Glenn’s story

Lorna Dwight has always been a storyteller. 

At 80, she is still known for her warmth, her quick wit, and the deep pride she holds for her family. 

“Mum was such a people person,” says son, Glenn Dwight (pictured left). “She loved telling stories about her kids and her grandkids. That was her thing, she just lit up around people.” 

About five years ago, Lorna was formally diagnosed with dementia, though the signs had been there earlier. For Glenn, the diagnosis didn’t so much change who his mother was, it helped the family understand what was happening. 

“I think it helped Dad realise it was okay to ask for help,” he says. “Before that, he was doing that very Kiwi thing of just trying to muddle through.”  

As Lorna’s condition has progressed, the journey has brought both sadness and real moments of joy. Glenn remembers feeling embarrassed in the early days, unsure how others would react. That changed over time. 

“You realise this is just what’s happening,” he says. “You lose that embarrassment and think let’s just enjoy these moments. They might not be perfect, but they are our family’s moments.”  

There are still flashes of Lorna’s humour, comments that catch the family off guard and make them laugh. 

“She still drops some absolute gems,” Glenn says. “Once she even said she found my sister’s husband attractive! Those little moments mean everything.”  

Today, Lorna lives in a secure care home in Te Puke where she is safe and supported. Her room is filled with familiar photos, and she has formed a special bond with the resident cat, chatting to it each day.  

“She’s safe, and that’s the main thing,” Glenn says.  

For the family, the journey has required difficult decisions. 

Glenn’s father, Malcolm (married to Lorna for almost 60 years), visits three times a week, even as Lorna sometimes struggles to recognise him. 

“She’ll hold his hand and say, ‘my lovely husband,’” Glenn shares. “That’s about as much as she can manage now and I know he really misses her.”  

Glenn also talks about his niece’s wedding.  While his father and his sister, Robyn, attended, Lorna couldn’t.  Robyn made a speech about why their mother wasn’t there – it was very sad, he says. 

There is also the quiet weight of distance and responsibility. Glenn lives in Christchurch, and Robyn has taken on much of their mother’s local care coordination. “She’s been incredible,” he says.  

Through it all, Glenn has come to believe that openness matters. “There’s no shame in this,” he says. “The more we talk about it, the more people realise they’re not alone.”  

And while dementia has changed many things, Glenn is quick to point out that it hasn’t changed who Lorna is at her core, and how she ‘ll always be remembered when she’s at peace. 

“In Mum’s mind she’s reverted to being 25 years old again – so that can’t be a bad thing,” he smiles. 

 Caption: Glenn’s parents Malcolm and Lorna Dwight