Featured Stories

  • Helen S. - He Would Want to be Counted

  • Linda S. - Forget Me Not Road Race

  • 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

  • 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!

Sons and Daughters

My beautiful mom was diagnosed with stage 6 Alzheimer's Disease less than a year ago at the age of 70. Yes, stage 6.  My dad refused to accept that anything bad was wrong with her.

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Sons and Daughters

Two years before Mom died, my sister, brother, and I began noticing changes in her. Her long-time family doctor would not make a diagnosis, nor would he refer her to a specialist who would. He led us to believe that these changes were a "normal" part of aging. Mom lived alone in the home we grew up in, with my brother and sister nearby. I live 90 miles away. The changes were more pronounced to me, since I didn't see her every day as they did.

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Sons and Daughters

My mother was a PhD in human physiology, played bridge, tennis, all the "right things" to prevent Alzheimer's, and nevertheless watched her "hard drive" slowly fail as she turned 75. Her own mother had the disease about the same age, so my mother lived in fear of a similar fate. As it was, it would be 15 long years, before she was finally released from the cage of this disease. I want all of you to know that we were able to keep her home for an additional five years because of a much- maligned drug in the news these days - Zyprexa (Olanzapine).

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Sons and Daughters

“Please don’t let me strangle my mother,” I plead silently as I try for the umpteenth time to coax her hand into the sleeve of her sweater.  She is sitting on the edge of her bed holding her arm stiffly against her body, refusing to unbend her elbow. It is still dark outside.

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Sons and DaughtersActivists

At any given time in the United States 65 million caregivers partner with their care receivers in a transformative choreography of love and letting go.  While most would call the dance arduous, I think few would call it joyless.  Daily transcendence of self in the name of love ultimately is liberating, although it is difficult to believe that when your elderly loved one is smearing lipstick on the lamp shades. 

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Sons and DaughtersActivists

 “Today I threw the Christians to the lions but I got away just in time,” my mother announces as I pull into the parking lot at Applebee’s.  Later I learn that she watched “Ben Hur” at adult daycare but today I don’t know that.   I respond carefully, focusing on her lifelong appetite for grilled salmon.

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Sons and DaughtersActivists

Two poems written about my mother while helping my father care for her. She is gone now, but I have these drops of thought in the ocean that is my loss. 

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Sons and Daughters

In the early 1990s, my sisters and I began to notice our mother, Jessie, showing the unmistakable signs of the dreaded disease of forgetting. As she neared 80, this woman full of life and song became increasingly incapacitated, every move, meal, and moment needing assistance. By the time she passed in the fall of 2012, constant care seemed all she ever knew. She was 92 years old.    But there is more to our story.

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Sons and Daughters

Jane was my mother. She was beautiful. She was smart. She loved the outdoors, her children and grandchildren, her garden, and sailing. And then she started to go away.

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Sons and Daughters

Ann, my mother, was the youngest of six children, born in 1917. Her father was a lawyer in Hartord, CT. She married her sweetheart, Bernie, during WWII and they raised four children. Ann became an English teacher and taught high school English classes, specializing in Shakespeare. She retired at 62, when she began the long ride to insanity with Alzheimer's disease. My father was her caregiver for a decade. He was devoted to her, but his health began to fail with kidney and heart disease, so he finally asked for help from his children.

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Sons and Daughters

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