Grieving Someone Still Alive

The loss of any person whom we have known for years, is understandably traumatic. The loss of what it means to be that person while they are still alive is especially hard. Context is everything in our relationships with one another. Dementia is cruel to the sufferer, as well as to those around them.

With dementia, there are the obvious instances of loss, like no longer being able to share common memories. Experiences from the past are no longer remembered, or remembered differently. As a symptom of the other person’s loss, these are sad but not dramatically tragic. 

Accumulation of many of these events, however, are wearing on family and caregivers. As memories leave, so too part of our relationships are diminished.

In my experience, sometimes the loved one experiences lucid moments when they sense that something is off. They hesitate in the recounting, or perhaps pause to verify with the listener if they remember it that way also. Over time though, this self awareness fades and the sharing of those memories with them.

I cannot help but feel a little betrayed by this loss. I did not realize that as the loved one loses their past, I too lose part of my past. 

Context can be tough.

Points in Time

From loss comes learning.

There is an uncertainty that one is introduced to in the course of caregiving. Call it recognizing your mortality, or seeing life as it is, but a veil is pulled back on our understanding of life and memory. 

Like developmental biology where parts of a body (human or otherwise) grow only at certain prescribed times. Miss a cue to do something, too bad. (Our universe is notoriously indifferent to mistakes.) There is no going back to make corrections or make up for missed opportunities. Ever.

Seeing that, we are committed to the present, whether we like it or not.

Impermanence sure is an eye opener.

Holding Back the Years

Of course, we do get to choose our response.

Dad, over the years, shared a number of regrets for things he thought he should have done differently. These weighed heavily on him and pulled down his spirit over time.

Taking this as an example of what I do not want to do, I have pursued a philosophy of acceptance. Change things when and where I can. For all of the rest, accept them for what they are. Mistakes, missed opportunities, dumb moves – just take the lesson, if there is one, and move on.

Memories connect us to the past but we do not live there.

Unfairness

In the same way personal memories can pull us down, the events of caring for someone who has lost connection with their past is but another point along the way. It is traumatic. Managing our sense of unfairness, however, is truly the task at hand.

No matter how much we hope and pray, circumstances are going to play out the way they are going to play out. Helping someone age out with dignity is our job. Whether they remember things as we do, or not, is not required.

Accept these wonderful souls for where they are and quietly grieve the loss of their company and past. We cannot change their situation, so we manage how we adapt. We are far stronger than we give ourselves credit for. Acceptance of the situation, and our best efforts, makes the long goodbye manageable.

At some point, Jesper realized Kaz was gone.
“Not one for goodbyes, is he?” he muttered.
“He doesn’t say goodbye,” Inej said.
She kept her eyes on the lights of the canal. Somewhere in the garden, a night bird began to sing.
“He just lets go.”
― Leigh Bardugo