There is a thief among us. This thief doesn't steal possessions or money, but instead steals memories and thoughts, leaving behind nothing but a shell of what used to be our loved ones.
This thief is dementia.
Did you know that there are over 100 types of dementia? Some of the more common types are Alzheimers, Vascular, Lewy Body, and Frontotemperal. In fact, in 2015 alone there were over five million patients and new patients develop the disease every sixty-seven seconds.
Why am I telling you this? Because I am affected by this on a daily basis (or whenever I subject myself to a visit with my Grammy).
It's so hard and so sad. There are lots of things I want to talk to her about. Some days are better than others. Some days she will ask me the same thing no less than 15 times in 30 minutes. Some days we can laugh with her about things she says, but some days it's just sad. Her body is still here but her mind is fading away.
And now it's story time:
When I was a little girl I was shopping with my Grammy and threw a fit for a dark skinned doll. Of course she bought it for me. I loved that doll and named it Cecil (nobody knows where the name came from). I still have the doll in storage somewhere.
Yesterday my mom took Grammy and my niece, Ellie Kate to shop at Wal-Mart. Grammy told Ellie that she would buy her something so they were looking down the toy aisle and that's when Grammy spotted this little dark skinned baby doll. She told my mom that she was buying it for me. I think my mom said something like, "Mama, she's forty something years old" to which she replied, "I don't care, those are good memories and I'm buying it for her". While this doll isn't nearly as dark as Cecil, it is the same size, just softer (they didn't have these soft ones in the late 70's/early 80's). Whatever it was about it, it jogged her memory a bit and she was determined to buy it! She brought it down to me yesterday afternoon. Mom had already given me a heads up, so I carried on with her about the memories I had of Cecil, the OG.
I know she will only get worse, and that's probably one of the worst things about this disease. I can't imagine how scary it must be for her to be lost somewhere in her own mind. I miss her desperately.
I have to remind myself of this:
Much Love,
Beth
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