A friend of ours at church was looking after her husband as he declined into Alzheimer's. She was lucky with him - he stayed the lovely, gentle man he always had been. Happy, loving, kind. They went everywhere hand in hand - because they loved each other, but also so she would know where he was, because he would wander. At church even the little children would look after him and hold his hand. I would see him walking along the path with a small child and they would stop together to look at a beetle on one of the roses.
But she had to stop taking him to funerals. It was just too embarrassing. It never mattered where he was - supermarket, church, beach, the street - someone would see him, go up to him and say, "Lovely to see you! How are you, old friend?"
And his loud reply, always, would be, "Wouldn't be dead for quids!"
Not good, at a funeral.
Marg