COMMENT: The unique grief of dementia
WATCHING someone you love deteriorate under the power of dementia is a unique kind of grief.
The face in front of you looks like the person you know so well but often it has been months, or even years, since you have really seen them.
You hold their hands - as you have countless times before - unsure if they even know you are there.
Although those suffering from dementia are physically around, there is little, sometimes nothing, that is reminiscent of the person they once were.
You can't have a conversation about your day, share a joke or hear them recount memories you have built together.
Although your loved one is still alive, you are forced to grieve their loss because you know that person will never return.
But despite these painful effects, your love continues.
One of the most endearing displays I have ever seen is from a man whose love for his wife endured more than 10 years of dementia.
Although his wife was not the same person he married, his love never waned.
He travelled to her nursing home twice a day to brush her hair, feed her, massage her legs and remind her of the good times they had shared, especially their time on the dancefloor.
Although she couldn't acknowledge him, I hope deep down she felt his presence and it was a comfort to her.
Kerri Moore
Print Editor
