Although not an indicator of immediate death, FTLD carries a death sentence. Dementia originating in the frontal and temporal lobes changes everything. It robs family and friends of a loved one. Little by little, it steals a life.
death by a million paper cuts
My mom is sometimes painfully aware of what is happening to her, I think. I see it in her eyes when she sees me as I walk in the door to visit her. It is painful for me too. Her caregivers tell me that her day is going well until she falls to tears when I arrive. That hurts. I think seeing me is a reminder of who she was and of the future she planned to have. Maybe I'm wrong. It's possible that she can't know these things anymore. It's impossible to know for sure, since she can no longer communicate with me and often seems to forget that I am there.
Tomorrow, I will smile at my mom and hide from the sorrow, but I allow myself to succumb to the crushing sadness on this anniversary. She is worthy of this day of mourning, and that will never change.
I will remember to be grateful that we made time to be together and that my kids were and are given ample chances to see her. I'm glad we went to the bookstores, baked cookies, trick or treated, and took picnics when she still could. At the time, it was difficult to do and gave me a mess of unhappy emotions. Now I am so very glad that I took the pains to make as many memories as possible, like the one pictured above.
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