I am, sadly, in your same boat of knowing more than I ever wanted to know about dementia. I absolutely agree that putting these stories out there is essential, and I really appreciate your doing it. Your poem made me cry, because I feel like you were writing my family's story, too.
Thanks so much for speaking up about what your family is going through. I've had that same experience of being brought to tears by somebody else's story, even though it's very much like what I'm struggling through myself. I think sometimes we're so much in the trenches with our own situation, just absolutely up to our eyeballs in all the things that are hard about what we're doing, that we just kind of lock in and put one foot in front of the other. It's when you see somebody else's pain that you get this jolt of empathy and recognition that brings it all to the surface. Wishing you and your family comfort. 💙
I lost my father to the very slow decline that is dementia two years ago. What an awful disease. Please know I am wrapping you in my arms (mentally) and sending so much love to you AND your mother. May you both find peaceful moments in your every day.
I'm so sorry about your father. Thank you so much for reading and sharing. I am so struck by the connections I make with other people who are going through or have gone through something similar. It's a terrible club to belong to, but I really cherish the interactions I have - in the locker room, at work, here - with people who know what it's like to care for someone with dementia. I'm kind of an introvert, so I don't usually find myself chatting about personal things with relative strangers. But somehow the shared experience really breaks down those barriers of reticence. I'm really grateful to have people in my life who understand what it's like. You included. 💙
Tara I am so sorry. We have a close family member with vascular dementia. It is a devastating disease. I hope writing this poem gave you an outlet, I'm absolutely sure that sharing it will have helped others x
Oh Tara, this was so beautiful and painful to read. I’m one of those I don’t know the difference but your words have clued me in. Thank you for showing up, and sharing this with us .
Hey Marc, thank you, really. For being here and reading and reaching out. From somebody who is so brave about putting his struggles into words, your response here means a lot. I wish nobody had to know a thing about dementia. But so many are struggling with the disease and providing care for loved ones who are struggling with it. Yet it's easy to feel alone and invisible. I hope I've provided context for the happily uninitiated, and a sense of being seen to those in the trenches. Thanks again for being such a positive spirit here.
I had never read it. But I have now. Thank you so much for the recommendation. That’s a gorgeous poem.
“I say, little auntie you are a plump armchair
in flight, a kitchen table on a difficult hike without boots”
The speaker has a sweetness and contentment with her aunt’s circumstances that I’m not sure I could ever conjure, but it’s inspiring to read, nevertheless. Thanks so much for sharing it with me. And thanks for reading.
I know it’s such a devastating poem, the narrators gentleness absolutely destroys. I wrote about it a bit on my own substack. Glad it resonated with you
Thanks for reading, Chris. Glad to see you here. I used to get emails from you for ages, but somehow lost track of them along the way. I hope you enjoy the community here. Looking forward to catching up on your writing. I'm finding it to be a really supportive, smart, thoughtful bunch of people. Welcome!
Beautiful expression of your love for your mom. I loved the details of the Wyeth painting, the red chair, and “you’re where you’re meant to be”. I haven’t experienced a loved one with dementia, but you drew me into this moment and helped me gain perspective on how this disease impacts people and families. Thank you for sharing Tara. She is blessed to have you as her daughter.
Thank you for sharing this personal story. That poem you wrote brought me right into that conversation. While my dad didn't have dementia but another disease, the drastic changes in him that I witnessed in a few short years was very unsettling for me and my family.
I'm so sorry you had to go through such a wrenching experience with your father. It's hard to be a witness, to not be able to DO anything to change the course of what's happening. Getting our parents to the ends of their lives is such hard, emotional work. Like parenting, but for me at least, without the joy and feelings of accomplishment. Like a dear friend of mind says, there's no easy roll-on application. Thanks so much for reading.
Tara, my heart goes out to you. What a gift you have. You tell your story, and your mother’s, in a voice that is both unsparing and unsentimental, and thus incredibly powerful. How hard to let go. But starting with the Little Free Libraries was the most healing act for me. All my love to you and your family.
Thanks, Mary. I know you've been through a lot and sometimes it's hard to spend time with other people's grief when you're living with your own. It's very generous of you read and respond with so much warmth and I really appreciate it.
Yes, there are, a few, she says. On mine, too, I tell her
Okay then, next is your bed. Are the cats still sleeping there?
Yes, they are, she says. Well, it sounds like you’re home, doesn’t it?"
Very moving Tara. How I can connect. It's strange when I call my father these days, I always feel like I'm bothering him as well. That I'm making it worse, either he cries or he gives the phone away after a couple of sentences. x
I am, sadly, in your same boat of knowing more than I ever wanted to know about dementia. I absolutely agree that putting these stories out there is essential, and I really appreciate your doing it. Your poem made me cry, because I feel like you were writing my family's story, too.
