Mum before Alzheimer's

Mum was a very laid-back person, shy around unfamiliar people, and mostly kept to herself. She had an amazing sense of humour and never took herself too seriously.

Many people wanted to get to know her, but she only spent a small amount of time with others outside her family. She was never one for being overly sociable, but that was just how she liked it. Always busy, you would often find her doing something or going somewhere. She is, and always will be, very family-oriented and loved deeply, with her adult children and grandchildren being everything to her. She truly would do anything for us.

She took great pride in her appearance and was extremely house-proud, constantly cleaning and tinkering in the garden.

She is an amazing Mum—always supportive and consistent. She adores animals, and our home was never without one. Although she dreamed of becoming a vet, like many from her generation, office and factory jobs were more accessible. She was an exceptional cook, and we were very fortunate to have everything freshly made from scratch, sometimes even our clothes! She is naturally beautiful, both inside and out. Everyone who met her was welcomed with warmth, and many people still fondly recall their memories with Mum.

She was happily married for over 20 years until her marriage broke down, which I feel was the ultimate catalyst and a significant factor in receiving her diagnosis—trauma, after all. She gave up. Everything began to slowly decline; a once prim, proud, busy Mum was now becoming a shadow of her former self. I always dislike this term, but it fits. She was grieving, after all, and that was completely understandable.

Good days were definitely still there, but a shadow of depression lingered. Eventually, she no longer enjoyed shopping trips like she used to; she became tired and distracted, lacking patience for queues or sitting in busy restaurants for lunch. These were activities we loved to do together as often as we could—a Mum and Daughter day. Growing up, such outings were a luxury for her or reserved for special occasions, so it felt nice to do them 'just because.' She would always ask, 'What's the occasion?' or 'Lovely, what are we celebrating?' when we planned a day out or a meal.

I love to reminisce with Mum about life before Alzheimer's. If we aren't careful, we forget the life we used to live, and in my eyes, that would be such a waste. We lived well, after all.