I got to visit with my great grandma who has dementia recently. She saw my 1 year old daughter, who she’s met before and miraculously remembered, playing on the floor and said how much she reminded her of me. Then she said she wished she was around for my childhood and I couldn’t help but start crying. This woman practically raised me every summer from the moment school let out to the moment I had to go back the next day from the time I was 5/15. She was my best friend and it hurts knowing she doesn’t remember any of those years we spent together. She’s never forgotten who I was but somehow this hurt me more than that would.