For a while, at least, after a person with dementia no longer knows exactly who you are, they still know that you are special to them.
That is so true. I was youngest of my parent’s 14 kids. My mother’s Alzheimer hit pretty hard after my father passed. She went 15 more years. We did all we could to keep her at home. Took turns checking her daily, everyone made meals for her, did whatever we could. Finally had to admit we could not let her be alone anymore and best to find a nice place for her.
We did. One sis and I visited almost every day. I had to go for breakfast and lunch to get her to eat. She would not take their food because she had no money to pay for it. I would go and tell her I paid and she would eat. Sis would do same at dinner.
She regressed back to baby. It was amazing to watch. Actually relived her life backwards. At one point, she wanted me to get a hold of a certain doctor I had never heard of. Told my oldest sis and she said that was her doc before I was born. She got to point she did not remember her kids, but I became her best girlfriend. Again, amazing the many secrets I got told. The boyfriend tales, how I missed a great barn last night and even a story that her sister stole a nickel out of their dad’s pant pocket. She helped - giggle, giggle.
Finally, someone told her their child was “her baby”. She looked at me and asked whose baby am I? I told her - You are my baby. She said she thought so. That was about a month before the end. I was honored to have been her daughter, best friend and finally her mother. I was thrilled I was there for all the events she re-lived. We had so many laughs and good times, those are more of my memories of her illness now. I was blessed. I can still smile and laugh at the stories.