You have lots of time to think, on visits.

Seeing her lying there restless, constantly fidgeting and agitated.
In mind and in body.

One wonders at the marvels of the mind.
How it can withstand and fight a multitude.
Ravished though it may be by a condition that has no scruples.

A condition that knows no bounds, as it forages its way through synapses and neural pathways. Devouring everything in it's wake.

Slowly as it goes though; bit by bit, nibble by nibble...

It eats away at your thoughts and words; at all your memories and connections.
Muddles familial relationships.
Then combines what's left into a neural hotchpotch of confusion and upset.

Slowly as it goes....

You don't know when it started really, only that suddenly it's presence is absolute.
It's a condition that changes the person; their words and personality.


And sometimes you get to wade through the ramblings and complaints.
To see what's real and what's imagined.

You listen too to the meanderings on people long since departed this earth.
As you keep yourself grounded with wool or phone.
And hopefully nod appropriately, in all the right places. 

And sometimes you marvel at the astuteness, that can shine through the murky mire 
of the Dementia fog.

Sometimes a tiny glimpse of the original person is revealed.
Who can even show some remorse, when teasingly chastised for their language choices.


Sometimes your threat to start a swear box and to get-rich-quick from its sure to-fill-quickly contents, is met with a hearty laugh. 

And sometimes you laugh heartily at their uncharacteristic language choices and rude remarks.

Laughter is better than tears after all.

Sometimes it's a guilty laughter.

And sometimes you just feel guilty.

Dementia is cruel.

It's nasty and clever as it  weaves its way through your brain.

And sometimes, it's in your genes.




  1. Dementia is cruel. It's dishonest somehow - like a trick.

  2. @Midlife Singlemum: Yes, a trick of the mind. That must be how the person themselves feel? Like someone is playing tricks on their mind?

    Thanks for your insight....

    xx Jazzy

  3. Both my mother in law and my father in law have dementia. It is the cruelest of cruel things to happen to a person. Great piece~

  4. @Shelly: It truly is. Heartbreaking to watch. Must be very difficult for your husband. We went through something similar with my dad too, he died very young from Alzheimer's at 64.

    Thanks for your kind comment.

    And thanks for the lovely comments on facebook too :-)

    xx Jazzy

  5. This hits me hard. My mother has it, not so badly so far, but this is her future. And maybe mine, who knows.

  6. I am so is so hard. You sit and look at the present situation and mourn for the past. It is as if you don't know where you stand role reversal. i agree-laughter is an easier way..a kinder way to let some of the sorrow escape (not sure if that makes sense) Sending you the best possible thoughts..(((())))

  7. @Maud: I know, it's hard. It starts so slowly at first but please take heart. Our situation is worsened by multiple strokes and another factor. Which is why we all really marvel at her. She's an absolute miracle, so she is....

    @Kathleen: Yes, it makes perfect sense! You have to laugh, really, you do! I KNOW my mother would never really tell me to 'F**k off home'...not the 'real' her. So I laugh it off and go home and have a glass of wine. Or two..

    Thank you both for your kind comments.

    I was unsure whether or not to write this, I had various ideas of how to let this out as I've been keeping it in for a very long time. So, really I wrote it as a release, for me. The fact that people here and on facebook are reading and appreciate it is heart warming.

    Thank you.

    xx Jazzy

  8. So very poignant, and I will never forget my mother going through it. I wouldn't wish dementia on anyone or their family xx

  9. @Looking for Blue Sky: I don't think I'll forget this either and I definitely wouldn't wish it on anyone.

    Thanks for your lovely comment.

    xx Jazzy

  10. Oh, Jazzy, I was so sad to read this. What you have written is amazing, so descriptive and eloquent and you give the reader a real feeling of what you are going through. Sending you a cyber hug. x

  11. Oh Jazzy. No words, just a big hug xx

  12. You have really captured a delicate subject beautifully and honestly, I read through, nodding my head in understanding, as we have been touched by this horrible disease too. My father in law was diagnosed a number of years ago with dementia and Alzheimer's. I think it was a double insult as a medical man he knew exactly what was ahead of him and how he would change.... and he did. He has passed through many phases now and sits quietly, unspeaking, no reactions, his body shrinking now. We wonder what he is thinking, if anything at all. To be honest we hope he thinks and feels little, to numb him in his final stages. The worst thing about this disease is how the body can remain strong while the brain shuts down, drawing the whole thing out.

    Thank you for sharing so beautifully and putting words on what so many feel!

  13. @Bright Side of Life: Thanks, for your comment and your appreciation. And for the cyber hug too!

    @Bavarian Sojourn: Thank you, exactly what's needed :-)

    @Naomi Lavelle: How awful for your father in law and for your whole family. It really does affect patients differently. As I said above my dad had Alzheimers, and that robbed him of all of his words and recognition of his loved ones. Like you we hoped that he thought and felt little towards the end. It was truly horrible at the end as we had to face the decision whether or not to 'force feed' via The Peg. I really feel for you.

    On the other hand my mother's Dementia has merely changed her words and personality, sometimes, and I think that one of her co-morbid conditions means that she talks/rambles constantly! Usually rubbish, bad words and sometimes very appropriate observations/thoughts.

    Putting the emotion aside for a minute it really is a fascinating subject, albeit a truly horrendous one. Especially my mother, after all she's been through she STILL remembers us. Sometimes...

    Thank you all so much for these comments and some more that I received on facebook.

    I am SO not alone in this...

    xx Jazzy

  14. So sad :( such a nasty disease, condition, whatever you will call it. Unfortunately dementia is all I can really remember of my Nanna now. It must have killed my father to see her that way.

    Lots and lots of hugs. Beadzoid xxx

  15. @Christina Emmett: Thanks Beadzoid. It's amazing the amount of people who have experienced a loved-one going through this.
    I hope my boy doesn't have to go through it.

    Thanks so much for your comment :-)

    xx Jazzy

  16. Beautiful words with very sad subject matter. Dementia is incredibly cruel, like your life being robbed from you while you are still alive, disappearing in front of all those who love you. Bewildering and frightening... X

  17. @Older Mum: Thank you. And your description is very, very apt.

    Thanks for your kind comment, much appreciated :-)

    xx Jazzy

  18. Gosh, my mil has this too, much worsened by a recent operation. It IS so cruel, and so unfair. My mil is v young (60s) and had planned on spending these years travelling and enjoying life. I'm so sad for her, but more so her children and husband who have to live with this and see it happen :(

  19. @Emily: That is so tough Emily. My mam has been affected by this (also worsened by an operation) since her 60s too. My dad had Alzheimers, probably from his last 50s. The hardest part is feeling that their lives have been taken from them, especially my mam as she's still with us. She, and your mil, are young enough to still have an active life. The closer you get to their age, and I'm not a million miles away, the more you realise that. It so so sad and so cruel.
    Thanks for commenting and I wish you luck with your mil. xx


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