I spent time last week with some people whose lives have felt the full impact of dementia. My conversation with one lady in particular stays with me. She lost her husband to dementia two years ago. It was, she said, a relief in some ways. He had spent his last months in a care home and she had visited him every other day, experiencing, at first, guilt and then that awful sense that the man with whom she had spent so much of her adult life no longer recognised her.
Two years on, there appears to be a new pain in her life. Once very outgoing and busy, she now struggles for any kind of motivation. She can’t seem to interest herself in pastimes which were once so much a part of her daily life. Her family is worried about her, she says, and she wishes she could “snap out of it.” We looked at each other. No words were needed.
Dementia’s icy grasp doesn’t necessarily loosen when a loved one dies. Watching a loved one slip out of reach while still alive is painful beyond words. What is crueller still is the pain which, for many, continues beyond death.