My mother, sister and I lost our husband and father seven long years before he died. He was an intelligent, thoughtful, shy and loving man who fortunately remained kind until the end.
With his onset of Alzheimer's, I felt I lost my confidant and closest friend. I miss him to this day- 36 years later.

Kris Martin, Family member

Vienna, VA

Anonymous, Family member

Silver Spring, MD

Anonymous, Family member

Phoenix, AZ

To see the fear in my Mother's eyes when she understood what changes were happening. To watch my Mother cry and that she can't be that person. She never wanted to forget all her babies.

Roberta, A professional treating people living with Alzheimer’s

Gaithersburg, MD

When you've witnessed the slipping away of an intelligent, witty, and charismatic person, it feels as if they have been robbed. The whole family and their friends feel robbed, robbed of time with them and of memories yet to come. Like many robberies, it is random and cruel and senseless. Everyone suffers.

Lori, A family member of someone who had Alzheimer’s

Westport, CT

In my own experiences having a loved one with dementia, and in taking care of patients with dementia and their families as a nurse, "tough" is the word that comes to mind. It's tough to watch someone you love not remember core things about themselves. It's tough to watch others experience the same thing. Managing the behaviors while also preserving dignity - tough.

Kelly, Family member, Professional treating people living with Alzheimer’s

Chicago, IL

It is a profound sadness to see a loved one lose their precious memories & connections to all that they have been in this world & to all those who know & love them. It is beyond "the long goodbye" as we see our loved one lose their connection, brilliance & faculties. It is cruel, indeed, but it is still so hard to say goodbye!

Rosemary Tiernan, We have gone down this road with family members & dear friends. The caregivers are a breed apart. Angels in this world.

Bethesda, MD

My husband has mild cognitive decline and I feel such a loss for the person he was five years ago, and for the relationship we have had. I miss him. I can only imagine what it is like to see someone slip away so profoundly with this terrible disease.

Connie, Caregiver for my husband, who has cognitive decline

Bethesda, MD

It seems that the disease is ever shifting. Once you get settled with the behaviors/changes in personality of your loved one it changes again and you have to find a new normal.

Anonymous, Family member, Caregiver

Gaithersburg, MD

Living life alongside a loved one with Alzheimer's means experiencing parts of the grief cycle all day, every day for as long as your loved one lives. There is so much sadness, anger, confusion, exhaustion, and hopelessness that you must learn to balance with the happy parts of life in order to prevent completely losing yourself.

Anonymous, Family member

Elkridge, MD

Heartbreaking — because watching someone you care about slowly slip away in pieces is a unique kind of grief. You lose them not all at once, but moment by moment: a forgotten name, a confused expression, a story they once told with pride now lost to the fog.

It’s heartbreaking because the person you knew is still right there, and yet not fully there. You see flashes of who they were — a smile, a gesture, a familiar tone — and those moments feel precious and painful at the same time.

It’s heartbreaking because you’re not just mourning what’s gone, but fighting to treasure what remains. You learn to hold onto the small victories, to love them without expecting them to remember, and to steady yourself through the quiet sadness of being recognised less and less.

And yet, despite the heartbreak, there’s also love — deeper, quieter, more patient — the kind that carries you through the hardest parts.

Trevor Saldanha, Family member

Melbourne, Australia

… a deep sense of helplessness… a quiet ache in knowing we cannot stop the fading of memories. Yet in that helplessness, we also learn something profound about love. We learn to sit with someone in their changing world, to meet them where they are, and to treasure the small, fleeting moments of connection. It reminds us that presence is sometimes the only gift we can offer, and often, it is enough…

Anonymous, Friend

Melbourne, Australia

My father disappeared into a world of anxiety, confusion, and frequent terror as dementia overtook him. Accepting that he was gone was always hard, but most heart-wrenching when sparks of his enthusiasm for life shone out. "Are you the Queen of England?" he asked?" "I used to love chemistry. Why have I forgotten?" And pulling himself upright in his chair with a smile, "Where are we going to go today?" Then his fears of poverty, car accidents, cruel headmistresses, and German bombs would overtake him again—with no way for me to reach into his sad new world.

Pamela, Daughter, lost my father to non-Alzheimer's dementia

Arlington, VA

She has been robbed of the pleasure of enjoying the family she worked so hard to build. Her lessons about LOVE, however, are instilled in the hearts of her children and grandchildren.

Martha, Family member

Rockville, MD

Lewy Body Dementia, a form of Alzheimer’s, left me with a profound sense of defeat. My mother lived with it for more than 12 years, and we fought it with everything we had, but the disease kept taking—slowly, unpredictably, and relentlessly—until there was nothing left to take. What people don’t see is the quiet grief that begins long before the end: the small losses, the confusion, the moments when recognition fades. The best advice I received was to meet her where she was each day. It didn’t change the outcome, but it gave us small, meaningful moments of connection.

Anonymous, Family member

Gaithersburg, MD

Mentally draining for friends and family.
Physically draining for care givers.
Financially draining for the patient.

Anonymous, Family member

Silver Spring MD

You have a vision for your life and it doesn't include losing yourself, your partner, your parent while the body lives on.

Anonymous, Family member, Caregiver

South Portland, ME

Watching someone go through this treacherous deterioration is heart wrenching and makes one feel helpless.

Anonymous, Family member

Reno, NV