fading memories remembered

I was recently talking to a friend of mine about our mental health and we started discussing tv adverts and how they can be triggering. This is obviously their intention but it made me think about my granddad and what we as a family, and individuals, experienced Alzheimer’s to be.

There’ll always be someone in our lives that makes an impression. It could be family, a friend, even a stranger, but there’ll always be a certain someone that we think of and will evoke strong emotions. For me, it’s always been my granddad - pappou in Greek. Since I can remember I was always fascinated by him and wanted to follow him wherever he went. There are photos of me in Cyprus during the summer of 1996 and in each one of my pappou he has me by his side trying to involve myself in whatever he was doing. 

There are hardly any photos of me as a child with any of my grandparents because during those years one set lived in Cyprus and the others in Birmingham. I rarely got to see them, but I loved and knew them none the less. That’s one thing I cannot fault my parents on. They made sure I spoke to my grandparents, even when I’d run from the phone because it meant I had to talk in Greek, and they made sure I wrote them Christmas cards and wished them a Happy Birthday. 

"there’s no other way to explain the experience except you’re watching them die a slow death over a number of years"

However, there is one photo I have and it’s one of the very few of a grandparent holding me and it’s of me sitting on pappou's lap at a family wedding. Other than my Christening photos this is the only one I can think of a grandparent holding me and I can’t deny that it’s extra special because it’s specifically with my pappou.

In the last year I’ve seen my auntie become a grandmother and my mum a great-aunt. It’s made me think about the memories us cousins have of our grandparents growing up. The main memory for me was both grandparents telling me all the family stories, connections and experiences they had when they were younger. At the time I was the only grandchild that spoke Greek so there were some things they were able to express differently, such as the unfortunate exposure to British Colonial rule in Cyprus, a father selling their favourite lambs and then eating their favourite rabbits, as well as the amazing story of how they both fell in love. Between the two of them, I really should write a book about their lives…

So when pappou was diagnosed with dementia, then finally Alzheimer’s, there’s no other way to explain the experience except you’re watching them die a slow death over a number of years. I’m very matter of fact about it because so many of us experience Alzheimer’s/dementia and we shouldn’t have to hide how we feel. At that moment in time the sole focus is on the diagnosed person and it’s very easy to forget that the people around them are also suffering.

We used to take him to these community social events which were specifically designed for people with dementia/Alzheimer’s and family members were encouraged to come as a safe space for them too. When we first started going I had just lost my very first grandparent, from my dad’s side, and it was all too raw for me. I was going through what I knew we were all going to experience on this side of the family at any point. I wasn’t particularly ready to be exposed to so many ill old people then.

"I found there was a fascinating aspect to the illness though. I was amazed at how far back it can take someone’s mind."

But, I can’t deny the joy it clearly brought my pappou and other family members. I remember they used to have a music session and on one occasion he randomly got up and started singing. We all burst out in tears because as a family we knew music was his passion and my mum and her siblings would always tell us how he would sing to them when they were children. Grandad even told me how he used to sing, sometimes we were lucky enough to see him give it a go. In those moments you see that the person you always knew is still there hiding behind that mask of an illness.

I found there was a fascinating aspect to the illness though. I was amazed at how far back it can take someone’s mind. Prior to him being diagnosed, my other granddad had already had dementia for almost ten years, so I somewhat already had experience of life with someone who forgets you. There were things that he would say or do that when my dad and I put the pieces together we realised that he was in a time zone before my dad was even born!

It was the same, if not more extreme, with Alzheimer’s. Pappou would sing in Turkish and if you spoke to him in English, he never really responded, but there would be a response in Greek and Turkish. I remember he once told me that when he was a child a Turkish lady used to look after him and would sing to him in Turkish - my mum and her siblings also confirmed this because he said the same thing to them years back. I used to imagine that his time zone was as a child during the 1930’s in Nicosia but somehow old enough to know he was married - he never forgot my grandmother till his last breath.

I could talk about him forever but what my chat with my mate the other day reminded me of is that everyone has a rich family history. We may not think it but when you really look at it and the individual stories and experiences that emerge, this is what makes us human. This is where true wealth lies and what makes life life. No matter how sad, happy, tragic, or beautiful the stories are, without them there would be no life and I’m always reminded to be appreciative and respectful of my background. It’s what made me and I’m lucky to have, and have had, people like that in my life.

Rhéa x