I lost mum dear mum last month to alzheimers, so it is all very raw. I am lucky in some ways that she never forgot who I was.
Its so cruel how it changes a person's personality. At one time she would never swear to swearing every other word. The things she believed she had done when she hadn't. The stories she told were so believable but hadn't happened.
She lived with us for a few years till we could no longer cope with the changes., and had to go into care. I was just glad I was with her in the end and she is at peace now.

I lost my lovely dad to this awful disease in 2018 and to this day the pain of not having him here still hurts as if it was day 1. My Dad developed Vascular Dementia and Alzheimer's and to watch his struggles daily just eating, walking, the hallucinations he had and to see the scared expressions on his face not knowing what was going on in his own head was so hard to watch. I had to watch my Mum slowly lose her husband day by day, such a cruel disease.

16 years ago I lost my mother to Alzheimers, and then 30months ago my wife Jean was diagnosed.
It’s the most horrible disease because in more lucid moments my wife will ask the heart breaking question,”what’s wrong with me “.

I met him just three months ago, but his name was known to everyone on the ward.

At 92, he had lived a full life before dementia began quietly dismantling it.
When I resumed taking care of him, the words had already gone, the hearing faded, and then swallowing became a struggle, each mealtime a gentle, patient battle just to give him nourishment and dignity in the same moment.

What remained was his presence and mine, so I learned to communicate without words. A warm touch before any procedure, eye contact held a little longer, and used the tone of a voice that said, "I see you, you are safe and you matter."

Dementia had taken so much from him, but not his humanity, and so I refused to let the busyness of care take mine.

One morning, while I was giving him his bath, the quiet, careful routine we had built together, with the warm water, and unhurried movements. The dignity of being washed by hands that respected him, he took his last breath in that moment. It was peaceful, warm but not alone, and I have thought about him many times since.

About what it means to be present at the end of someone's life. About the weight and the privilege of that

Even though he never said goodbye, but in that final moment, I believe he felt everything a person deserves to feel at the end of their life.
Seen, cared for and remembered. That is why I do this work.

My darling Sally and I were approaching retirement and making plans for travel and visiting our children, family and friends. Then Sally started forgetting how to do things, forgetting names, forgetting where she lived. After scans and consultations we were told Sally has Alzheimers. Just five years have passed. Sally can do nothing for herself. She cannot see properly, cannot speak properly, does not know anyone. All we can do is make Sally's life as happy for her in her own world as we possibly can. We are heartbroken.

I was a psycho-geriatric nurse. My mother developed vascular dementia and entered a nursing home when my dad, her main carer died. Lost her in 2012.
Now both my husband and my sister's husband are in the early stages of vascular dementia ( mine) and Alzheimers ( sister's.
It was my husband who wanted to make a donation and be proud to wear his forget- me- not badge.