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My mother had dementia for many, many years. She was a crocheter. She had made an afghan for nearly every child and grand child. When her first great grandchild was about to be born, she made her last one - a baby blanket. It was probably 18" wide on one end, and 30" wide on the other. But it did the job!

She had several years living after that, and later lost recognition of us (but she once referred to me as the "nice lady at the end of the bed". After a few years of exasperation at losing abilities, she got to the point that she didn't seem to realize what she had lost, or a point of acceptance, and her life was happy if not full in our idea of a full life.

Hmm, I may just have to write more about her, as I too struggle with how to cope if and/or before I experience dementia myself.