Tag: life
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I Remain in Darkness by Annie Ernaux
Annie Ernaux’s I Remain in Darkness is a raw, fragmented account of her mother’s dementia — exploring shame, guilt, care, anticipatory grief and the strange experience of losing someone who is still physically here. It made me reflect on how conversations around dignity have changed, and on my own dad’s illness.
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Grief in dementia
Visiting my dad now, I barely recognise him, and he doesn’t recognise me. Dementia changes everything—memories, personality, connection. Grieving isn’t a waste of time; it’s a way to honour what’s lost. And even in the sadness, there are moments that remind me he is still here, still my dad.
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The shortest day, over and over
I visited my dad on the Winter Solstice, the shortest and darkest day of the year. Dementia feels like living at a threshold — between past and future, daughter and carer. Advanced dementia, to me, feels like the shortest day, over and over again.
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Running on empty while loving someone who’s forgetting
Life feels like a long-distance run right now—school runs, work, dinners, collapse, repeat. I know I need to visit my dad, but dementia makes every visit tender and painful. He hardly knows me, and sometimes my presence unsettles him.
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Riot Women and midlife
Riot Women focuses on middle-aged women navigating that uniquely intense stage of life – caught between raising children and caring for ageing parents. Two of the characters are dealing with a parent’s dementia, while also confronting menopause and the other challenges that seem to hit all at once at this age.
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What modern life does to our minds
After camping in the calm of a Sussex meadow, returning to London felt like sensory overload. The noise, concrete and pollution make me wonder what modern life does to our brains. With my dad’s dementia in mind, I feel the urgency of protecting my own future health.
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Visiting my father with dementia
“Your teeth look great!” my dad said – the first full sentence in a long time. It landed like a gift. Visiting him in the care home is never easy. Dementia has taken so much, but that small moment of clarity, of kindness, reminded me he’s still here, in glimpses.
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Assisted dying and dementia
Assisted dying is back in the spotlight as UK legislation progresses. For people with dementia, it’s a deeply personal and often painful subject. This post explores how offering choice, with safeguards, could bring dignity and peace of mind – without devaluing life or rushing decisions. Compassion means respecting autonomy as well as vulnerability.
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One step forward, two steps back
Visiting my dad in the care home is a mix of quiet miracles and heartbreak. Dementia shifts constantly – progress one day, confusion the next. He said my name, something I haven’t heard in so long. I carry that small moment with me, even as everything else keeps slipping away.
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Walking, wandering & dementia
When dementia took my father’s ability to walk, it marked the loss of more than movement – it was the end of our shared rambles, his independence, and a lifetime of direction. This reflection traces his journey from avid walker to wheelchair, and the emotional terrain we now navigate as a family.
dementia in the family 