Dementia grief is grieving in the present tense for years. There are moments they look right at me and I can feel the person I know flicker and go dim. The appointments stack up until life feels like a waiting room with snacks. People tell me to treasure the time left like I am not already wringing it out with both hands. I am grieving someone who is still here and somehow that makes me lonelier. Every small decline feels like an event nobody else heard. I am already tired from the grief that has not officially happened yet.
For the mother I miss while she is alive