Tallulah Willis (left) and Bruce Willis (Getty Images)
Tallulah, Bruce Willis’ daughter, recently shared an update on how her family is coping with his dementia diagnosis. Bruce, 69, has frontotemporal dementia (FTD), a rare type of dementia that affects behavior and language and gets worse over time.
Tallulah admitted that she’s just starting to really deal with her emotions about her dad’s condition, after trying to avoid them before. On Instagram, she posted pictures of them together, saying, “I love this guy so much. It’s hard to feel these emotions, but I’m thankful I can now instead of pushing them away.”
She also shared some old photos of them hugging, having dinner, and looking through his old magazine covers, calling them memories “from the forever archives.” Last month, she spoke on the Today Show, saying that while Bruce is stable, it’s a tough situation with good and bad days, but there’s still a lot of love in their family.
Tallulah, Bruce Willis’ daughter, shared that her dad’s diagnosis has taught her to use her time more wisely and appreciate every moment she spends with her family, especially with him.
She said, “It’s made me realize not to take any moment for granted, and I really believe we’d be best friends. I think he’s very proud of me. You have to live in the moment and be present.”
In March 2022, Bruce was first diagnosed with aphasia, a condition that affects communication skills. Later, his other daughter, Rumer, shared that he got a more specific diagnosis of frontotemporal dementia (FTD), a rare and more aggressive type of dementia.
MY LITTLE DAUGHTER ANSWERED MY HUSBAND’S PHONE AND FORGOT TO HANG UP — THEN I OVERHEARD A WOMAN’S VOICE SAYING “DADDY AND I HAVE LOTS OF SECRETS”
The phone, still open on the counter, lay lifeless in my hand. Lisa, oblivious to the gravity of the situation, was humming a tune and playing with her dolls. But I was frozen, my blood running cold. The woman’s voice, smooth and amused, echoed in my ears, a chilling reminder of a betrayal I couldn’t comprehend. “Daddy and I have lots of secrets.”
My heart pounded against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the sudden silence in the house. What did it mean? Was Mark cheating on me? Was this some sort of game? Or was it something more sinister?
I glanced at the clock. 8:30 PM. He had said he’d be home by 7:00.
A wave of anger washed over me, quickly followed by a chilling fear. I had to know. I had to find out the truth.
Grabbing my keys, I slipped out of the house, my movements silent and swift. I followed his usual route, my eyes scanning the dimly lit streets, my heart pounding with a mixture of dread and determination.
I found him at “The Velvet Lounge,” a dimly lit jazz club I had never heard him mention before. He was sitting at a small table in the corner, his arm draped possessively around the woman’s shoulders. They were laughing, their faces close together, their bodies radiating an intimacy that made my blood run cold.
The woman, even more beautiful in person than her voice had suggested, turned her head as I entered the club. Her eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed with a mixture of amusement and contempt. Mark, his face flushed, looked up at me, his smile faltering.
“Sarah,” he stammered, “what are you doing here?”
“I came to find out what ‘secrets’ you and your… friend have been keeping from me,” I said, my voice steady despite the tremor running through it.
The woman, finally speaking, let out a low, melodious laugh. “Secrets? Darling, I think you’ve misunderstood. We’re just… friends. Old friends.”
“Old friends who meet in dimly lit jazz clubs and whisper secrets into each other’s ears?” I retorted, my voice rising.
Mark tried to intervene, but I cut him off. “Don’t bother, Mark. I heard it all. I heard her say, ‘Daddy and I have lots of secrets.'”
His face paled. “It was just a… a joke.”
“A joke that made my daughter feel uncomfortable?” I asked, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “A joke that made me question everything I thought I knew about you?”
He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.
I turned and walked out, the sound of their hushed conversation fading behind me. The air outside was thick with the scent of rain and betrayal. My world, once filled with love and security, had shattered into a million pieces. As I drove home, the image of Mark and the other woman, their faces close together, their laughter echoing in the night, haunted me.
The next morning, I woke up to the sound of Lisa’s laughter. She was playing with her toys, oblivious to the storm that had erupted in our lives the night before. Looking at her innocent face, I knew I had to be strong. I had to protect her, to shield her from the pain and betrayal I was experiencing.
I would find a way to move on, to rebuild my life, to find happiness again. But the trust I had placed in my husband, the foundation of our marriage, had been irrevocably broken.
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