about writing and life and God

What month is it? Dementia Diary

on March 7, 2013


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He thought the snowdrops I pointed out were very late. Till I realised he thought it was April.

It doesn’t matter. April – March. So what?

With dementia, you get into a regular “so-what?” system. You realise that basically very little of what you used to think mattered really matters. I reckon people who have had children learn this early on too. So your toddler insists on wearing his Batman jimjams to the supermarket. So what?

But I don’t want to grow a shellac-hard carapace of protection against the disapproving or mocking looks from those on the outside, those who have no experience of this disease. I want to keep my soft heart – but I am afraid of more pain. And more pain is the name of the game with dementia. For the relatives, not the patient. They appear oblivious and carefree.

Today the restaurant we’d planned to lunch in was in process of redecoration and the kitchen was not cooking so after a moment’s panic, I steered us towards a pub that serves food where we had an excellent meal and added another place to our repertoire. The serendipity factor at work again – or God’s providence. But I come home stressed, he goes back to the residential home cheerful and relaxed, planning a post-prandial nap.

Pre-lunch, I’d shown him the various house sale documents and forms and he’d understood what was going on, seemed happy to be consulted and signed on the dotted line alongside my signature where indicated. Each signature a little different, and a lot shakier than his old, bold, confident flourish. He’s sort of there, but not who he was. It’s very strange and uncomfortable. But then there’s a glimmer of someone recognisable for a moment, then it’s gone. These glimmers are rarer now in March than they were in November even.

And what will April bring?






2 responses to “What month is it? Dementia Diary

  1. Dear Dorothy I can only imagine your pain as your glimpse the man your husband once was. I pray that God will give you enough grace for each day. I’m sure he holds you in his hands as you go on this difficult journey.
    Lynn x

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