It is strange to search for memories of someone who is still alive. To grieve for someone who is not yet gone. But in so many ways you are gone. The mum I knew all my life is not there any more. Your warmth and friendliness; always cheerful, generous, a bit silly, but always my mum. Now you move in a different world, where things don't make sense, where words confuse you. A world that is shrinking each time I see you.

Richard handed me this letter to read at the weekend, whilst we were in Hull primarily to spend time with my Mum who has advanced dementia.

The whole letter is beautiful, especially the paragraph I've quoted above. But, the final paragraph (follow the link and read it in full) is beautiful, and sad and wonderful and oh, so true.

I wanted to let this letter settle within a bit, and see if it still affected me when I wasn't so (physically) close to Mum, and you know what, it does.