It was a day I’d never forget. My grandmother, Gretchen, hadn’t been herself lately. She was more forgetful, confused, and her health was getting worse.
Mom and I knew something was wrong, but convincing Grandma to see a doctor wasn’t easy. She was stubborn, always saying she was fine, but eventually, we got her to go.
After several tests, the doctor sat us down and gave us the news: dementia. I remember the way Mom’s face fell as he explained that there wasn’t much to be done.
The medication might slow things down a bit, but it wouldn’t stop the disease from progressing. We had to accept it was going to get worse.