Hello my lovely friends,
Today’s blog is a little different. I wanted to talk to you all properly because some of you have noticed that Mum has seemed a bit tired lately.
Today is our Nanny’s 81st birthday. In December last year, she was diagnosed with vascular dementia. Even writing those words feels very big and heavy. We haven’t told you before now because Mum was trying to come to terms with it. It’s her Mum you see.
I know many of you have families going through similar things, so I wanted to talk honestly about it, because sometimes sharing sadness also shares love.
Nanny is still our Nanny. She still smiles when she sees me and says, “There’s my Malcolm.” She still remembers my name, which makes my heart feel warm every single time. Sometimes she forgets Baby Dog’s name and calls him “Sweetie,” and she can’t remember the Triplets’ names at all. That part hurts but I try not to show it.
Dementia is a very strange thing. It doesn’t happen all at once. It changes little bits of a person slowly, like pages in a book fading one at a time.
Some days Nanny seems almost like herself again. Other days she gets confused about where she is, what day it is, or whether she has eaten. She forgets things Mum told her only minutes earlier. Sometimes she becomes frightened or upset because the world suddenly doesn’t make sense to her anymore.
And if I’m honest with you all, it has been emotionally exhausting for our family.
Mum spends so much time making sure Nanny is safe. There are medicines to organise, appointments to attend, shopping to buy, doors to check, reminders to give, worries during the night, repeated conversations, and gentle reassurances over and over again. Caring for somebody with dementia isn’t just physically tiring - it’s emotionally consuming too.
I think one of the hardest things is that we are grieving while Nanny is still here.
That sounds strange, but I think some of you will understand what I mean.
Every small forgotten thing feels like another tiny goodbye.
But our Mum has been learning so much about dementia care.
One of the biggest lessons has been this:
You cannot reason somebody out of dementia.
If Nanny becomes confused, arguing only makes her frightened or distressed. Explaining facts over and over can make her feel embarrassed or overwhelmed. Mum has learned that patience matters more than being “right.”
Now, instead of saying:
“No, Nanny, that didn’t happen.”
Mum might gently say:
“That sounds upsetting. Shall we have a cup of tea?”
Changing the subject kindly is often better than correcting.
Comfort matters more than accuracy.
Another thing Mum has learned is to avoid confrontation wherever possible. Dementia can make ordinary conversations feel confusing and threatening. A calm voice, soft reassurance, familiar routines, and gentle distractions help so much more than trying to win an argument.
So if any of you are caring for somebody with dementia, here are a few loving little things Mum says have helped:
Speak slowly and gently.
Don’t overwhelm with too many choices.
Keep routines predictable.
Never shame somebody for forgetting.
Redirect instead of correcting.
If they repeat themselves, answer patiently.
Remember they are frightened too.
Take breaks when you can.
Accept help.
Tell them they are loved often.
And please - look after the carers too.
Caring for someone with dementia is emotionally draining and you carry so much responsibility and worry.
Mums spend so much of their lives taking care of everyone else.
Then one day, somehow, they become the ones doing the caring for their own parents too.
Life turns in a circle like that.
It has made me realise how precious our Mums are. Truly precious.
Nobody loves quite like a Mum does.
And even now, through all the confusion and forgetfulness, when Mum cuddles Nanny, you can still see that same love travelling between them.
A daughter still loving her mum.
That love remains, even when memories don’t.
So today I just wanted to send a little extra love out into the world - especially to anyone caring for somebody with dementia, or anyone watching somebody they love slowly change.
You are not alone.
Be gentle with yourselves.
And hug your Mum if you can.
Love always,
Malcolm xx