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Do you know what your grandfather looked like as a young man? Would you like to read – in his own words- about the smell of the apple orchard where he met your grandmother? What he felt when he first saw her, the color of her eyes, where they went on their first date? How about his long dangerous voyage from his homeland – how he felt when he stood on the deck of the ship and saw America for the first time? These are the details that slip through our fingers as history is passed from one generation to the next.

But not anymore.

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ActivistsGrandchildren

My husband disguised it well, but I knew.  I had known for the last seven or eight years.

Red was sixty-five and I was forty-seven. We had been married for sixteen years. The eighteen years between us never made a difference. His sense of humor, wit, intelligence, and gift of gab were incomparable, his laughter contagious. He was a knight in shining armor for me and for his family. He had always surpassed me mentally and physically. Until now…

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Spouses and PartnersActivists

I am a brand-new caregiver. For almost two years my wife has been suffering from dementia, the category into which she was placed after the discovery that her spinal fluid had been misrouted through her brain - in my engineering mind, she had a valve fail. She had been able to do some chores around the house but her real persona had been disrupted. Then three weeks ago, she suffered a mini-stroke, called a TIA. It really changed her. The things she had been able to do before it hit were difficult or impossible for her now.

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Spouses and Partners

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