I’m going to tell you about my nan, you already know her as you’ve cruelly stolen all of her memories from her.
I’m going to take you through every memory I have of her, you are going to have to read them & see how much hurt you’ve left behind.
I lived at my Nan’s house when I was a small baby until a place was found for my parents, I don’t remember much of this but I have video of her & me. I’m scared to show her this incase it confuses her because you cruelly stole any memory she has along with her reasoning & understanding.
My Nan’s naughty habits were the reason behind me having my front teeth pulled out by the dentist because she put sugar on my dummy, I can laugh about it now. Cheeky minx.
My Nan wasn’t an Angel, she could be a bit nasty & sneaky but I think that was due to her past & it doesn’t matter now. I have a vivid memory of pooing myself on the bus with her & not wanting to tell her. I stood the whole bus journey home & got myself to the toilet, Oh my gosh how embarrassing that I am openly admitting this.
This is one of my only memories of being alone with her, what a pants one hey!
I don’t have many memories of my Nan from there until I was about 13. This is when I finally went back to see her after years of staying away, you’ll know this though.
My Nan was always so busy & sociable, she was always in the town, working in the charity shop & talking to people who she’d probably never met before!
You took away her social skills, you took away her independence, You haven’t however managed to take away her nosey/ gossipy side.
You’ll never be able to steal that from her, this is me laughing in your face Dementia. I know till her last breath she will bitch & moan about one person or another.
Take her speech, take her mobility BUT you will never ever take away her nosey nature.
I will always remember Dad constantly asking Nan to sit down because she would shoot up to her front window any time she ever saw anyone go by. She has ALWAYS been the most nosey person in the world, she’d always tell us what was going on. I swear she could hear footfall from a mile away.
One of my favourite memories that literally makes me cry with laughter is Nan & Dad having an argument over her Elvis clock. Nan was convinced that the plastic mass produced clock was worth lots of money & said she was going to take it on the Antiques Road Show. My dad got more & more wound up the more she went on about it. She clocked on to that & kept going on about it for AGES. Giggling away as she went.
Don’t worry Dementia, whether she can talk or not, we will still have a laugh. You can’t possibly take that from us, not in a million years.
I remember always going to see her on a Friday & her being out so having to hunt around Hitchin town centre for her, we’d eventually find her, usually with a bag of booty from the charity shop. She always used to hunt out little bits & pieces, my dad used to tell her it was all crap but she genuinely loved it. She was like a crow, She would always find brilliant bits amongst the tripe. Pretty sure she also does the same in her care home!
You can’t take her memories away from us, we are here to remind her of what you’ve cruelly ripped from her brain.
You won’t be able to take away the laughs with had with her or equally the fights we’ve had.
You may be able to confuse her & make her think all of her sons are my dad, or that I’m my dads wife but I don’t care. She knows in there that we care for her. You may try & rip it away but we won’t let you.
Her sons visit her daily, they make sure there are reminders of them everywhere, from Jelly Babies to pictures.
We feed her, we show her the care she deserves.
Whether my nan thinks I’m her grand daughter, Niece, Mother or Daughter-in-law I DON’T CARE.
Dementia, SOMEWHERE in there she knows.
For that reason Dementia, you have failed.
You can try your best to take my Nan from me but you won’t succeed.
Tire yourself out, she’s ours, NOT YOURS.
She may not be there when I get married but I grant you with every ounce of my being, that woman will know whats going on & be watching.
She won’t see B in his school plays but she’ll know.
These are my final word Dementia,
She is ours.