Earlier this year I lost my Nan after a seven year battle with Dementia. Her name was Olive and she was 96. She was a wonderful woman, mother and grandmother. For the first few years of her illness, she came to live with us (my family). The phases of Dementia are tough to endure and to be honest, I’m glad she’s out of it. Although her leaving us has caused great pain, we are so blessed to be left with such wonderful memories of her.
Dementia is a very difficult illness to deal with as a carer, friend, family member and of course, as a sufferer. The decline in a loved ones health through the decay of ones memory is simply devastating. At times, for her, and at times for us, the confusion, the anger and frustration that comes with this illness proved exhausting but the balance came where we were able to witness times and moments of sheer joy, the formation of lasting memories that were more than beautiful, moving and quite often, absolutely hilarious. Memories I hope to never have stolen from me.
I’ve published this post today to pay homage to my Nan on the morning that we finally lay her to rest.
I also thought I’d use this moment to introduce the topic of Dementia to #MentalMovement as it is one that has both touched and changed mine and my families life forever. There are 850,000 people with dementia in the UK, with numbers set to rise to over 1 million by 2025. This will soar to 2 million by 2051. Although Alzheimer’s disease and other types of Dementia can be delayed with early intervention and medical treatments, there is currently no cure.
I look forward to exploring this topic more through #MentalMovement but until then, I’d like to share with you a poem I wrote in an attempt to explore a few fragments of a journey through caring for my Nan throughout her illness.
Finally Home
The light had gone and dinner was served
three bags you packed as you sat and observed
the hundreds of people that passed you that day
as you dreamed of a time you’d make it home all the way.
We’d call you and say “Nan, your dinner is here!“,
but you’d sit and you’d wait, “No, I’m going home now my dear.“
Sometimes I would catch you gaze right into space,
And wondered if I too could get lost in that place,
A place you seemed happy, at peace, with no fear,
that moment you’d ask “Are we home now my dear?“
We knew that you worried your ‘rent‘ was soon due,
So I dressed up as a Russian to take payments from you.
Thankful you’d paid, though a little bemused,
you’d laugh at me hearty as you put on your shoes.
Now free of your stresses, your cuppa was here,
but that’s when you’d tell me “I’m off home now my dear.“
We wanted to keep you at home with us more,
but it soon became harder as your memory grew poor.
Now a new chapter would open for you,
as your life became different, and almost, brand new.
Day trips, games nights and discos were here,
but that didn’t stop you from saying “I want to go home now my dear.“
It broke us to hear when you’d sit down and say
“It’s my mind that’s not here, but my body is OK.“
Though your journey proved tough, as you, battled you,
it was your strength and your fight that always shone through.
The pain from your mothers voice caused a wound; like a shot,
to the point you’d repeat “I’m the worst of her lot“
If only you realised, and you only could see,
You were the best Olive that ever sat,
in our family tree.
For more information on Alzheimer’s or Dementia please visit The Alzheimer’s Society here.
