The loss of memory, a sense of self and knowledge of family is devastating. Similarly is it devastating to watch a loved one slowly succumb, knowing that nothing can be done. To see them confused, trying desperately to remember details, names and faces that once were ingrained, seemingly impossible to forget. For all of the anguish you feel for them, their experience is all the worse, you can't even understand. It's heartbreaking, but you give them a hug and talk all the same. I almost think it's worse in the middle, because the realization is there, that something is not right, that there is something missing. They know what is happening, but they know that there is nothing to be done. Everyone knows, but everyone is powerless, except to be a shoulder, to be a hug, to comfort. To comfort once, twice and many many more times. But that is what is family is for.
We went to clean the house today. Sometimes it seems we will be cleaning that place for years. I don't know how to end this post so I think I'll just leave it at that.
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