Spouses and Partners

My husband, Phil, was 58 when he was diagnosed with Early Onset Alzheimer's.  He has a Master degree in Instruction; taught Math for 30 years.  Then, one day, he couldn't find his classroom; spent 16 weeks teaching a group of college students how to use a calculator, before anyone told us what was happening.  I was his caregiver for 8 years prior to his health deteriorating to the point we needed Hospice care.  With the Sundowners, I took early retirement from my teaching job, to spend the time he had left, at home with him.  I learned so much about Phi

Six years ago my husband and I were enjoying an exciting life filled with family gatherings, vacations and successful careers. My husband, a clinical psychologist and author, firmly believes that happiness is your choice, and together our lives were very happy indeed. However, life is unpredictable, and over a period of months we learned that our dreams and expectations of our future were about to change dramatically.

This is a letter written to my state's Congressional Delegation over two years ago when my wife was just entering moderate Alzheimer's:

Carl was a brilliant man. He taught at the university for years and years and was frequently recognized by both students and colleagues for his excellent teaching and student rapport. He was a good father and husband on the home front, teaching our daughter and son life lessons that are still important to them. We loved to travel and to experience as much as we could pack into our days. Carl was quirky, too, and we loved him for that. That quirkiness led us off many a beaten path onto a better one less traveled and more explorable.

You know that day when you plan your life. You will get married, have some children, travel, and grow old together. He laughs about it that he will be chasing you around with his cane in the nursing home. Then one day you wake up and the doctor is telling you that the one you love has Alzheimer. To start making plans with how and when life is going to end. He is young by the standard of what people call old age...only 60 years young.

My wife, Clare, and I love to travel. Upon retirement, we flew across the Arctic Circle, strolled across the Great Wall of China and through Red Square in Moscow, and meandered among the giant tortoises in the Galapagos. But on one of our trips, I noticed Clare forgetting things, and these weren't mere "senior moments." She'd talk about two grandchildren, although we have four. Or she'd talk about our trip to France, though we'd never been there.