For several reasons I have moved this blog to Wordpress. The new address is: www.dementialand.wordpress.com.
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Blessings.
Cindy
Sunday, January 20, 2013
Saturday, January 19, 2013
The Broken Heart
Dementia is heartbreaking.
It is so difficult to lose someone you love a piece at a time. When someone dies, there is closure. You go through the stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. But when you love someone with dementia, you can get stuck in a "denial, anger, bargaining and depression" loop.
At least I did. It is impossible to describe to someone the relentless feeling of sorrow and loss that you live with every single day. It's an underlying sadness and loneliness that defines your entire world. And you don't feel like you can talk about it. You're certain nobody can really understand. Come to think of it, when dealing with grief and dementia there is another stage thrown in there somewhere: fear. There is fear of the unknown, of what's happening to your loved one, and even of whether or not you are going to be able to cope with it all without completely falling apart.
I write this offering today just to let you know - I get it. There are some sadnesses that are too big for words. If you are experiencing this heartbreak, I hope it helps to know that even though it may feel like it, you are not really alone. People do care, but they don't know what to do. They want to help, but they don't know how. Our culture doesn't know what to do with heartbreak. We like to fix things. And part of the heartbreak of dementia is that it is not fixable.
My mom, who was so wise before her illness, once told me that there are times in your life that you just have to get through. There aren't always solutions. But we don't have to get through it alone. There is One who loves us, who is "gentle and humble in heart", who promises to be there for us through all the heartbreaks of life. He truly does understand, even when we don't.
It is so difficult to lose someone you love a piece at a time. When someone dies, there is closure. You go through the stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. But when you love someone with dementia, you can get stuck in a "denial, anger, bargaining and depression" loop.
At least I did. It is impossible to describe to someone the relentless feeling of sorrow and loss that you live with every single day. It's an underlying sadness and loneliness that defines your entire world. And you don't feel like you can talk about it. You're certain nobody can really understand. Come to think of it, when dealing with grief and dementia there is another stage thrown in there somewhere: fear. There is fear of the unknown, of what's happening to your loved one, and even of whether or not you are going to be able to cope with it all without completely falling apart.
I write this offering today just to let you know - I get it. There are some sadnesses that are too big for words. If you are experiencing this heartbreak, I hope it helps to know that even though it may feel like it, you are not really alone. People do care, but they don't know what to do. They want to help, but they don't know how. Our culture doesn't know what to do with heartbreak. We like to fix things. And part of the heartbreak of dementia is that it is not fixable.
My mom, who was so wise before her illness, once told me that there are times in your life that you just have to get through. There aren't always solutions. But we don't have to get through it alone. There is One who loves us, who is "gentle and humble in heart", who promises to be there for us through all the heartbreaks of life. He truly does understand, even when we don't.
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