Dementia grief is grieving in the present tense for years. The appointments stack up until life feels like a waiting room with snacks. I keep trying to memorize the voice before it changes again. Every small decline feels like an event nobody else heard. There are moments they look right at me and I can feel the person I know flicker and go dim. I am grieving someone who is still here and somehow that makes me lonelier. People tell me to treasure the time left like I am not already wringing it out with both hands. Slow loss has a way of making you feel disloyal for noticing reality.
The Wall
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