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...

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,...