Alzheimer's As A Second Language

Dear Editor,

I am writing in response to the New York Times article “New Drug Trial Seeks to Stop Alzheimer’s Before it Starts”.  This disease that causes a degenerative effect on the brain distresses many people globally.  Could you imagine the looks in your loved ones eyes when they discuss what will happen to you when the Alzheimer’s kicks in?  Can you imagine being told you could no longer drive your car, a privilege that you worked hard to obtain so many years ago?  Unfortunately, there are 5.4 million people that live with this disease, and many more that the possibility haunts them due to genetics. 
I personally have experienced this when my Grandpa was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s when I was fifteen years old.  What could this mean? Would Grandpa not remember me?  Would his awesome personality change? Would Grandma be okay with this?  To a fifteen year old, these are scary thoughts that are pushed to the back of my brain.  However, when Grandpa’s mind started to drift when I was a junior at John Carroll University and he had a near-death experience, the reality became quite clear.  My time with him was limited. 
To a 76 year old this diagnosis means fear.  Will I remember my love for the simple things in life?  Watching my grandkids swing in my hammock in my South Euclid backyard, listening to the poems my wife has written her whole life, taking walks around the Belvoir block to Mayfield, Green Roads and back, or laughing with my kids, siblings, nieces, and nephews about the good ‘ole days. 
Now, 25 years old, and without one of my “best friends” as Grandma wrote a poem entitled so, I decided it is time to take a stance.  An old professor suggested I get involved with the Alzheimer’s Association, an organization with a mission “to eliminate Alzheimer’s disease through the advancement of research; to provide and enhance care and support all affected; and to reduce the risk of dementia through the promotion of brain health.”  After some emails, I discovered BvB Cleveland sponsored by the Alzheimer’s Association, or the “blondes vs. brunettes” powder-puff football game designed to raise money to help fight this disease and find a cure.  It already has raised $1.5 million for the cause nationally.  The event will occur on June 16 and is promised to be entertaining and exciting for all ages.
My family was lucky enough to have Grandpa Sonny around until he was 86 years old.  My Uncle and I both wrote speeches to read at his wake, which I would like to share a few excerpts from my uncle’s first: 
“During the Depression in 1926 in the small town of Holy Cross, Kentucky my Dad was born.  His childhood nickname that followed him through life was “Sonny.”  He was the 2nd oldest of 6 kids born.  The family lived on a farm with no plumbing, no electricity, and only a gas stove to warm their home.  Jobs were scarce in Kentucky, so their father decided to move to Collinwood, OH for a better life.
In 1944, Sonny was drafted to serve his country in World War 2.  When he returned home in 1947, he met the 15 year old who would eventually become his wife close to 60 years.  In 1952, my mother’s dream came true and they did indeed marry.  They moved onto her father’s street in Cleveland. 
In 1953 he landed a job with the Shaker Rapid.  He worked as a motorman operator and soon recruited his brothers Bot and Tommy to work by his side.  Eventually, Tommy left the rapid for a career in computers and moved to Georgia.  His brother, Bot, worked by his side close to 27 years, and in 2005 Bot passed away.  When asked about how he felt about his passing, Sonny replied, “I lost my best friend.”
During his work years and while helping raise his three children, Sonny made time for everyone.  his rapid buddies became a second family to Sonny, and he often had them over for “Sonny’s Spaghetti” dinners.  He’d also have them over to make homemade sauerkraut.  He worked split shifts so that afforded him more time to spend with his own children.  He would take his beloved nephew and nieces to the Metroparks and sled riding.  In 1983 Sonny retired from the RTA Rapid after 30 years of devoted service. In his retirement he enjoyed to the fullest his six grandchildren.  He was also able to spend more quality time with his sisters, otherwise known as the “talking heads,” their husbands, and his brother Bot and his wife.”
My childhood on Rushton Road with Grandpa and Grandma is one that will be cherished always.  I would like to share an excerpt of my speech during Grandpa’s later years when the Alzheimer’s kicked in.
“As I grew up, Grandpa grew older, and all of a sudden I was taking care of him, not because I was told to but because I wanted to.  When I transferred to JCU after my party days ‘were over,’ it was Rushton Road that gave me a sense of stability, and a sense of this is who I am.  I would clean for my grandparents.  Let’s face it I cleaned for Grandma; Grandpa just sat in his tan recliner loving his retired life, drinking his black coffee out of his amish mug. 
I would drive them to lunch, which at first Grandpa didn’t love.  The guy wanted to be the rock for his family, but I like to think Grandpa let me drive because he was proud of me and loved me, and wanted to see me grow up.  As he grew older it was the simple things that made him happy: his walks through South Euclid with that infamous hat I would always make fun of him for, sitting in his recliner looking out the front window for any little activity on Rushton Road, feeding his stray cat pal Boris and accidentally letting him in the house one time, his red Christmas vest at the family Christmas party, and his role as (one of) the best Grandpa’s in the world. 
Years passed and I held on to those childhood memories as I went through all my growing pains.  I watched as the proud granddaughter as Grandpa pushed the five younger grandkids in the wheelbarrow, swung them on the hammock or in his hand-made swing, and clapped and laughed with the boys as they danced around. I watched smiling, because I never wanted to let go of the memories that I had with him.  Grandpa reached the end of a life that I can only dream of having – an ever-loving and compassionate wife, three wonderful children who found three loving spouses that all have the family values that were passed down to them, and six grandchildren who will forever tell the memories and stories that have been told throughout the years. 
My last days with Grandpa were spent at the nursing home with me holding his hands, helping him drink his water, and telling him everything is going to be alright. It was my way of expressing the gratitude I have for my childhood memories with him and my amazing mom that he raised.  As I say good bye to Grandpa, in a way I say goodbye to my childhood, and I like to think that the peace I have in letting go of it to move toward my future, is the peace Grandpa feels as he joins God in Heaven.”
In my fondest memories with Grandpa, I am dancing with him at his last birthday we recently celebrated and looking at the joy in my family’s eyes that he was able to take a trip out of the nursing home.  I am writing to create awareness about the disease, and to help find a cure.  As such, please help me in achieving my goal of raising $250 for the BvB Cleveland event!