My dear cousin Gail lives in Auburn, near Seattle.

Gail was born and raised in Seattle, I spent my childhood in northern England.  We met when I was thirteen and she eighteen when she and her mom came to England to visit her mom’s family.

At that time the span in our ages and our considerable difference in upbringing gave us little in common.  However, when my family immigrated to Canada, fifteen years later, we were both mothers of similar aged children and immediately became good friends.

Since that time our families have spent much time together and Gail and I grew to be the sisters that neither of us had.

Gail was a nurse in her working years and was sad to retire at 65 but nursing is hard on the body and she had lots of back and shoulder problems after years of lifting patients.   She adjusted to her new found freedom and we got to spend a lot more time together as we were both had time to travel to and forth to each other’s homes.

About five years ago Gail began to show signs of forgetfulness, I reassured her that I was experiencing much of the same thing, forgetting names, losing glasses and car keys etc, but Gail’s problems got worse.  She went for medical advice and tests revealed she had the start of Alzheimer’s disease.  She was horrified; we all were as we had seen the results of this terrible, memory robbing disease.

Over the next few years the deterioration got more noticeable, she was still driving even though many of us thought it was time for her to stop.  Her husband Larry seemed to want to deny that Gail had problems, probably because he was frightened of admitting that his soulmate was gradually disappearing, before his eyes.  She started to get lost and had to phone home for assistance then one day, as she turned right, she hit a woman on a pedestrian crossing.  Luckily the woman wasn’t hurt, just shaken, but even then, Gail continued to drive until a few months ago.

Giving up your driving licence is a horrible thing, it means the loss of your independence, the ability to just nip out for a while or to go have coffee with a friend.  It really feels like you are being punished, simply for getting older.

Gail’s husband is very patient with her but the constant forgetting and repeated questions are very wearing on the nerves so, to give them both a break, Gail comes to visit me several times a year.  My husband Dave is a traveller and likes to explore different places so, because I am more of a homebody and also because of our catering business, we spend quite a few holidays apart.  When Dave is on an extended trip, Gail visits with me and we have “girl time” for a few weeks..

Our visits together are fun as we both have a very similar sense of humour, but Gail is not the person she used to be and it is very sad to see her decline.  She loves to “help” but her help has now the value of a five year old.  If she is given a repetitive job, she is fine but her attention span is very short.  She is happiest doing dishes and will stand at the sink all day, finding the clean dishes can be a challenge but that’s OK, it makes life more interesting.

Last week I made gingerbread men for the town light up.  I decorated one and asked Gail to do the rest in a similar manner.  She set about with enthusiasm but could not copy the original, which had two eyes, a mouth and two buttons down the front.  The remainder of the cookies had an assortment of places for the eyes, mouths were placed anywhere on the body and buttons were stuck on feet or heads.  How sad that such a simple chore was so hard to complete.  By sleight of hand I amended the decorations without her seeing and she was delighted to see them when baked, but no idea that they had been corrected.

I find it terribly sad that she knows her limitations and often says “when I was a person I did this”….  It is hard to convince her that she is still a very real person, when I know she is slipping further and further away from who she used to be.

Thirty years ago I watched my mom-in-law, who was my very best friend, struggle with pancreatic cancer.  It was awful to watch her fade away but it was fairly quick, just six weeks from diagnosis to her passing away.  Thirty years later I still mourn her passing but, she had a great life, even though it ended before she was seventy.

Gail may live with her disease for many years, just disappearing a little bit more each time I see her.  This is so cruel, she is in no pain but her confusion grows deeper with every passing month.  All I can do is support her and continue to love her while I watch her fade away.