To the Dementia that is slowly taking away my best friend,

The first time I realized you were here was when she started to forget the little things -- things she never forgot, like where her keys and purse were or whether or not she took her medications. I never thought that in a million years something like you would come to take over her, my best friend, my biggest supporter, my rock: my grandma. Slowly, you have turned her into a person who begins to hit us and call us names that she would never do. My grandmother has been through so much. One of those was raising two children on her own the best way she could. So why Dementia, do you chose to take her? A woman who has already has fought so much during her life. As you progress, my grandma becomes more and more something she is not each day. The kind-hearted, devoted, and strong woman I once knew is becoming the weak, mean and forgetful woman I don't.

None of this affected me until you ruined one of the best days of my life, my high school graduation. Going through my four years, I always knew that one of my tickets was going to her. As I walked down the aisle in my white gown with red roses in my hands I spotted my mom with her smile big and shining. But, my grandma the person who I promised would see me get my diploma, was not there. Not even a sign of her. As I walked down from getting my diploma, I looked once more and there still was no sign. I tried my best to last the rest of the ceremony as a happy graduate, but I couldn't knowing the person who supported me most wasn't there. So through the pain and disappointment I was feeling, I smiled for pictures. I laughed and had fun because my parents were happy. I didn't want them to see that I was so hurt.

The next day, she told me something I would never forget. She said to me,

“Why didn't you want me there? Why didn't you give me a ticket? I have been by your side throughout your whole life and you couldn't even save a ticket for me. You forgot how I was always there for you. You hate me and I didn't do anything.”

I looked at her confused, sad, and distraught. I knew it wasn't her talking. But what she said still hurt. I left her apartment crying not knowing what to expect from you next. She knew that the ticket was saved just for her and she forgot and just started to blame me. It's because you decided to show up and ruin everything.

So Dementia, as I finish this letter to you I have to ask you two things. As my grandmother begins to forget, I ask that you let her remember me. From pushing the couches together at her house during our sleepovers, letting me pick out one stuffed animal from the Disney Store every time we went, helping me pick out homecoming dresses to her talks about what she hopes I become in the future, I ask that you let her remember all of the good times she has had in her life. Please let her to never have to worry about anything. Most importantly Dementia, please don't let her forget me because I don't know what I would do without my best friend. I need her just as much as she needs me. A life without her is a life I don't want to live.

Sincerely,