At the other end of life, people with dementia also change each week. But instead of adding skills, they lose them. They go backward in their development.
Each new loss is a grief. A fresh reason to be sad. The losses will never be regained. The long cruel disease of dementia robs the sufferer of what they used to do effortlessly. It steals from them who they used to be.
Don’t get me wrong. People with dementia are still themselves. They never lose that. My mom is still Patti. She’s still in there, but every week, it’s harder to find her there. Something else is lost.
Another ability is gone. Knowing the difference between day and night. Finding their way home. Making sense of numbers, money, calendar pages, clocks. Driving. Going places by themselves. Going out at all—stores, restaurants, church. Remembering names. Dialing the phone. Chatting with friends. Finding the right word. Making a complete sentence. Eating food that’s not cut up first. Going to the bathroom or taking a shower unassisted. Holding a spoon by themselves.
Dementia is so much more than memory loss. That’s the tip of the iceberg, what outsiders see. Caregivers and loved ones who are close to the person see all the hidden gunk that lurks under the surface.
One thing I’ve learned from watching two parents suffer with this terrible disease is that even when they can’t recall my name, they know I’m someone close to them. Sometimes my mother thinks that I’m her mother or her sister. Usually, thankfully, she knows who I am. But even when she forgets my name, she always recognizes love. She recognizes someone who is safe and truly cares for her. So did my dad. 
The most painful stages to watch are the ones where the person with dementia realizes something is wrong and they are powerless to change it. Where they recognize that they can’t do what they used to do. They become confused, anxious, depressed, agitated, paranoid. They lose weight, often without eating less. They have extreme emotional swings, sometimes swinging from one emotion to another in a space of five minutes. They may have hallucinations or delusions. They cry, a lot. Inconsolably.
If the disease hasn’t taken their life yet, then in the final stage, even speaking at all is lost. Recognizing any faces. They are completely bed-ridden by the end. This is what we have to look forward to with Mom. I pray the Lord, in his mercy, will not let my mom go that far.
Probably my last gift from my mom. She painted this birdhouse during the craft time a couple months ago.
Every week, babies change. They grow. They develop. It’s exciting. Parents, grandparents, everyone marvels the first time the baby does anything. Smiles. Rolls over. Laughs. Recognizes their hand. Crawls. Stands. Each new word is reason to cheer. Each accomplishment, no matter how tiny, is met with enthusiasm. Videos are made and shared. Every week, if they are healthy, babies accumulate new skills in their repertoire.
Thank you for sharing the process, Taryn. Others I know with the same, “recognize love”. Thank you for your faithfulness to both of your parents. You inspire us all.
Thanks, Sue. I know you’ve been there, too, and you’ve been faithful.
May God in His mercy hear your prayers for your mom. And give you strength and endurance until then. What a hard sad season. And what a gift you are to your mom (and everyone else around you). Praying for comfort and joy and peace that truly passes all understanding.
Thank you, Loren. I need this and I appreciate you.
Taryn, my heart truly hurts for you. It’s a pain like no other to watch how cruel dementia/Alzheimer’s is to our loved one’s. It can be so subtle at first. Sometimes it can progress slowly, then quickly other times. It can be so different for each individual that is stricken with this disease.
As much as I miss my mom and grandmom, I know they are in a much better place.
Make the most of what time you have left with your mom. Cherish the memories, as I know you do.
Thoughts and prayers.
Brenda
Brenda, it means so much to have friends who understand, who’ve been there. I love your reminder to cherish the memories and the moments I do have. Thanks!
Taryn, I am praying for you and Steve through this hard time. Also for your mother. I understand the situation and pray for peace, patience, and God’s love.
Thanks, Valerie!
Yes. I too pray she will be spared a prolonged transition. Love and courage to you. Cindy.
Thanks, Cindy!