I think we all have things which are sentimental to all of us.
Acceptance is hard.
Because you are different from my memory – which contains the little, though wholesome, fragments of what you are and who you once were.
Because I am piecing together the extremes of this reality and your past paradise.
Because you are changing from the you I used to know.
Because I’m still finding new ways to love you every single day.
I love the way you smile everytime you find something to snack on, regardless of whether it’s good for you.
I love the way you hobble with that courage for life, soldiering on — even though you complain so much.
I love the way you cuddle us with such delight, as you embrace new-found ways of showing affection.
And I do so, even with the knowledge of the sombre reality that, one day, you’ll leave us.
Someday. We’ll all live by the light of your presence.
Thank you, thank you so much for this journey.
Your loving grandson.
Thoughts by the author:
I wrote this story not only because this is for someone I love. This is for people who care, who think that they are all alone — sad, lonely and depressed — seeing their loved ones face the onslaught of dementia. Their grit is what should inspire you not to give up loving the people you love.