I recently read this poem about losing a loved one by Henry Scott Holland. It seemed really pertinent to apply this to the feeling that we have 'lost someone', when they are diagnosed with dementia. (I have adapted it slightly, so please grant me poetic license)
Dementia is nothing at all.
I have only moved out to a place not far away
I am I and you are you. Whatever we were to each other, That, we still are. Call me by my old familiar name. Speak to me in the easy way which you always used. Put no difference in your tone. Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow. Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes we enjoyed together. Play, smile, think of me. Pray for me. Let my name be ever the household word
Let it be spoken without effect. Without the trace of a shadow on it. Life means all that it ever meant. It is the same that it ever was. There is absolute unbroken continuity. Why should I be out of mind
Because I am out of sight?
I am still here, waiting for you. For a visit. Sometime. I’m very near.
Around the corner.
Come and see me.
All is well.