If you’re thinking about dementia, you’re thinking about death. I probably think more about death now, aged 62, than I would if this had not had happened. I don’t know, though. Friends die around us at this age, often abruptly and quickly. I have just heard about a colleague, who I was working with in February and is suddenly very ill. I am more likely these days to see people at funerals than weddings. But because of Anna’s illness I have the opportunity – if that’s the right word for it – to reflect more on death than I would have done otherwise.
What is a good death? I would like Anna to die peacefully and with dignity and I would like her to die while I can still make sure that this is how it happens, Of course she may live for some years yet: she may outlive me, but I hope not. We will not be able to maintain her quality of life indefinitely. But I would not want to hurry her death – I am not interested in that argument.
For the moment she is smiling, benignly bemused. You can have a good tiredness, we used to say.