Lest we forget how this terrible disease impacts the person with dementia, here’s one from my husband John’s perspective:

The Quiet War Within

The battle stirs inside me,
silent but fierce,
a slow undoing of all I once knew.
No clash of swords,
no enemy to name,
just the steady slipping away
of the self I thought was mine to keep.

But in the stillness of this war,
there is a deeper presence.
I feel it in the spaces between words,
in the quiet moments when your hands
reach for mine.
A love beyond this body,
beyond this mind,
an unspoken knowing that
even as I fade,
something sacred holds me still.

I fight not against the world,
but against the tides inside—
memories washed out to sea,
thoughts pulled into the deep.
Yet I am not lost,
for I am held by more than these fragile thoughts.

Your love—
strong, unwavering,
is the ground beneath my feet.
I feel it in the warmth of your touch,
in the steady rhythm of your breath beside me,
and in those moments of grace
when the storm quiets,
and I remember:
I am loved. I am safe.

I endure not for myself,
but for the love that surrounds me,
for the hands that hold me steady,
for the faces that are still etched
in my soul,
even as my mind lets go.

And when the night closes in,
when the rage and confusion swell,
I turn to you,
to the love that binds us all—
something greater, deeper,
a force that will not break,
no matter how this war ends.

In this quiet war within,
I fight not to win,
but to feel,
to hold close the love
that is my strength,
my comfort,
and the only truth
that endures forever.