Visit Often and Be Cool

One of the most tragic parts of being a primary caretaker of someone with Alzheimer's is the loss of your own life. Growing up my parents were always having parties or attending them. My mom had multiple groups of friends-the Public Health crew, investment club, Trivial Pursuit club, and my dad had his sports, Lulac, parties every weekend. They were popular and veritable socialites and truly loved by their friends. Over the past four or five years, I've watched their friends slowly fall off the Earth into a more comfortable abyss. See, this disease is difficult to deal with when you don't know how to handle it. If you can't handle a paranoid, 3 second memory span, shifty eyed, anxious man sitting next to your best friend while you talk about your life, you simply disappear cause its just easier that way. My mother would never dare discuss the details of her daily struggle, her inability to take a shower without fear of my father walking out the front door and running away, that's not the kind of person she is. She'll just put on her happy face and talk about the surface stuff, cause on the surface all is good. So that can't be the reason they disappear, she doesn't indulge any of them with her life. It's my dad, my crazy dad though no one will admit it, it is. They've lost their social life and most of their friends because of his disease. C'est la vie.
It's hard, it's uncomfortable, it's definitely not something you learn about in school or in life really, but it's a reality and one day someone you love will have Alzheimer's Disease. It is estimated that by 2050, there will be about 60 million people living with AD in the US alone (it's about 5 million now).
This damned disease takes your loved ones life away, but it also does a number on yours as well. We were supposed to go to Florida for my great nieces first Christmas. My momma broke her leg and decided not to go. Ten years ago, we could've gone, my dad could have driven her around. I was supposed to go, but how was I to leave her with a broken leg and a escape artist husband? So once again we miss out on life. Bah humbug.
I'm sorry for my somber tone, it's nearing 2012 and I'm writing to implore you to reach out. Crawl through the uneasiness and discomfort. One woman, my mom's best friend, is truly a blessing. She lived in El Paso for a long time and wasn't scared away by the situation, but moved to North Carolina for work. She and my momma Skype regularly and she's truly my moms saving grace. Thank you Vero, you're an angel. So when the day comes that you have a loved one with the wretched AD, make sure you visit often and be cool. It means the world to the caregiver that you still come around despite it all.