MY family has been through a difficult time these last few weeks, as my elderly grandmother took a turn for the worse.

She has suffered with Parkinson’s disease and dementia for a long time, but seemed unable to shake off a nasty cough, and eventually became confined to her bed, losing the natural reflex to swallow, before she passed away.

Dementia is a cruel disease. I saw it take hold of my grandma, claiming her mind and her body.

But her personality wasn’t entirely lost to dementia, and she often showed sparks of her former self, making us laugh, offering a kind word or correcting our pronunciation.

She lived in a specialist dementia home, and visiting her there opened my eyes up to the full horrors of the disease.

Thankfully, for her and us, she was always relatively happy and content, and suffered little distress as the illness developed. But for other unlucky souls, this was not the case.

Some constantly repeated words or phrases on a loop, others cried for their mums or displayed aggression, and some wailed in despair, asking for God to take them.

Then there were those who just sat, with no words left to offer the world, no expressions or smiles, being spoon-fed in a chair, hidden away from society.

I wonder who these people were in their former lives. What had they achieved?

Dementia doesn’t discriminate, you see – it takes lawyers, doctors, even celebrities.

My grandma ran a children’s home. She spent her life thinking about other people. And you could still see that selfless side of her, even in the final stages of dementia. It shone through.

Sadly others seem to lose all sense of the people they used to be.

This is, of course, hardest on their relatives – the wives who loyally visit every day, still caring for and loving their husband, even though he bears little resemblance to the man he once was, or the sons and daughters who now find themselves in a complete role-reversal. It’s incredibly sad.

It’s a difficult subject. But if their former selves could see their dementia-ridden body, their loss of dignity, would they want to carry on?

As more and more people are expected to suffer from dementia, unfortunately it’s a question that may need addressing.

I know that for my family at least, we dreaded the thought of my grandma ending up as one of those who just sit, with no recognition when we visit.

In the end, I’m just glad she was comfortable and peaceful, because really, that’s all that matters.

And although she’s gone, I’ll always remember, and love, her former self.

l For more information about dementia, visit alzheimers. org.uk.