I knew it would happen. I just didn’t know it would be so soon.  I knew the day would come when our oldest grandson, who is now five and a half, would show more responsibility, be more careful, and have more understanding than my husband, who is living with dementia.   I knew the day would come when our grandson’s brain, which is constantly growing, would work better and faster than my husband’s, which is constantly shrinking. I knew the day would come when the two would—in terms of cognitive ability—meet in the middle, one continuing to advance, the other continuing to decline.  I knew it would happen. I just didn’t know it would hurt so much.  I didn’t come to this realization in an instant, of course. In reaching this conclusion, I am probably several months behind.  One of the places Tom and Lincoln both love is Chick-fil-A, Tom for the food and Lincoln for the play area (not to mention the ice cream). Over this school year, we have often picked Lincoln up on a Friday and taken him either to our house or this favorite spot for dinner and play time.  When we visit our local Chick-fil-A, we have to walk across the drive-thru lane to enter the restaurant. I used to hold our grandson’s hand when we did this to make sure he stayed safe.   But for the past several months, I’ve asked Lincoln to keep Grandpa safe. He walks beside Tom, holding his hand or his walker; looks both ways when we have to cross the drive-thru lane; and opens the door so Tom and I can go through first.  In the past, I loved our trips to Chick-fil-A because it was one of the few places where Tom would engage with Lincoln. He would stay in the play area with him, hiding from him as he came down the slide, then jumping out to “scare” him. Even while LWD, he did his best to make sure Lincoln stayed safe.  These days, I choose a table close to the play area because Tom rarely wants to go inside with Lincoln. I can monitor our busy boy from the table or, if I’m in the play area with him, keep an eye on Tom, who is usually sitting at the table, eating or staring into space.  We can still do the same activity; it’s just different now. We can still enjoy our time together; it’s just different now. Tom’s still himself; he’s just different now. As time has gone on and his brain change has continued, I’ve made some necessary adjustments. Some of these have been big ones: Managing all our money. Becoming the sole breadwinner....

Guest post by Crystal Bowman A note from Marti: Tom finally received a diagnosis of dementia not long before my friend Crystal Bowman wrote a children’s picture book dealing this challenging topic. But even at this stage in our journey, I recognized When Grandma Forgets, Love Remembers as an important work. I’m so thankful for this book, which captures the beauty of the grandparent-grandchild relationship all the way through the dementia journey. I also know a precocious 4-year-old for whom it will have special meaning. I encourage you to check it out for yourself or someone else who may need this vital resource. Senior Moments As we age, we joke about being forgetful or having a senior moment. But when memory loss is the result of dementia or Alzheimer’s, it isn’t funny anymore. With the Baby Boomer population aging, dementia is on the rise. It is estimated that 1 in 10 adults over the age of 65 have some form of dementia. This debilitating disease affects not only the person, but the extended family as well. How do parents explain to their children that Grandma or Grandpa no longer knows their name? Children are sad and confused when the relationship they enjoyed is no longer there. Parents need resources to help children understand why things are different. I Love You to the Stars, When Grandma Forgets, Love Remembers (Kregel Publishing, 2020), is a picture book that enables parents to explain memory loss to a child.   The Sweet Story The story begins when Grandma and her dog, Sunny, move in with a young boy and his mother. The boy and his grandma spend hours doing puzzles, reading books, and going to the park. One day, when the boy returns home from school, Grandma is in the driveway with a police officer. She and Sunny went for a walk and got lost. Things continue to worsen when she misplaces items in the house and when she no longer engages in activities. The mother explains that Grandma’s mind is sick and now it is their turn to help her. When they can no longer care for her, she moves to a home where caregivers help with her daily needs. The boy, his mom and Sunny visit her often and enjoy spending time with her again. The message in the story is that even though memories may fade, love will always last. The Story Behind the Story A professor from Denver Seminary lost his brilliant wife to dementia in her early 60s. He wrote about his painful journey in a memoir but wanted to reach children as well. The story of his wife was the inspiration for this book. It is considered...

