When your mum has dementia and is no longer the mum you know, there is obviously a huge amount of grief. A living mourning loss for what was and will never be again. I find one of the feelings I struggle with is guilt for feeling anything other than empathy and patience. Because it’s hard not to feel frustrated or to zone out of the situation when it’s hurting too much, and the anger that this is happening to my mum, to my dad, to my siblings. It’s hard, despite best intentions not to feel jealous of people who still have mothers or have grandmother’s for their children. One of things that has changed in many ways this visit is a general acceptance of this being the way things are. If I can hold my mum’s hand and take a walk in the sun then that moment in itself is something to be cherished. If she can chat to my children in the way she is able and they can respond in the way they can then those moments are still moments of love regardless. I’m trying hard to let go of the sadness
