Unforgettable memory in Gran’s 20 year dementia battle

It was a 20 year battle that wasn’t destined to end well. But it was our love for one thing that kept us fighting until the end.

It’s 10.30am on a random winter’s morning in the north east of England in 1994. I’m with my grandparents as it’s the school holidays. It’s nothing out of the ordinary because my parents worked full-time and they had taken care of me since the age of one. “Gran, I wanna dance”, I say to her.

As a kid I loved to dance, and she knew it. She’d draw the curtains, bring out a strobe light, put on the music and I’d climb onto her highly-polished dining room table.

Gran’s favourite song was It’s Raining Men by the Weather Girls. After a very small glass of savvy b she’d climb on the chairs or tables at any family occasion and dance her socks off.

It was our love for dancing, parties and family that brought us even closer together.

Katie pictured with her Gran in 2015 before she made the move to Australia

But by the time she was 70 she’d forgotten how to do most things – except dance. She’d stopped going to her mother’s club, her church group and she lost interest in seeing her friends.

She told me the same stories over and over again and called me by other names – usually other grandkids in the family – before she got to mine.

She’d often wander out of her family home, she’d previously shared with my Grandad for 45 years before he died, not knowing how to find her way back.

The lowest point came when Gran almost set fire to her kitchen. She’d attempted to make egg, chips and beans – a very simple working class meal she’d made hundreds of times during her lifetime. However, she’d forgotten the chips were in the pan and her stove top was up in flames. Miraculously, my uncle had been passing her house at the time, saw the drama unfold and threw the chip pan in her backyard before it burned down her entire house.

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It was at that point the family had to make the agonising decision to move her out of the home where she raised her three boys and five grandkids – and into an aged care facility. As a baby boomer, known for her strong work ethic, optimism and competitive spirit, this wasn’t a decision she took lightly.

Irene and George pictured with her grandchildren Trevor, Mary and Katie.

Katie's little boy Harry meets her Gran for the first time

She told us she wanted to die at home and we should never put her into accommodation “that would eat up any savings she had”. Being someone who lived a very frugal life this was important to her.

However, we finally persuaded her to make the move, telling her it would be a holiday, a place for respite. Little did we know it would become the place that would lead to her demise.

Gran became confined to her bedroom and was later bed-bound.

However, on the rare occasions she’d leave her room she’d dance. One song she never forgot was It’s Raining Men.

Gran taught me a lot of things. How to bake, how to knit but most importantly she showed me how to love, how to never give up and what it takes to be a strong woman.

She also taught me fun. Fun when it came to family, dancing and friends.

I left permanently for Australia in 2016, not long after she was moved into the nursing home.

My last memory of her was when I visited her with my newborn son Harry. I was unsure if she’d recognise me but as I walked through the door of her room she smiled and said: “It’s the bairn.”

In the north east we use the word “bairn” to describe a child. I will never know if she was talking about me or my six-month-old baby but I know I made her day.

Katie is pictured with her young family

Katie's mum Christine, dad George with her two young children Harry and Molly.

The trip marked the last time I saw her. She died in September 2021 and due to Covid travel restrictions I was unable to make her funeral.

But as I sat at home in Coogee, NSW, to watch a live stream of the service, a sudden rush of love and laughter came over me as she was lowered into the ground to the tune of the Weather Girls.

During Gran’s final years we lost her twice, once to dementia and once to her death. However, our memories will stay with us a lifetime and I promise to share those with my kids and grandkids – or so I hope.