This Is What No One Tells You About Losing A Parent To Alzheimers

When I turned 43, my mother forgot my birthday for the first time. 

The moment I had dreaded for years, ever since she was diagnosed with dementia four years earlier, had somehow caught me by surprise. Her decline had been so gradual ― so imperceptible that even the battery of exams performed by her psychologist barely registered a change year to year ― that I thought I’d be able to hold onto her somehow.