If you have not read it already please make sure you read Sophies truly honest experience with her Grandma on the guest post she did for Dementia Action Week 2018, and you can read in the link below.
Some may have read my previous blog post about my Grandmother who had Dementia. A few days ago, I was told that she had died in the early hours of the morning after several days of unconsciousness and deteriorating health.
This is not a shock. In many ways it was expected and without sounding callous, it was also probably a mercy that she no longer has to be confused or stressed out by her surroundings or the strange people (her family) who kept showing up and expecting some sort of recognition.
Despite knowing this, it is still upsetting. She was my Grandma and I loved (love) her and while I have done much of my grieving over the last few years as she lost her mind, it is still hard to know that I will not see her again alive. It is harder still to realise that her death is just the start of an avalanche.
I have been unspeakably lucky in that I have had a full set of Grandparents for my entire life, and that I also have fond memories of my maternal Great Grandparents as a child. Now the first of that cohort has died, and so will the others in their due time. This is a morbid but true thought, and one that I dread.
One comfort, small as it may be, is that I know that my Grandmother considered herself religious and that she believed in an afterlife. I have not got any firm belief in much of anything, however, I hope for her sake (and for mine) that she has gone onto a better place where her mind or some sort of peace has been returned to her.
I cannot do anything for her now but hope for that and to continue to remember her as my Grandmother, and a person wholly her own, that I loved.