Perfection isn’t about grand gestures it’s about love that shows up in the small, steady ways. Even as dementia changes so much, Doug still surprises me with simple acts of love, like a sweet note or saying yes to a walk together. These moments may seem small, but to me they’re everything precious reminders of the man he’s always been and the love that still holds us close.

Advocacy isn’t always loud sometimes it’s the quiet persistence of asking again, sending another message, refusing to give up. When Doug whispered his truth about being tired of the pain, my heart broke, but my resolve grew stronger. Behind every chart is a person, and behind them is someone who loves them enough to fight like hell for their care. Being an advocate isn’t easy, but it is love in action.

Perfection isn’t about grand gestures it’s about love that shows up in the small, steady ways. Even as dementia changes so much, Doug still surprises me with simple acts of love, like a sweet note or saying yes to a walk together. These moments may seem small, but to me they’re everything and precious reminders of the man he’s always been and the love that still holds us close.

Denial and grief walk hand in hand with dementia. They don’t just appear once at diagnosis they resurface with each new change, sometimes in ways as small as a plate left on the counter. These emotions aren’t weakness; they’re love made visible, reminders that something important is shifting. Naming them allows us to keep walking this road with honesty, compassion, and grace.

Dementia doesn’t announce itself with big, dramatic changes — it shows up in the quiet, everyday moments. A missed breakfast on the counter, the wrong garbage can at the curb, a question left unanswered. These small shifts are constant reminders of the progression, but also of the love that endures. Being a care partner means carrying the weight of it all while choosing grace, humor, and dignity in the midst of change.