Editor’s note: We depart today, for the first time in more than 400 essays, from publishing essays with exactly 180 words. You’ll understand after reading this beautifully tender reflection. It was prompted by the death Friday of the author’s wife, Christine, in Sun City, Arizona. May it help us help those who must help loved ones with dementia.
Dementia.
It’s like saying Kleenex. Everyone knows what you mean, but so many types.
Dementia begins slowly.
Lost words, minor confusion.
Then it’s a softer and softer voice.
What did you say? I missed that.
Friends don’t call anymore. You’re not invited to the parties.
Slowly, but there, more and more distancing.
Soon, you’re alone, but for the one or two people who understand.
Time and progression.
Balance issues.
Slower and slower walking.
Words, not sentences. Conversation, a thing in memories.
Sleeping more and more.
Loneliness.
Boredom.
Problems eating, drinking and swallowing.
Trouble standing, dressing.
Can’t make a decision.
Makes you wonder how the person with the dementia feels and their perception of the world. Could it be the same as the caregiver?
Reflections, tender and thoughtful
‘Your one wild and precious life’
Beautiful.