Dementia Grief

 
2 years to this day since I got a crushing hug from my crying mother.
I woke up to find out that dementia had taken you from us.
3 days after my birthday.

A week before my birthday I had gone to see you for what I thought would be the last time.
And I was correct.
What I wasn't expecting was a blank expression upon your face as you failed to recognise my existence in your life.

"It's a beautiful day isn't it?" You kept saying as you looked out of the window from the chair you were slumped in.
I just smiled and nodded my head in agreement. Not knowing what to say or do.

Before me and my mother left, you had sadness written all over you.
I remember you saying "You'll come back, won't you."
And then you'd say, "It's a beautiful day today. It's a beautiful day, isn't it?"

That was the day I forced back tears, kept my composure, and failed to hug you before I left.

The next time I saw you was the day I didn't quite recognise you.
A wooden box covered in colourful flowers.
I kept my composure.

Or at least I almost kept my composure until I heard the final song play.
"Let's say goodbye with a smile, dear. Just for a while, dear, we must part."
Memories flooded my mind and I felt broken.

That was the day I forced back tears, barely kept my composure, and failed to say goodbye.