She couldn't remember my father had passed and pressed to find out about him every day - reliving the grief of losing him many times over a period of months. We tried everything to overcome that - avoiding it/changing the topic, lying/making excuses, etc. That was unbelievable suffering that she lacked the mental capacity to deal with when confronted with the inconsolable grief. A horror.
Incredibly, there was some upside - it wasn't 100% bad.
One night, I was staying with her in the hospital. Just sitting on her bed to keep her company. The lights were out so she'd hopefully, go to sleep. The person she was closest to ever aside from my father was her older brother. He'd passed away from cancer 30+ years before. My mother and I didn't get along that well and we were not close but I was most like her brother - I liked to lightly tease, joke around and not take things too seriously. In the dark that night, she thought I was her dear deceased brother. I did not have the heart to tell her he was dead and put her through more grief. So I shut up and went along with it. We talked for hours. It was the nicest conversation I ever had with her - by far.
My mother had had a tough childhood. Her mother died of cancer when she was eight leaving her to nurse her father until she was 15 when he died. He was bitter and nasty and would beat her with his cane. His body was broken from war wounds (badly broken back). He wheezed to death from the gassing in the trenches during WW1. From that, she was always nervous/anxious. She couldn't relax. Always uptight and could lash out. Alzheimer's eventually reduced her to a child-like state and all the anxiety went away. Sadly but maybe gratefully, I would describe those carefree years as some of her happiest because all the crap that had happened to her was out of her life and she was delighted to live in the moment.
Alzheimer's is a terrible disease but we did find a way to have some good moments.
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