Streams of light penetrate the fog at yet higher angles, shifting the picture as if to announce new possibilities. Nothing stays the same it tells me.

Gradually I have come to realize that my heart will always say “no,” and it is time to listen to the voice in my head that is saying, “I can’t do this anymore.”

My husband's fight with Lewy body disease is over, but the fight goes on.

I want to snip away the indignant threads that wrap around my insides so that I too can be free.

As the caregiver, I had to start over by redefining who I was in the marriage relationship. The progressive dementia meant that this process would be one-sided, would constantly be shifting, and would always move toward greater loss.

The challenge of any marriage is to grow together, not apart. Lewy body dementia changes the dynamic of that challenge, but does not eliminate it.

When beleagered by the demands of caregiving for someone with LBD, it's important to stop for a moment and remember that the needs of the caregiver matter just as much.

Read one caregiver's story about her caregiving journey for a husband who has LBD, and the array thoughts and emotions (sometimes too painful or horrifying to speak aloud) that come unbidden along the way.

LBD caregiving is filled with seasons of change and loss.  But hidden among the sorrow there are also new insights and beauty to be found. 

Words of wisdom from a woman who has early onset Parkinson's disease, and whose husband has Lewy body dementia.

Dementia can be overwhelmingly powerful, but love can be even stronger. When that happens, "it's pretty much like witnessing a miracle."