When a mother started telling her daughter she didn’t understand her, it seemed like a small issue. Just a miscommunication. Maybe even stress. But it kept happening—and more often. Conversations unraveled, arguments flared, and the easy bond they once shared began to fray.
Something deeper was happening.
Unseen but relentless, a neurological disease was already working its way through her mother’s brain. By the time they knew what it was, their lives had already changed forever.
Growing Distance Between a Mother and Daughter
When Caty Stanko graduated from college in 2021, she returned home expecting familiarity. Instead, she found confusion—and a growing emotional distance from the person who had once been her closest companion.
For most of her life, Caty and her mother had been inseparable. They shared everything—laughs, opinions, even mannerisms. Their connection had always been effortless.
But now, even simple conversations broke down. Her mother didn’t just disagree—she didn’t seem to grasp what Caty was saying. It wasn’t anger. It wasn’t avoidance. It was like a fog had settled over their once-crystal-clear connection.
Arguments flared over nothing. Caty felt like a teenager again—misunderstood, defensive, exhausted. At first, she blamed stress. Or maybe it was just a rough transition after college. But the tension only grew. Her mother—an accomplished attorney with razor-sharp intellect—wasn’t acting like herself.
Still, her intelligence helped her mask the symptoms. She compensated. For a while.
Then cracks began to show: forgetting relatives’ names, struggling to use a rideshare app, fumbling through routine errands. These weren’t isolated moments. Something was wrong.
Caty noticed it first. Then her siblings. Then everyone.
In October 2021, Caty turned to the internet, typing in words like aphasia and dementia. As she read, her stomach dropped. The symptoms matched. All of them.
Months later, in May 2022, her mother was officially diagnosed with frontotemporal dementia, a rare, degenerative brain disease. The subtype? Primary Progressive Aphasia—a form that attacks the very ability to use and understand language.
Her mother was 63. The average life expectancy? Seven years. But even that sounded optimistic.
What Is Frontotemporal Dementia?
Frontotemporal dementia (FTD) is a rare, often misdiagnosed condition that affects the brain’s frontal and temporal lobes—areas responsible for personality, decision-making, behavior, and language.
It appears earlier than Alzheimer’s—typically between ages 40 and 65—and accounts for 10–20% of dementia cases. FTD can masquerade as psychiatric illness or even depression in its early stages.
Caty’s mother was diagnosed with primary progressive aphasia (PPA), a form of FTD that attacks language. It begins subtly—lost words, confusion in conversations—and worsens over time. Language fragments. Comprehension fades. Eventually, speech becomes almost impossible.
Even the most basic phrases are lost.
Living with the Diagnosis: The Emotional Fallout
The diagnosis brought clarity, but not comfort.
Caty was just 23, newly launched into adulthood—and suddenly grieving someone who was still physically here. Her mother had always been her anchor, the one person she could turn to for advice, comfort, or understanding.
Now, that tether was slipping.
A doctor gave her advice that she still clings to today:
“Live your life. Do everything you said you were going to do—and do it for your mom.”
At first, that felt impossible. Caty struggled with isolation, anxiety, and deep grief. Friendships faded. Her emotions spiraled.
Three weeks after the diagnosis, she left her hometown of Berks County, Pennsylvania, and moved to New York. Her father became her mother’s full-time caregiver. Caty tried to start over.
But the weight didn’t lift.
She drank more than ever before. She couldn’t focus. Her world felt cracked open and exposed. And unlike the rest of her family—who tended to keep things private—Caty began talking about it. Telling people her mom was sick helped. It made her feel less alone.
Still, the grief came in waves. It wasn’t just about loss. It was about the future she’d never get to have.