If one speaks
honestly about Alzheimer’s disease and its ravages, the details aren’t pretty.
Alzheimer’s changes personalities. During times of conflict, Mom and Dad drew
inward, to protect each other from what they perceived as any assault. Mom
fought to protect the man she’d loved all of her adult life––to defend his
independence and dignity. Dad protected Mom––love-struck by his bride until her
last breath.
In the midst of
difficult times, I often envisioned Alzheimer’s as a silent monster looming
behind Mom and Dad, inching closer and closer, threatening to over take them.
Ibby and Ed saw only each other. They never acknowledged nor succumbed to the
disease. They rose above it, protected by the armor of their love and faith in
God. Ann and I ran frantically ahead pulling them, or behind pushing
them––always trying to shield them from the invisible beast.
