Not long ago I wrote a post entitled “What does it mean to know someone?” I was trying to differentiate forgetting people’s names from remembering them (something about them, one’s connection to them, etc.). Those of us without dementia are familiar with this. Everyone has had the experience of forgetting the name of someone we “know.” When a person with dementia (PWD) does the same thing, there is a tendency to believe that means the PWD has totally forgotten the person. Often, however, it is just the name that has slipped, perhaps temporarily, from memory. Thus the PWD is able to interact quite naturally with that person in social encounters without the person’s even realizing her name was forgotten. Again, this is a common experience among those of us without dementia.
I have mentioned this with respect to Kate’s not remembering our children’s names. Much of the time she can’t remember their names, but she really remembers she has children and proudly talks about them. For that reason, I was surprised by something she said at lunch today. She looked at me across the table and asked, “Do we have children?” She said that in the same manner that a stranger might have asked us if we have children. Then without giving any sense of surprise on my part, I answered her very much the way I would have answered that stranger. I said, “Yes, we have two children, a daughter and a son.” From there, I gave her their names, where they live, and their spouses as well as their children. I even told her a few things about each of our grandchildren. I stopped because I could sense that I was providing more information than she could digest.
Her failure to remember that we have children represents yet another marker in her journey. I know that this is likely to have been an isolated moment in which she forgot, but it is a sign of the progressive nature of this disease. As always, I reflect and wonder about the future. When she will completely forget that we have children? I’m afraid that day is coming altogether too soon.
