Eva

I need to write this. It's not just that I want to, or have to, but I need it.

Six years ago, my friend EVa, who was then 50 years old, got the diagnosis Early onset Alzheimers. As per usual, her style was to be positive. Always positive. Sure, she fell apart now and again, hey, who wouldn't? She read about the disease and figured she could live a long life yet. She had two kids, one 11-year old and one 9-year old. A partner who she loved. It started quite easy, with her forgetting things. No major things, just that her schedule at work wasn't always what she thought it was. (she was a care-giver for a very retarded and handicapped woman) I think there are a lot of things about her that I don't know. For example, I don't know how she was at home, with her partner, or with her elderly parents. I don't know if she broke apart over and over again. I only know that I had the wonderful experience of being her friend. For a while, before she got her diagnosis, I almost felt that she didn't like me very much as she had stopped calling me... I was a bit hurt, as you are, when you really like someone and want to hang out.... you know?

After she got the big D, I realized that it was now up to me, if I wanted her company. And I did. We spoke about her illness so much. She had been told by her doctor that red wine was good for her, so she tried to drink quite a lot of it. We went away on holidays, first to Egypt (with Helena and some friend of her) and then to Turkey (only us two) and the last time to Estonia (with Helena).

She had pills to slow down the illness. She read up about vitamins and other treatments. But things that she had previously used for herself, as acupuncture, she simply couldn't get herself to do. Even I - who don't believe in acupuncture at all, was calling the main person here in Stockholm to treat her. (doctor Nie) She didn't want to. It was as if she didn't have the time anymore to do something she didn't figure actually would help her. In the beginning I met up with her and things were quite the same as always. Eva was a super creative person, and we would paint together, sing, be silly, dance around the flat, paint chairs and stuff..

She always had that idea in her, that she wanted to start up something. We had a few years back, started to play with words, to make a company together. We came up with one slogan, and spoke about how we would market this amazing thing, that would change our lives. But I always knew..in the back of my head, that things wouldn't work out at all. The last time we spoke about this company, I had bought some white t-shirts, and paint and we were going to write our slogan on them. I hadn't realized by then, that she no longer could write. She could still read then, but not very good. I cut letters out for her, and we tried together to print them on the t-shirt. It became a big blurb. I quickly stopped trying to do things like this with her. Instead we listened to music. Old stuff, like Led Zeppelin and Patti Smith. She liked hard rock a lot. She started staying with me on some weekends, as I thought that perhaps her family needed some air to breath. I have this tiny little flat, no where to hide or get lost. She took my bed and I took the sofa. Things were simple. It was either nice or not. Good or not. Tasty or not. We didn't speak about philosophical things, or anything difficult. Politics and current affairs - something she always was far ahead of me, was no longer anything we talked about. We went out to her summer house, a place she was very proud of, and we spent ten days out there, on our own without a car, and we just did nothing at all. We listened to music some, but I think that EVa got a bit disturbed by it. She wanted to take walks, but she kept forgetting to put her shoes on, and we ended up having to return. I forgot to look after her the way she needed me to. Maybe that was something good, instead of bad. We had some time there, where we were just two friends hanging out. She didn't expect herself to help out with chores anymore. And she has been the biggest work-horse ever and always loved working on projects and cooking and cleaning and doing things for others. I kept having her over for weekends. She could no longer enjoy a movie, even her favorites, even though she still said things that had her in stitches like "Did you fart?" and "groooovey". All from her favorite movies that she could remember, she repeated endlessly and I laughed every time. Laughing with her was great.

In june 14 we went together with my mom and my cat to my families summer house. It was quite difficult, she felt lost, it was so big, and she did enjoy sitting outside but it was hard for her.

After that, things went downhill fast. Her partner had a hellish time, together with the kids. I was only there sometimes, more rarely as the time progressed, but they had her all the time and it was so hard. The constant asking for things. For not remembering anything that was said two seconds ago. Her need was so great. We did spend a few days together though, and as always, I took photos.

I must admit that I didn't see her much after that. Nor did I speak to her, or her partner, very often. The trip to Estonia and a weekend here and there.

I wasn't shocked when I heard that she was moving in to a full care-facility. Sad, but not surprised. Her partner made her new little place so lovely. It was full of her own and his paintings, her photos, her books and her piano. All sorts of projects that she had worked on. A lovely red sofa, and all the things that make a home. We went for a moving-in-party. Some of her old friends. It was the 31st january 2015. I had made a little photo book for her. In there was lots of photos of us, her friends, and her family. I remember my mom having done one of those for my grandmother when she first got dementia, and I figured it might be good for Eva too. I doubt though, that she at that point picked anything up to look at. She was still Eva then. Not the one we knew from before her illness, but she was still in there. She could still laugh.

We still got together, she came to me or I went to see her. The home was depressing so I tried to get her out and about. But it only worked out a few times. I could no longer feel okay about taking care of her myself. I didn't know her needs anymore. I stopped going to visit her, as it made me so sad. And then I had my own problems, and my phobia which kept me at home at all times, and I guess that it was a good excuse not to go and see her.

Me and Helena have been speaking about her, and I am guessing that her other old friends have had the same experience, of not wanting to go there anymore. A couple of weeks ago me and Helena decided that we would go and see Eva again - once more. To say goodbye. It is just too sad to go there.

That day was yesterday. We called ahead, checking to see that it was an okay day to come. We went, we saw her and there was no one inside. Just a shell of her. I couldn't stop crying, but I did manage to not photograph her, but take a couple of short videos of her. It was easier that way, to get something that I could use. I am still crying now. My big question is; where is her soul now? She isn't dead, but she isn't alive either. A few times when we were there it felt as if there was a tiny bit of glimmer of recognition, but it might have been wishful thinking. She talks gibberish, although sometimes it comes out as a real sentence. Like "It's alright" - she said it twice. She also kept saying "hello" to us, but I think it was more like a parrot, because we kept saying hello the whole time. I was bawling my brains out, whereas Helena kept herself together but I knew what she felt on the inside - the same as me. Eva is still walking about, but without a goal insight only aimlessly. She has since a long time had to wear a diaper. She no longer has that beautifully decorated little home. It's all bare bones in there now, because she has broken everything, and even hurt herself while doing it. What's left is her piano and her red sofa. She can't play anymore. I don't think she hears music anymore. She is not there anymore, she is not Eva. She is a nothing.

We said goodbye. I can't believe that we did, we said goodbye to her, and now it's finally okay to grieve. And it hurts. I miss her so much, the person she was, the person I cared for and who cared for me. The person who had so many good friends, so many interests and so full of a wonderful sense of humor and joy. I cry for her partner and for her children who know nothing else.

It's time to move on. Goodbye my friend.