Five and a half years ago my friend Pat learned she had early-stage dementia. She wrote the following email to alert a few friends. I was so impressed I wrote about Pat and her journey https://lucymoore.com/pats-journey/

“I will have a story to tell, it’s about dementia; I’m tiptoeing into its acquaintance with some shivers and some giggles. It seems a good idea to let my friends know so you can be irritated, patient, amused, puzzled, frustrated, or just plain aware of what’s happening to my more than 80 year-old brain-psyche. I’ve found that funny things do happen quite a lot, and there’s a good aura about my beginning journey into the never never. Anyway, that’s the prologue on this side of the fence. I intend to be friendly no matter what.”  

Since then, the friends – now known as Team Pat – have traveled with her into the “never never,” helping with tasks, being there for her in stressful times. She is still “friendly” as she promised, and she is still very much herself, a person we all adore. She is still in her house, still folding paper cranes and decorating nature with them, still sitting on her front porch enjoying the comings and goings in her neighborhood. On my visits, we talk about our pasts, our current complaints, local happenings, and we laugh a lot.

After a few minutes, Pat asks “How’s Roberto doing? Good I hope!” My husband is an old friend of hers and drives Pat to dental appointments. They are very fond of each other and manage to make her trips to the dentist into adventures.

I respond, “He’s doing great! Going to the gym regularly which is really good for him.”

“Really? That’s wonderful. I’m so glad!” And we slip into a conversation about exercise and how much we both hate it, and comical yoga moves we’ve invented, and the benefits of walking. A few minutes later, Pat asks, “And how’s Roberto doing? Is he OK?”  I have learned, for my sake as well as hers, to vary my answers.

“He’s good!” I tell her about our Japanese lessons and how much he loves learning to write Kanji, the Chinese characters adopted by the Japanese centuries ago. And we’re off, talking about our love of Japan, and we end up folding a few paper cranes….in silence, until…

“How’s Roberto. What’s he up to?”

“Well, actually, he’s kind of anxious about his brother who’s having a really hard time. It’s a concussion and he lives alone, and….”

“Oh, no! Tell him I’m so sorry. That’s gotta be hard to deal with. His brother…wow.”

I thank her and promise to pass on her message. We talk about both of us being only children and that there are advantages sometimes, and how we’re not spoiled (contrary to popular belief), well maybe a little, and we laugh about how we always expect to get our own way.

A few minutes go by. “So how is Roberto? I hope he’s just great!”