Aged 16 I watched my maternal grandmother die of Alzheimer’s and I heard of my mums uncle dying from the same brutal disease in my early twenties. Age 26 In December 2012 I first noticed the confusion. Over the next 11 years of countless losses and grief , I watched Alzheimer’s attack my mums brain. But all the grieving over those last 11 years has still not prepared me for this final grief. At 37 it feels too young to have lost my mum and the added grief that this journey began when I was 26. I feel blessed I was there with my mum as she breathed her last and to have the gift of seeing her smile one final time and that she was so gently taken home to be with God. There is a relief knowing that there will be no more micro or macro losses but I don’t know how to process this and live without the fear of loosing my own memory - I think it’s partly why I struggle to throw out old letters and cards (even ones which evoke unhappy memories), I feel a need to preserve my own sense of existence and life lived in case I loose my own memory. It was only following my mum dying 6 weeks ago today that I began to realise that grief has affected me a lot more than I have realised over these last 11 years in how I’ve been existing often rather than living - on standby waiting for the next call from my dad telling of the latest hospital admission or experiencing another heart splitting loss in my mums ability to connect with the world and people around her as the disease progressed. I need to learn how to re-live again and let go of the fear of what might happen in the future to my own mind.