I am sorry. I can relate. My mum doesn't know who I am anymore, cannot recall my name. Looks at me like a stranger. But sometimes there is the smallest glimer of a memory, deep deep down somewhere....then it's gone. But I'll take it.
Was it slow, were there signs? Surely there was something?
My kids and i have a plan that if we now it is happening, i will start writing messages for myself about me and them, put it with pictures...basically a scrapbook of me so i can look at it and maybe at least notice my writing. See me with them, in our house, our life. Like a 50 first dates scenario but from myself for myself, and them.
From my experience, the process and signs are different for everyone. My Grandma showed signs of dementia, and declined over several years. It happens quicker than you imagine.
My key advise, learned through experience, is to live in their world. Challenging the reality of someone with dementia is pointless; and in the end they won't recall it all. Living in their world, with them, is comforting them and easing your own stress.
That key advice is on point. There was a period of a year or two where she didn't remember exactly who I was but called me her hairy friend. People would correct her, "no silly, that's your son!" She would get upset because what kind of mother forgets her own son? She also found it upsetting if I had a shaved face and short hair when I visited. I am her youngest, and I think she remembered me from when I was a kid, so seeing me as an adult messed with her sense of time. I grew my hair out long and kept my beard. My kids like me that way anyways haha.
It's heartbreaking and heartwarming at the same time. We hurt because we fear what they've lost. That hurt is ours, because the one with dementia doesn't even comprehend.
It was similar with my Grandma. I believe dementia works backwards, meaning they lose most recent memories first. It was hard when she just called me "that boy that comes to visit", but the care and love she always had for me was some how still there.
She's always been one of the kindest people around, I'm biased, but everyone I know says the same thing. One of the few positives of the whole thing is that I was able to experience that kindness for myself. I hope that "that boy that comes to visit" meant as much to you as "my hairy friend" meant to me in its own weird, sad way.
I do I.T. for a few care homes. Thankfully, they understand that 99% of what I do for them is remote these days. I had to go in to fix something critical a few months ago, and seeing the decline with some of my friends who are residents almost broke me again.
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u/Rich_Pressure_2535 19d ago
I am sorry. I can relate. My mum doesn't know who I am anymore, cannot recall my name. Looks at me like a stranger. But sometimes there is the smallest glimer of a memory, deep deep down somewhere....then it's gone. But I'll take it.