by Jane Gayer
It doesn’t matter where we live, what religion we are, how much or how little we have, what language we speak or the color of our skin. Throughout the world, Alzheimer’s is the same monster and we are all just trying to figure out how to deal with it.
You couldn’t write a script with a more compelling storyline of love, laughter, sorrow and loss than what’s being lived right now by Alzheimer’s families around the globe.
This is our family's story, simple and real.
My name is Jane, and Joe, my husband of 35 years, was diagnosed with Dementia/Alzheimer’s about two and a half years ago.
I wouldn’t call myself a writer. In fact, I’m dyslexic, which makes writing an interesting challenge. My career was in business management. That fed my purse, but to feed my soul, I was an abstract artist, designer, and an actor and director in Community Theater.
I can find humor in most things. To me, life is a comedy and is better set to music than tears. But, I also know that sometimes life can be a dark comedy filled with pain and loss. Someone said to me once, “Don’t you ever take anything seriously?” The answer, “Not if I can help it.”
I decided to personify my husband’s disease and call at “Al” and think of him as our “uninvited guest”, the hanger-on, the guy who doesn’t know when to go home. So Al is a metaphor, an image, a symbol of what we must live with and struggle through every day.
It doesn’t matter where we live, what religion we are, how much or how little we have, what language we speak or the color of our skin. Throughout the world, Alzheimer’s is the same monster and we are all just trying to figure out how to deal with it.
You couldn’t write a script with a more compelling storyline of love, laughter, sorrow and loss than what’s being lived right now by Alzheimer’s families around the globe.
This is our family's story, simple and real.
My name is Jane, and Joe, my husband of 35 years, was diagnosed with Dementia/Alzheimer’s about two and a half years ago.
I wouldn’t call myself a writer. In fact, I’m dyslexic, which makes writing an interesting challenge. My career was in business management. That fed my purse, but to feed my soul, I was an abstract artist, designer, and an actor and director in Community Theater.
I can find humor in most things. To me, life is a comedy and is better set to music than tears. But, I also know that sometimes life can be a dark comedy filled with pain and loss. Someone said to me once, “Don’t you ever take anything seriously?” The answer, “Not if I can help it.”
I decided to personify my husband’s disease and call at “Al” and think of him as our “uninvited guest”, the hanger-on, the guy who doesn’t know when to go home. So Al is a metaphor, an image, a symbol of what we must live with and struggle through every day.
I wasn’t sure writing a blog was the right thing to do, that it might somehow become an
embarrassment or humiliation for Joe and for our family. I didn’t know how people would react to so much openness about our struggles; would they think I was trying to garner sympathy or just indulging in our troubles? Would writing about my life provide psychological relief, or would it make things worse?
I have always been able to see the humor in life’s experiences (good or bad) and laugh about them. But Alzheimer’s is serious business. Would I offend readers by making light of all the craziness that comes with it?
I decided I would have to focus on my own experiences with this disease, to speak solely from the point of view of a caregiver. I would never be able to feel what Joe was feeling much less capture it in print.
I’ve often questioned what I write, fearing I might be in denial or becoming paranoid. Are things really the way I think they are? (This disease can often play tricks on the caregiver.)
With that said, here I am, with 44 posts hanging out there in the vastness of cyberspace. So I asked myself, “Would I do it again?”
The answer is simply, “Yes.”
This little blog is now read in over 25 countries. It truly is “Al” over the world. The responses from readers have been heart-warming and serve as a lifeline for me.
So welcome to our world.
Visit Jane's blog Dementia City.
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