My thoughts are with you all.
I've been through this with my grandad's brother, my (great) uncle John.
A very fit man, worked hard all his life as a road worker.
Even when he retired he'd walk the dog 8-10 miles a day, rain or shine.
Then out of the blue It all started with a stroke, which the doctors seem to think brought on the dementia.
The dementia took hold rather quickly, ending with him going into a home after he nearly burned down the house after forgetting he'd put the chip pan on.
If it hadn't been for my grandad the house would have definitely gone up.
At first it wasn't too bad visiting him, he'd forget little bits and pieces but he'd still be his loveable funny self.
That soon changed, it started with him forgetting our names, then quickly that confused look cos he had absolutely no idea who we were.
Heartbreaking.
Then he got cancer, poor bloke couldn't catch a break.
Then we all finally get the inevitable phone call "you need to get to the hospital now he's not got long"
This is where things got a little weird.
We get there and he can barely breathe, barely talk, still had no idea who we were.
My mum is sat holding his hand, talking to him and telling us what he's saying as we're all stood at the bottom area of the bed and cannot hear him cos he can barely speak.
Then it was like someone flicked a switch, his breathing returned to normal, he started speaking perfectly and his memory came back, all of it.
We spent about half talking, saying our goodbyes and then he peacefully passed away.
It was weird, beautiful and sad all at the same time.
To this day none of us can explain what happened in that hospital room, but we're glad it did.