Laurie Graham Quotes
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The terror dementia sufferers must feel is unimaginable, but the techniques they use to hide their difficulties - the ducking and diving and keeping the world laughing - are perfectly understandable.
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I have a magpie mind, by which I mean I see and hear little things - photos, fragments of conversation - and store them away for future use.
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My husband is leaving me. No dramas, no slammed doors - well, OK, a few slammed doors - and no suitcase in the hall, but there is another woman involved. Her name is Dementia.
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Far more than dreading ending up in a care home myself, I dread having to put my husband in one.
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In the Seventies, my children played in the street, read politically incorrect stories, ate home-cooked food and occasional junk and, yes, were sometimes smacked.
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Sundown is often the worst time of day for people with dementia. They can become restless and difficult.
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I hate to think I ever make my husband frightened or unhappy, but I suspect I do.
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Even professional, paid carers aren't always models of saintly behaviour - and they know they can knock off at the end of their shift to go home, take an uninterrupted shower, and have a normal conversation with someone.
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Dementia is quite unlike cancer or heart disease or any of those other conditions where you bargain with God for a cure or even just a bit more time.
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In grief, after even the happiest of relationships, we go over things again and again.
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The thing about praising beauty is that good looks are an unforgiving task- master, a Forth Bridge of a maintenance job. The passing years present their accounts. Younger models become available.
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None of us wants to be reminded that dementia is random, relentless, and frighteningly common.
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I have but one rule at my table. You may leave your cabbage, but you'll sit still and behave until I've eaten mine.
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I'd like to see my grandchildren climb trees, not stand under them. I'd like to see them learn to make bread and brown it over a fire using my toasting fork.
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Childhood doesn't have to be perfect, and children don't have to be beautiful. From a bit of grit may grow a pearl, and if pearl production doesn't materialise, the outcome will still be preferable to the shallowness of vanity.
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I'm married to an American, and although we live in Europe, I think of myself as an honorary American.
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I've always jealously guarded my feminine mystique. I've been married twice, and neither of my husbands has ever seen me put my face on.
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My early novels were very understated and English. Fourteen years ago, I met and married my American husband, and as I learned more about his background and culture, I became interested in using American voices.
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There is something very easy about women's friendships that you don't see as often with men. We all know examples of this, when women will just call each other up or drop a line, not with anything specific to say.
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I've never minded solitude. For a writer, it's a natural condition. But caring for a dementia sufferer leads to a peculiar kind of loneliness.
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I'm married to an American, so I guess that has changed my perspective on the subjects I can write about.
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I know my parents loved me - they certainly did everything they could for me - but displays of affection were kept on a distinctly low flame.
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Caring burns a lot of fuel - psychological and physical, too, if any lifting is involved. The energy tank is soon emptied, and the toll caring takes is well documented. It's called carer burn-out.
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I've been lucky enough to travel widely. When you're based in Europe, it's very easy to go to Madrid or Budapest for the weekend. I also lived in Italy for ten years and now live in Ireland.