Thanks so much for speaking up about what your family is going through. I've had that same experience of being brought to tears by somebody else's story, even though it's very much like what I'm struggling through myself. I think sometimes we're so much in the trenches with our own situation, just absolutely up to our eyeballs in all the things that are hard about what we're doing, that we just kind of lock in and put one foot in front of the other. It's when you see somebody else's pain that you get this jolt of empathy and recognition that brings it all to the surface. Wishing you and your family comfort. 💙
I lost my father to the very slow decline that is dementia two years ago. What an awful disease. Please know I am wrapping you in my arms (mentally) and sending so much love to you AND your mother. May you both find peaceful moments in your every day.
I'm so sorry about your father. Thank you so much for reading and sharing. I am so struck by the connections I make with other people who are going through or have gone through something similar. It's a terrible club to belong to, but I really cherish the interactions I have - in the locker room, at work, here - with people who know what it's like to care for someone with dementia. I'm kind of an introvert, so I don't usually find myself chatting about personal things with relative strangers. But somehow the shared experience really breaks down those barriers of reticence. I'm really grateful to have people in my life who understand what it's like. You included. 💙
Tara I am so sorry. We have a close family member with vascular dementia. It is a devastating disease. I hope writing this poem gave you an outlet, I'm absolutely sure that sharing it will have helped others x
Thanks, Nelly. I'm sorry you're going through this, too. I really appreciate you reading and reaching out. 💙
Oh Tara, this was so beautiful and painful to read. I’m one of those I don’t know the difference but your words have clued me in. Thank you for showing up, and sharing this with us .
Hey Marc, thank you, really. For being here and reading and reaching out. From somebody who is so brave about putting his struggles into words, your response here means a lot. I wish nobody had to know a thing about dementia. But so many are struggling with the disease and providing care for loved ones who are struggling with it. Yet it's easy to feel alone and invisible. I hope I've provided context for the happily uninitiated, and a sense of being seen to those in the trenches. Thanks again for being such a positive spirit here.
Have you read Jo Shapcott’s ‘Somewhat Unravelled’?
I had never read it. But I have now. Thank you so much for the recommendation. That’s a gorgeous poem.
“I say, little auntie you are a plump armchair
in flight, a kitchen table on a difficult hike without boots”
The speaker has a sweetness and contentment with her aunt’s circumstances that I’m not sure I could ever conjure, but it’s inspiring to read, nevertheless. Thanks so much for sharing it with me. And thanks for reading.
I know it’s such a devastating poem, the narrators gentleness absolutely destroys. I wrote about it a bit on my own substack. Glad it resonated with you
This is so beautiful. Just wanted to say thank you for sharing. ❤️
Thanks for reading, Chris. Glad to see you here. I used to get emails from you for ages, but somehow lost track of them along the way. I hope you enjoy the community here. Looking forward to catching up on your writing. I'm finding it to be a really supportive, smart, thoughtful bunch of people. Welcome!
Beautiful expression of your love for your mom. I loved the details of the Wyeth painting, the red chair, and “you’re where you’re meant to be”. I haven’t experienced a loved one with dementia, but you drew me into this moment and helped me gain perspective on how this disease impacts people and families. Thank you for sharing Tara. She is blessed to have you as her daughter.
Kelly! Welcome! Thanks so much for being here, and for reading and responding. I really, really appreciate the feedback. 💙
Thank you for sharing this personal story. That poem you wrote brought me right into that conversation. While my dad didn't have dementia but another disease, the drastic changes in him that I witnessed in a few short years was very unsettling for me and my family.
I'm so sorry you had to go through such a wrenching experience with your father. It's hard to be a witness, to not be able to DO anything to change the course of what's happening. Getting our parents to the ends of their lives is such hard, emotional work. Like parenting, but for me at least, without the joy and feelings of accomplishment. Like a dear friend of mind says, there's no easy roll-on application. Thanks so much for reading.
Tara, my heart goes out to you. What a gift you have. You tell your story, and your mother’s, in a voice that is both unsparing and unsentimental, and thus incredibly powerful. How hard to let go. But starting with the Little Free Libraries was the most healing act for me. All my love to you and your family.
Thanks, Mary. I know you've been through a lot and sometimes it's hard to spend time with other people's grief when you're living with your own. It's very generous of you read and respond with so much warmth and I really appreciate it.
"Are there still blossoms on the cactus, Mom?
Yes, there are, a few, she says. On mine, too, I tell her
Okay then, next is your bed. Are the cats still sleeping there?
Yes, they are, she says. Well, it sounds like you’re home, doesn’t it?"
Very moving Tara. How I can connect. It's strange when I call my father these days, I always feel like I'm bothering him as well. That I'm making it worse, either he cries or he gives the phone away after a couple of sentences. x
Thanks for reading, Remy. Wishing comfort for both you and your father.