Grieving a loved one, when they're still alive

The reality of grieving someone whilst they're still living, is strange. Certainly something I never would've understood years ago. I guess, only people in my situation could really relate.

I miss my Mum in the simplest of things; her cooking, her voice, her humour, her smell, the softness of her facial features, her calm presence and so on. She is still very much alive to this day, but sadly, not as I remember her. I still find myself going to her, with good news or stories of excitement, forgetting she will no longer understand, nor follow what I am saying. Most of the time, she will revert to something completely off topic, pointing out she is wearing her earrings, or showing me her socks.

Our family dog of nearly 17 years, passed away. We are huge animal lovers, and took the loss of our beloved pets with a heavy heart. Now, Mum is non the wiser. I had to hide my grief of that and many other things, so not to upset, nor confuse her. Although, I have read stories by people dealing with the opposite challenge, of constantly being asked where the family pet is, once they'd past on. I'm not sure which I would prefer, I guess we have the upper hand on that one?. I always had a rule of tell her once, as she had the right to know of any loss, within our family, but I tried not to constantly remind. Some days that was easier said than done.

Dealing with my own life woes, and not being able to seek her advice or know-how, was difficult. I am approaching the age where peri-menopause is on the way, who knows how I will deal with that, on my own. I hoped I'd have more time with my Mum being compass mentos, not for things to be lost before I turned 40!. Mum was always my biggest source of comfort.

Other members of my family are of age themselves, and having age related issues. Knowing she wouldn't be saying her final goodbyes was hard to accept. She would find funerals far more distressing than you and I. None of our family live remotely close to us, so travel would be impossible, and that would definitely set the tone for the day. Sadly, Mum was also becoming more unfamiliar with family members we did not see often. This was another sad loss, as she really did love her family too.

Mum became more unsettled, and unfamiliar within our home. She loved her house, and this was somewhere she finally felt settled, after years of moving around, in her youth. She had somewhere to call her own. She was always taking photos of her garden and the wildlife in it. She loved it!. It was my mission to see she kept it too. She was very precious with her family heirlooms, and took pride in her inheritance. Sadly, Alzheimer's didn't see any emotional attachment for anything like that. It was upsetting to see such things no longer taking pride of place, instead, just gathering dust on a neglected shelf.

I grieve the life Mum will now, never know. Her Granddaughters growing up, 2 of which she does not have a relationship with, due to living abroad, and not being able to travel, to go and visit them. She always loved being a Nan, I'm glad she had 11 years of knowing what that felt like, with her eldest Granddaughter, who does reside in the UK.

It's hard watching her look at some pictures, you can see in her face, she feels she should know who someone is, as why else would they be in a photo frame, in her home?. The puzzled look on her face says it all. The cogs are turning, but no longer in order.

I know one day I will lose her completely, in the physical sense. I think it's only natural to want to hold on to her forever. For the now, I have had to accept that parts of my Mum I once knew, are no longer, and only a memory. Alzheimer's is very gradual, so you do make peace with loss, sometimes more than you think. I have come very far in my feelings of acceptance, than I thought I ever would.

There is no denying it is always incredibly hard, and still to the day, a feeling I can't completely explain to another person. After all, you really do loose them again and again, you don't realise how much, sometimes. Caring is constant, I think that takes me away from sitting around with my own thoughts, so I don't have the time to realise just how much of her is now a memory.