Dementia is a terrible disease. It takes the mind and slowly destroys it, robbing the once strong and independent of everything.

My mother passed away on Tuesday, struggling in the last hour of a disease that slowly destroyed her over ten years. She was only 56. Growing up, I remember who she used to be - smarter than anyone, she seemed to have a sixth sense beyond that of a typical mother. I didn't dare lie to her - she seemed to know what I was going to say before I even said it.

She raised me with a sense of morals, honesty, and a love for learning. I remember sitting on her lap, as she read me The Cat in the Hat - she taught me to read before I even entered kindergarten. It seemed whenever I had a question, she had an answer. I looked up to my mother as the source of all knowledge and love.

The hardest part was seeing her in the early stages. She began to forget...words, plans, directions...eventually she lost the ability to write, to speak, and finally to walk and eat. She struggled and fought, but eventually the disease shut everything down.

Out of everything, hummingbirds were her favorite. I'd like to think that when she passed, she finally tore free from the shadowy black that stuck to her mind and body, and finally found light and peace. I love you, mom.