Such a great blog.
Both my grandfather (dad’s dad) and granny (mum’s mum) had dementia towards the end of their lives.
My granddad had It worse, it was onset by his night terrors (he was in World War 2 and saw some horrid things that I daren’t ask him about). He would wake up shouting for my nan and saying odd things in his sleep. Eventually we sent him to a lovely nursing home and he lived out his days there.
Most days, dad sleeps a lot. But today, he’s wide awake. He’s on the phone, yelling at me. He’s so angry, but there’s sadness in his voice, too. “I don’t have any money, I don’t have a car. I don’t even have any shoes,” he tells me. “And I’ve got to go down and see mom and dad.”
Now, my dad is 92 and his parents have been gone for decades. He has money in bank accounts that he doesn’t remember how to access, and he has a car he’s no longer able to drive. These days, his shoes mostly stay in the closet. He wears his slippers when he has the energy to walk down to the dining room to eat with his friends Leo and John, or when he gets the urge to bust out of the skilled nursing wing where he lives. He heads…
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