Dementia.... I hate you.
More than hate, I despise you. I want to yell at you and make you give it back.
I am sitting here holding the hand of a man who no longer knows me.
The man you are taking from me. The man you are taking from us.
I try to connect through memories that only I hold now. Those that he remembers never involve me. He does not know me. His daughter. How can he not know me? How can he not know my stories of us. My best stories of us. My defining moments of lessons learned.
The man who taught me strength, courage , fight. The man who taught me how to push past adversity.
I hate you dementia.
I hate how somedays you pull my family together and others your wedge it apart. We focus on blame, anger and fear for something we can no longer control because it's so much easier than to admit we are powerless over you.
Control.
The man controlled everything. And now .... Nothing. Every day he loses more control, of his body, his mind, his choices, himself.
I hate you dementia. Hate what you are doing to him. Hate that you could do this to someone who is the epitome of strength, fearlessness, capability.
I hate that I have no control over you.
I hate that I am scared of you, that some day my children will hold my hands and I will no longer know them, their smile, their laugh, their song.
I know he's in there somewhere and I know he hates you too.
