May 29, 2019

Lunch with Jane:

It’s becoming harder & harder for Jane to connect & stay present. I know the common belief is that dementia makes you forget your loved ones, but I don’t believe Jane has forgotten us. It’s more that she is losing the battle to the disease more frequently. I don’t know what she’s thinking – or even what she is aware of – so I can’t say with certainty. But the way I describe the disease is it’s like she is trapped inside & she can’t get out. She’s not able to communicate – in any way. She used to speak with her eyes, with a smile, with a pat or squeeze of the hand. But those interactions are now far & few between.

Jane was sitting at the kitchen table when I arrived today. She made eye contact with me as I sat down next to her, but I could tell she wasn’t really there. I fed her lunch & she simply chewed & swallowed. It’s like her body knows it needs nutrients, but it isn’t really aware of what it’s eating. Like she’s on auto pilot. She no longer seems to differentiate between spinach or dessert. It’s sad. I’m not sure a cupcake or homemade cookies bring her joy anymore. I don’t think my stepmom knows the feeling of flavors anymore.

We headed outside & sat under the trees after lunch. It felt nice in the shade & the birds were really active. The love birds even made an appearance today, but refused to sit still for a photo. However, they were happy to talk & sing along with the other birds. Jane was leaning to one side, but not her entire body like is common after she has an episode. It was more like her head only was tilting, almost like how babies head’s flop before their necks are strong enough to hold up their head unsupported. It didn’t seem to bother Jane – it just looked odd.

I talked with my stepmom about my life, but it seemed hard for her to stay engaged. She did give me a half smile when we first sat down & again when I read her the text from my dad, but that was the most engagement I received. Jane even fell asleep for a little bit.

I hate watching my stepmom slowly fade away. It’s like the disease of slowly taking more & more away of her, until we will only be left with a shell. This is no way to live. I wish she would stop fighting. I hope every day Jane is able to find peace & stops suffering. I hope for her to have a major stroke or heart attack. Something that takes her quickly so she no longer suffers. Everything that once was vibrant & made my stepmom who she is, feels like it has been robbed of her. It’s hard to see her this way. It’s hard to believe this person who sits before me is my stepmom. She feels that distant. Perhaps that is the real truth behind dementia. It kills its victims by taking away who they are, piece by piece, until the person sitting before you looks like your loved one, but nothing else.

I hate this disease.