The hardest thing my family does each week

Dementia and grief have complicated my decades-long relationship with my stepfather. We visit a lot - and not enough. He is usually slumped in his wheelchair, staring at the table in front of him.

Sometimes he’s looking ahead, at the movie or variety show on the big-screen TV – typically something from the 1950s or ’60s, which I guess is what the folks running the memory-care unit think Michael and the other residents will find comforting. I often glance at the screen and say a silent prayer that the entertainment will be better if and when I need a place like this. My husband and kids and I try to see Michael once a week, which, given our busy schedules and packed weekends, feels like a lot and also not nearly enough.

With occasional exceptions, we are the only visitors he gets, so once a week feels like nothing. But visiting Michael is one of the hardest things we do. He barely speaks, giving short answers to easy questions like, “What’s my name” or “Where did you grow up?” but not a lot more.

They say that it helps people with dementia to be reminded of their past, when their brains were healthy . Tap into long-term memories. But we can’t do that.

Because there’s only one thing that Michael and I really share – my mother – and for him, talking about her is just too painful. We aren’t very good at this and yet, we are what he has, so we try..