Get a tissue.

My mother had progressive dementia for at least the final decade or so of her life.

She died with it at the age of 90 in a lovely memory care facility my sister found just 10 minutes from her own home that took wonderful care of her.

She had forgotten how to swallow food by that point. She could no longer walk.

But she actually had the very best kind of dementia, at least I’ve always thought so, because she wasn’t angry, and was only occasionally frightened, and even that subsided after a month or two.

In her mind during those years, she was lunching at the White House, dating a member of the Golden State Warriors, expecting a baby, personal friends with Buster Posey of the San Francisco Giants, owner of “this luxury hotel” she bought for herself…

Still, it required a full staff, specially trained, especially empathetic and kind and caring, to be with her and meet all of her daily needs.

I will always be grateful for her end of life care at this lovely home and for my sister who did the work of finding it.

I don’t believe anyone can do this alone, so if this is part of your journey right now, please – please – be kind to, and gentle with, yourself.

You are not breaking a promise by needing, and asking for, help.

You’re not.