Me: You know these conversations that we’re having?
Anthony: Yes, I do.
Me: They’re rather wonderful aren’t they.
Anthony: They certainly help to pass the time of day.
Me: Master of the understatement aren’t you.
Anthony: I try.
Me: What I like best is that you don’t have dementia anymore.
Anthony: What are you talking about? I never had dementia.
Me: Well, okay, you must have forgotten.
Anthony: You talk a lot of rubbish sometimes.
Me: That’s what I used to say to you – kindly.
Anthony: What’s your point?
Me: It almost feels like we are time travelling backwards and a bit forwards but mostly backwards. In a good way. I’m remembering all sorts of things – conversations and your wit.
Anthony: I like to have my wits turned on.
Me: You never really lost that did you.
Anthony: I never really lost anything actually.
Me: Sometimes, when you said really crazy things, I used to think maybe you were pulling my leg.
Anthony: I was.
Me: No you weren’t.
Anthony: Have it your way.
Me: No need to get huffy.
Anthony: I’m not but I don’t like you saying I had dementia. Horrible word.
Me: But you did have it. I just never told you.
Anthony: Well maybe a little bit.
Me: No, a lot.
Anthony: Bull.
Me: I thought heavenly creatures like you basked in the truth.
Anthony: I’d rather do a dare.
Me: Okay, I dare you to acknowledge that you had dementia.
Anthony: Entrapped. Okay, okay, you got me.
Me: I thought it was fantastic that you didn’t know.
Anthony: A blessing in disguise?
Me: Exactly.
Anthony: It must have been hard on you.
Me: I guess so, to begin with, but I got used to it. I got used to you with dementia. It didn’t scare me at all but it probably would have scared you if you knew.
Anthony: It was bloody beautiful of you not to tell me.
Me: Remember how you would get confused and I would reassure you that it was just the Parkinson’s disease?
Anthony: Yes.
Me: Well that was instead of telling you it was dementia.
Anthony: I heard you tell someone the other day that we made friends with dementia. Clever.
Me: That’s what it felt like. It was sort of whimsical and we even had fun with it.
Anthony: With what?
Me: With the dementia. In retrospect.
Anthony: If you say so.
Me: Come on. Admit it.
Anthony: Okay. Yes, you’re right. I’m so sorry, Jules. It must have been ghastly.
Me: No, it wasn’t. It was still you.
Anthony: It’s good what we have isn’t it.
Me: It’s the best thing on earth.
Anthony: And in heaven.
Me: Bloody hell! Okay, Amen.
Anthony: Amen.
jmgoyder 
Julie, you are such an inspiration to me now – Your healing conversations will help so many people with their grief. It’s much more than simply saying that one’s beloved wants them to heal. You have allowed Anthony to help you heal. It is simply the most beautiful thing in the world.
It’s doing me the world of good Judy!
Julie , I think these conversations are doing you good. a way to express the grief and hopes of another life
What you have is bloody brilliant, around the world too.
A bloody great chat you had there, loved it
It’s beautiful how the words just flow. It really is a conversation because you know exactly what he would be saying ! Diane