Dealing with dementia is like grieving.
Having spent a lot of time reflecting on Mom's situation and not having anyone, until now, to talk to asbout it I have come to realize that caring for someone with dementia is grieving for them in chunks.
The first time I had to go to the drugstore to buy adult diapers, I stood in line to pay for them and felt the tears well up. Luckily I held it together til I got in the car.Since then it has been little things, that make me grieve. Is this life or some higher power making the end easier to accept?