Nothing is ever really lost to us as long as we remember it.

(L.M. Montgomery, The Story Girl)

On the wall of the dining room, right between a vintage buffet overflowing with collectible crystal and carved decanters and a small window with a massive wooden frame and quirky colored stained glass, hangs a slightly faded photograph in a gilded frame.

In the picture — a bride of extraordinary, almost cinematic beauty. Her wedding dress's train is neatly arranged by someone's caring hand — everything must be perfect for this shot, and the satin, flowing fabric, which was carefully prepared for this moment, finally surrendered and froze into a quiet river, taking up most of the photograph.

The young woman’s face is soft, with a gentle oval, a small nose, chocolate-colored eyes, and warmth in her gaze. You can still see a hint of nervousness, wondering what awaits her ahead. Will the groom, a doctor just starting his career, be trustworthy? Will their family be strong, and their life long and happy?

I can’t shake the feeling that she resembles an actress soon to be introduced to a discerning Spanish audience by director Luis García Berlanga: modest, a bit shy, but with depth and true inner light. The young bride has no idea what a long, rich life awaits her: love, daily life, joys, and worries. Together with her groom, whose hand might have just shyly adjusted her luxurious veil, they will have eight children.

They will move to Libya, to North Africa, where her husband is invited to work at the American hospital in the heart of Tripoli, and where they will spend ten happy years of their married life.

Later, they will return to Spain, and the mother will have the challenges of raising many children — illnesses, lessons, vacations, extracurricular activities — everything multiplied by eight. The children will grow up, and grandchildren will be born. Then, great-grandchildren.

And then, one day, she will suddenly realize that she can’t find the latest issue of ABC that she set aside just five minutes ago. She will struggle to remember what day it is. She will begin asking the same questions every five minutes. She will completely forget that her eldest daughter visited her the day before. She won’t understand why her grandchildren exchange strange glances when she asks them for the third time about their studies.

She will start confusing the distant past with the present. And memories of her childhood, parents, and school friends will become so vivid, as if it happened just yesterday. But the names of her grandchildren will slip away. The voices of her great-grandchildren, which once delighted her, will now annoy her, and she will desperately yearn for silence — to sit in her favorite leather armchair, close her eyes, cover herself with a blanket, and disconnect from this noisy, rambling world.

And gradually, silence will come. Oblivion. As if some malicious hand reached into her consciousness and began shutting down parts of the brain responsible for memory, attention, spatial orientation, and mood. Like applause that gradually fades away after a successful solo concert, becoming quieter and quieter until it completely disappears.

Dementia is diagnosed every three seconds worldwide. According to the World Health Organization, in 2021, approximately 57 million people worldwide were living with dementia. Every year, nearly 10 million new cases are registered.

Dementia has become one of the main causes of cognitive loss in the elderly, and, as a result, social skills, rendering them completely dependent on others. It is the shoulders of loved ones that bear the enormous physical and, most importantly, emotional burden.

Psychologists are sounding the alarm — over 40% of people caring for dementia patients suffer from depression. A study by scientists from Rice University, published in the Psychosomatic Medicine journal, revealed that chronic stress experienced by spouses caring for partners with memory impairments negatively affects health at the cellular level.

This impact is related to the deterioration of both physical and mental health, including an increased risk of developing dementia and Alzheimer's disease.

The symbol of the Ouroboros — a snake biting its own tail — is often used to describe cycles that close upon themselves. In a sense, it reflects the situation faced by people caring for loved ones with dementia. Caring for another gradually starts to undermine the caregiver themselves — unnoticed but constant. And if this circle is not broken — for example, with support, breaks, or professional help — it will continue to close.

So, what can new modern technologies offer dementia patients and their families right now, in the age of artificial intelligence?

For example, Lenovo, in collaboration with Innovations in Dementia, presented the Alzheimer’s Intelligence project, which is a photorealistic 3D avatar with AI based on the real experiences of people suffering from dementia and Alzheimer's disease. This project provides people and their families, who have been diagnosed with dementia, with round-the-clock access to a virtual companion offering advice, with a focus on accuracy, confidentiality, and compassion.

The goal of the project is to offer those recently diagnosed with dementia an opportunity to ask questions that only someone who has experienced the disease could answer, such as how to discuss their diagnosis with loved ones, how to cope with daily challenges, and which hobbies may be helpful.

The AI avatar, created from real people's data processed by large language models, includes thousands of facial expressions and shooting angles that were used to create a unified "persona"—an" avatar named "Liv." The avatar can engage in casual conversations, answer questions, share useful tips, and express emotions through mood analysis. Each time a user asks a question via voice input, the AI analyzes the database and generates a text response using the language characteristic of "Liv's persona," based on collected knowledge. The response is then voiced using a specially developed voice synthesizer. To convey emotional tone, sentiment analysis is used, which is displayed on the virtual avatar's face. In real-time, 4K visualization technologies synchronize lip movements with the voice, creating the effect that the avatar is speaking directly to the user.

Numerous apps like Careflick, Celia AI, Mindmate, and Viv offer assistance to both dementia patients and their caregivers — with advice, caregiving recommendations, interactive exercises for maintaining cognitive skills, visual stimulation, patient condition monitoring, and informational support for caregivers — including articles, chats, and videos.

Researchers at the University of Melbourne went even further and created a groundbreaking app called MATCH (Music Attuned Technology—Care via eHealth). A long-standing analysis has shown that music plays an incredibly transformative role for people with dementia — it can reduce anxiety and improve mood. The creators say that MATCH does not just play music; it "reads" the very atmosphere in which the patient with dementia resides. Using sensory devices, the app detects early signs of anxiety in dementia patients and responds with personalized musical "interventions."

Surprisingly, music activates many areas of the brain, including those responsible for emotions, memories, and motor functions. Even if other parts of the brain are damaged, musical memories may remain.

And that’s why Carmen, mentioned at the beginning of the article, often hums simple children’s songs that transport her back to her distant past, when the plane trees near Gaspar Duque Street in her hometown of Talavera-de-la-Reina seemed like towering giants. When she, as the little daughter of the city’s ophthalmologist, was surrounded by endless parental love and care, she felt the invisible armor that this love could use to protect her from any misfortune.

Yes, the diseases remain the same, but we are no longer alone in the face of them. Technology will not replace humans, but it can provide respite, support, and ease — returning a piece of dignity to those who are losing their grip. Artificial intelligence, visual and voice interfaces, and apps with a human face — these are not just tools. They represent a new ethics: compassion, enhanced by digital intelligence.

My heroine can no longer understand how far the digital world has come. She didn’t see how humans taught technology the language of care and attention. But I believe all of this is not in vain. Let it help those who follow to walk this path not alone.