When my grandmother’s dementia progressed, my relationship to her changed. I had been her loving grandchild, who she watched grow. She taught me to sew, make coconut bunny shaped cakes at Easter, and took me on a teddy bear picnic with her best friend Gloria once. Soon I became a beloved person whose name she couldn’t quite recall. In the end I was just a friendly visitor. We were lucky that she never lost her kind personality. She would say thank you for visiting and ask how I was. She never stopped trying to make me better. Her last words to me were “work hard!” Then she turned to my Dad and said “you, don’t work so hard.”





