Still feeling the turkey and stuffing bloat, yet hiding from
the claustrophobic, fight-to-survive Christmas shopping, I’m opting to warm up
to the end of the year by munching on left over apple pie and listening to
Christmas music with a pot of turkey noodle soup simmering in the background.
As December peeks round the bend I’m thinking back on
November, still counting my blessings. At the top of my list is family, but not
far behind is a small group of four people I’ve never met. Even though I’ve
never stood in their presence, touched their hands, or shared a hug, these four
people have become very important in my life. It’s amazing, with technology,
how we can come to know another and call them friend.
Last January, on what would have been my parents’ 67th
wedding anniversary. I published Alzheimer’s Daughter after I’d worked on it for four years. The story wouldn’t
leave me alone even though I’d tried to stop writing many times along the way.
It painfully whispered out of me, as though I was telling a friend about my
journey in hushed tones with tremoring hands over coffee. The manuscript would
wake me up in the night, talk to me as I was driving, grant me powerful phrases
when I was cooking, doing laundry or running errands. I joined a writing group
and a seasoned editor thought the story was worth telling. She helped make it
something that people might want to read. But even as I pushed the ‘publish’
button, I was afraid I might be struck by lightning for telling such a private
story.
Reviews started rolling in. I braced myself every time I saw
a new review. I was shocked because they were kind and compassionate, thanking
me for writing, for sharing a story that could help others.
In May, Marianne Sciucco, author of Blue Hydrangeas contacted me, saying she’d read Alzheimer’s Daughter and wondered if I’d like to collaborate
through June, Alzheimer’s Awareness Month. I told her I’d read a lovely book by
Vicki Tapia, Somebody Stole My Iron, and we asked her if she’d like to join us. Through collaboration,
we learned so much about reaching out to caregivers and others interested in
Alzheimer’s and dementia. We emailed nearly daily, and began using Google Plus
to live chat together.
We stayed in contact as the months ticked by and read
everything we could find written in a positive tone. We were struck by the
beauty of What Flowers Remember by Shannon Wiersbitzky and On Pluto by Greg O’Brien. They joined us for a November collaboration to
raise awareness for Memory Screening and Caregiver Appreciation Month.
Hopefully we’ve accomplished good for the cause of
Alzheimer’s and dementia, but on a personal level these people have become dear
friends to me. They are the people who share my story, know my journey and have
given me the courage to come out of the dark corner in which I hid, afraid to
speak about the personal disease which takes a toll on so many families. They’ve pushed
me to speak up, move the disease into the light, and help change the voice of
Alzheimer’s.
2 comments:
Thanks for writing this Jean, and I am also so grateful for you and all you've done to raise Alz awareness with your beautiful book and your tireless efforts. Here's to a long friendship!
Lovely, Jean. Thank you...and I feel the same about the 4 of you...it's nice to know that good things can arise from the ashes of Alzheimer's...
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