Once upon a time there was a lovely lady. In her early seventies her brain started miss-firing. She began repeating herself, she forgot how to start her car and took her dog’s medication instead of her own.
During her earlier life she had read widely, travelled extensively and was a very kind and caring person. She ate healthily, practiced yoga regularly for years, loved gardening and spent a lot of time visiting friends. She was married for 44 years and had two daughters and three grandchildren. Her symptoms of dementia became unmistakable a few years after her husband died and so began the slippery slope into confusion, agitation, desperation and fear. Despite her deterioration she worried that she was a nuisance. She longed for the security of family or friends and she knew that her constant mental fog was an anomaly that robbed her of getting back to some sense of normality.
Today she lives in the dementia wing of an aged care facility where she is well looked after. Her sense of humour remains a delightful beacon of her personality, as does her caring nature, her penchant for playing with words and her love of singing. And her unwavering love for her friends and her family.
This is my mum, Anne. As she looses words to narrate her life, we are filling in the gaps with photographs.