Forgotten but still loved

While I have been caring for my Mum, there are many moments that stick in my mind, one of which is when Mum first forgot my name.

It was an ordinary day at home. Mum and I were talking; perhaps I was speaking too quickly or hadn't noticed that she wasn't following what I was saying too well. I don't know. There was a pause, and she said, "Who are you anyway?" At first, I didn't really know how to take it. I thought it was banter and that she was just joking, but I also noticed her face didn't quite fit the bill. By this point, she was becoming slightly agitated, so I said, "Mum, I'm your daughter." She snapped, "Yes! That's right," as if I had previously told her something different. I must admit my eyes welled up shortly after. I knew it was inevitable at some point on this journey, but it was a shock when it finally happened.

To this day, Mum only knows my name if she shouts it out of habit when trying to find me, but when asked outright, she no longer knows. I have fully accepted that now.

She knows I am her daughter, often referring to me as her little girl and telling me how much she loves me. In my eyes, a name is just a name; she will always be my Mum, and I shall always be her daughter, and no disease can change that fact. I have encountered many other experiences, and I know there will be many more to come, so in the grand scheme of things, to me, this is a minor loss.

We could go as far as wearing name tags if we really wanted to, but Mum struggles with reading now too. Therefore, I find comfort in the familiarity, love, and warmth from her rather than in titles or names. We use a digital photo frame in our home to keep her familiar with all our ever-changing faces, including hers, so she can at least keep up with us through our changing days as well.