Tom meets his grandson, 1 month old. Dear Lincoln, You’re too young to read this although I’m sure, as advanced as you already are, it won’t be long before you are reading not only letters but entire books. First of all, I want to wish you a great  big HAPPY BIRTHDAY! Grandpa and Grandma love you very much and can’t believe you’re already 3 years old. As soon as you’re old enough (and hopefully no sooner), someone will tell you about the sad things that happened many years ago on this day. I want you to know that your birthday has given 9/11 new meaning for our family. We do remember the sad things, of course, but we also celebrate the wonderful ones—like you. And do you know what? That’s just who you are in our lives. Your joy in the world God has given us has helped change what might otherwise be a sad time into one of wonder and delight. Watching you play and laugh with Grandpa blesses me more than you can possibly know. You love him in a pure and powerful way that amazes, inspires and challenges me every time. He even told me once that he doesn’t have to worry about what he might say or do around you because he knows you love him no matter what. That is a huge gift to us both. I want to share with you three things I have learned from you, Lincoln. And all three of them help me do a better job taking care of Grandpa. 1. COMPASSION: Grandpa coughs a lot, and sometimes he stumbles. And almost every time you’re around when he does one of these things, I hear you say, “You OK, Gwampa?” Your heart of concern helps me not taking even the smallest or most-repeated issues for granted. Lincoln, Grandpa is always more OK whenever he is with you. 2. PRESENCE: You love nothing more than having Grandpa and Grandma come up to your room and play, or sit beside you on the couch or even travel with you on the iPad as you videochat with us. We love the pictures you color, the cards you “sign” and the crafts you make. But even at only three years old, you’ve already taught me: Presence is the very best present of all. 3. CELEBRATION: Grandpa and I still laugh about the day you told us, “I’m so amazing!” I’m glad you have so much wisdom at such a young age. You are amazing, Lincoln, because of an amazing God who loves you even more than we do and made you “in an amazing and wonderful way” (Ps. 139:14a, NCV). We need to...

Dear Grandchild-to-be, What can I say? What can I say to you who have endured pain I can’t begin to imagine and lived a life I can’t possibly understand? What do I say to you for whom we wait? I want to hold you close, to call you my very own grandson or granddaughter. You’re the first one (and firsts are always special). I want to see you taken away from wherever it is you need to leave. I want to promise you safety. I want to say you’ll never hurt again. But I can’t do or promise any of those things. I’m a different kind of grandma, and this is our story. Yours and mine. More than 400,000 children throughout the United States wait in foster care, some of them (for all sorts of reasons) ineligible for adoption. Many have suffered abuse. Many have PTSD or other types of emotional trauma because of the life they’ve endured. Sweet grandchild, you know you’re in this group. But you’re so much more. You’re a person. You’re someone with hopes and dreams and needs and desires. You care about the people in your past—even (and maybe especially) the ones who have hurt you. You don’t know what to expect from the future, but you press toward it anyway. You accept help from many who want to give it and some who don’t. You push against rules even when you know they’re right. You don’t always understand what you do or how you feel. And, deep down inside, you wait. You wait for that moment when you know you’re home. You’re right. I’m not your grandma yet, and you may never choose to call me that anyway. But I can tell you this: you are loved. Your almost-parents have endured paperwork and more paperwork and red tape and training and inspections and lectures and self-doubt and more paperwork and more red tape and awkwardness and questions and paperwork and more paperwork and more red tape, all in pursuit of you. I hear the longing in their voices. They can’t wait to bring you home. They know the road ahead will have plenty of bumps, maybe huge potholes or lengthy detours. But they want to travel it with you. For you, they don’t want to be just one more stop, one more waystation. For you, they want to be Mom and Dad—no matter what the legal system calls them. As your almost-mom, my precious daughter, told me, “Even if we can only have this child at home a few years, at least we’ll give them a family to come home to.” That family is ours. And we’re waiting—   with so much love,...