Featured Stories

  • Glenda K. - What Happened to the Woman I Knew as Mom?

  • Jana P. - Going, Going, Gone

  • Helen S. - He Would Want to be Counted

  • Tracey L. - Make Lemonade

  • Kim Y. - My Mom

  • Jay S. - My Mother's Story

  • Gary B. - Lost Identity

  • Darla M. - The Evil Witch in the Mirror

  • Robert F. - It's about My Dad

  • Allan S. - Onion Peels

  • Katherine C. - Whatever It Takes

  • Lisette C. - My Best Friend

  • Joyce H. - The Story of Edna P.

  • Max W. - From Child to Caregiver to Alzheimer's Researcher and Advocate

  • Enrique L. - U.S.M.C. Corporal

Your voice helps bring Alzheimer's out of the shadows.

Join our community of story tellers united in their determination to stop Alzheimer's! Share your personal story, a photo of a loved one, or a video telling us about your experience.

Together, we can show our leaders in Washington and beyond why we must make finding a cure for Alzheimer's a national priority!

Latest Stories

My name is Bakhus S. Six months ago I placed my Mother in a retirement home. With Alzheimer's, I had been taking care of her for the past 7 yrs, she has been with me all my 52 yrs. When John and Michele Law (The Laws) had asked me to write a song about this from a caregivers view, I couldn't do it, 2 yrs ago when they had asked me. After placing my mom at the full care home the song that they asked me to write poured out of me.

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This week I had committed to volunteering at a nursing home that was filled on one floor with dementia patients. I questioned myself why I was doing this, and thought of cancelling. My thoughts of course were about my mom who suffers with Alzheimer's disease . I did not truly understand why I would place myself in such an atmosphere, that would only bring up my feelings about my own mother. Yet I felt that since I made the commitment I needed to live up to it and at least go this one time.

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Sons and DaughtersActivists

As I grew older, my father grew younger. I was 17 when my father ran away from home, leaving the television on behind him, the remote control lying at the base of the recliner that was still extended. I was supposed to be looking after him that afternoon as he sat in his recliner watching the stock market channel, staring at the numbers, forgetting each and every sign and symbol. I remember trying to keep my heavy lids from falling but finally giving in to the comfort of a woven, cotton blanket and familiar warm pillow. And when I finally awoke that afternoon, I saw that he was gone.

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Sons and DaughtersActivists


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