Dementia is stealing memories from my dad. It’s wrapped it’s hateful tentacles around his brain. Every day I see how it has squeezed out more of those precious moments – the ones he used to animatedly recount to my kids. But every day, yes every single day, I see how my dad fights the grip dementia has on his very soul. I see the glimmer of who he used to be and I know, that with all his might, he is fighting to remember. And with all that I am, I will be there to hold his hand and help him remember.