Walking beside Lyn: A husband’s story for Dementia Action Week

When Graham Russell speaks about his wife, Lyn, his voice carries both pride and sorrow. “She could have done anything with her life,” he recalls. Lyn grew up in Young, worked as a library and administrative assistant in local schools, and raised their three children. For Graham, she was and is his person. “This beautiful woman, this beautiful person that has been my person for 56 years.”

Their life changed when Lyn began showing signs of dementia in her early 60s. Small shifts in behaviour – temperament changes, unusual laughter, moments of confusion – were the first indicators. “You put the dementia thoughts aside,” Graham admits. “I remember being worried, but I thought, what if she’s got a brain tumour or something I could be doing something about rather than just ignoring it?” A doctor confirmed what Graham had feared: Lyn had frontotemporal dementia, a rarer type that often strikes younger people and “removes all the filters.”

Caring for Lyn at home soon became impossible. Graham recalls the nights of searching for her when she wandered from the house, sometimes finding her in dangerous situations. After a fall left her with a broken nose and leg, respite care became essential. “She had been non-verbal for a number of years but after the accident, she couldn’t walk and couldn’t come home. I said, I don’t know anything about it, but The Forrest Centre is convenient to me, and I’ve never heard anything bad about it. When they got her here, they thought, well, you can’t take her home. My girl’s been here ever since.”

Lyn entered care at Mary Potter Nursing Home in 2019, five years after her diagnosis. Graham continues to visit regularly. “I still enjoy coming in to see her and I know that she enjoys me coming. What is emotional is that this beautiful woman… just to watch that deterioration. The back end of life is not fair. But she’s happy.”

One of the hardest aspects for Graham has been what he calls intimate loneliness. “You wake up in the night and she’s not there. The arms don’t come around you while you’re washing up. You can’t share anything.” While Lyn still recognises him, Graham admits he isn’t sure if she knows he is her husband, or just “a nice old bloke that gives her chocolates.”

Despite the challenges, Graham finds comfort in the care Lyn receives. He speaks warmly of the staff. “The activities lady, Caroline, has taken a love for Lyn. I just feel like I owe that woman so much because she has got Lyn right in her heart. It makes a big difference.” That support also lightens his own burden: “I have no complaints with her care. Everybody’s nice to me here. I feel welcomed.”

Reflecting on the journey, Graham says he’s learned patience and perspective. “I think 96% of everything you worry about doesn’t happen. So, you’ve got to get your head around the 4%, and that’s not hard.”

His advice for others is clear: “Don’t ignore it. Get the help as soon as you can, because there’s plenty of help about. Every patient is different, but I consider myself both fortunate and lucky that my situation is better than most.

“And in terms of wellbeing, talk to people. Accept help from your friends. Don't be afraid of boring them to tears; they'll let you know when they've had enough. But you get stuff off your chest and getting it off your chest clears your head. And look after your own maintenance so you can do the best you can for your loved one.”

As Dementia Action Week reminds us, dementia is not just an illness – it’s a lived journey, shaped by love, resilience, and the quiet strength of carers like Graham.