His death came with the sudden realization of how advanced the disease had become and how much he had actually done to help her on a daily basis. He didn't remember us at all. It had no connection to the date or what was happening. My grandfather had been so effective in giving her suggestions, providing her with routines, and preparing her for events, that none of us realized how much she had already forgotten. When she died, my grandmother's connection to reality was gone. When I lost my grandfather, I also lost my grandmother. My friends at school didn't understand what I was going through. They said “at least your grandmother is still alive” and all I wanted to say was, “Yeah, sort of.” None of them could understand what it was like to have a grandmother who couldn't remember who you were. My family never realized how much my grandfather was my grandmother's basis in reality. We didn't realize how much he wanted to protect all of us from this reality. I know this put a lot of stress on my grandfather and probably helped contribute to his as well
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