My grandmother is 73 now, and suffers with dementia. Her diagnosis has had a big impact in our lives, especially my father’s who knows that in this situation he must look after his mother. So especially at this time of the year it’s more important than ever for me to be there for both of them, which is why I took all the extra precautions last month so that I could travel back home and be with them at Christmas. I am very lucky to be spending the holidays with my family, especially this year.

The earliest memory I have of my grandma is from when I was around the age of five. I remember going to her house, and though she wasn’t much of a cook she would always ask me, “Do you want me to make you something to eat?”, followed up with, “Should I make tea to drink together?” The tea was then accompanied with bread covered in butter and sugar on the side. I even remember the container she used to store the tea in. It had a yellow lid that she somehow managed to burn.

The holiday was always special for us two.  It was almost like a tradition. Together we would go to the church of Saint Ioannis, where we helped provide families in need with long lasting food: mainly canned goods, or pasta and rice, so they wouldn’t go bad if left out for a long period of time. Before she was diagnosed with dementia, my grandmother would like to dress up and go to the hairdressers so she could go to church looking fine, and then visit family and friends. Her signature look would be a long black coat that had a fur neck lining. Sometimes I wonder where that coat went. Now though, it’s not something she asks to do, or at least she doesn’t seem to want to do that anymore. It is as if she understands her position – even if she can’t talk about it – and also understands that she is unable to do anything about it. Now that she doesn’t ask to go anywhere we have to ask her to go out with us.

She still remembers certain holidays, and especially Christmas as we go through the process of decorating the house. She even intervenes with the Christmas decorations, demanding that we change the position of certain ornaments to make the tree look better. Ever since I was little I remember the decorations being the same. Everything was always red and green: traditional, as that’s the way she likes things. And of course the tree has always been real. And now my father makes sure to decorate his home in the exact same way for her.

She moved in with him a couple of years ago, because of her advanced stage of dementia. My father is 48 years old and he is her primary carer. My parents are separated so now in his house it’s only him and his mother. He’s the one most affected by what’s happened, and often it’s like taking care of a baby. He doesn’t get daily help from a nurse or anything as regular as that, so he can get tired sometimes and reacts more impatiently than he should, whereas we, who don’t have to look after her every day, are able to handle her more calmly.

It’s sad for everyone to see my grandmother being unable to do things by herself such as bathing. She also sometime looks at things and is unable to name them, or if she can it takes her a long time. She also forgets names, and takes a long time to answer questions. I wish she was still more present and more active, like I remember her.

One thing she hasn’t given up though is her love for Byzantine psalms, which really impresses me considering her condition. She used to take Byzantine music lessons and was awarded many diplomas for her work. So occasionally you can find her reading those psalms and singing like she used to when she was younger. I remember her singing a lot to me when I was a child. It would be when she would brush my hair and make ponytails and braids.

Her main way to show her love now is by saying continuously how much she loves me and how I’ve made her day whenever she sees me. Hearing her speak to me with so much love makes my day too.

We still like to hand her presents on Christmas Day. We tend to go for something that has an everyday use, such as a scarf or a pair of fuzzy slippers, rather than something decorative, the meaning of which she will have trouble understanding. One of the last Christmas presents I remember her giving me was a small doily with flowers that I still keep in my bedroom back home.

As for now, having her here with us and having her still remember who we are is enough of a present for me. I like to believe that we still have time to spend many Christmas holidays together in the future.