Burial at Berry….
It was as still as could be in Berry Cemetery (yes, someone knew that name would get a reaction), off a dirt road in Denmark, Maine, where I’d gone this past Saturday, in June, to be part of the funeral assembly for my latest cousin who’d gone the route of Alzheimer’s.
The sound of the wind and the buzzing of wild-flight dragonflies were the only musical accompaniment. Her plain wooden box –her final resting chamber– was positioned in front of those of us who sat in the front row of cloth-covered metal chairs. It was a lovely non-sectarian ceremony where the funeral director gave appropriate religious readings and a few friends offered observations, while one woman read out a poem.
Lee was 81 years of age, a definite eccentric, one who lived alone for many years in her home in that small community, alone except for a cat long since deceased who’d had AIDS. Not being a cat lover and having almost no knowledge of the feline breed, I admit to being fearful the cat would scratch me on the occasion of my one visit. I worried I’d become victim of the dread disease. She also had 2 alpacas, long before they became a favorite exotic animal for some. I don’t believe she harvested their wool but I’m not really sure.
As stated, Lee had Alzheimer’s—the disease that’s like a bullet train through my family, devastating almost all of us in its wake.
It felled my father, at age 82, my two brothers, at 82 and 79, respectively, a cousin who succumbed to early onset Alzheimer’s by age 61 and the cousin I mentioned above. There are newer troubling signs, too, in other relatives, and the next generation is worried, indeed, that they’ll be on the hit list.
And then there’s my husband who has had it for over 10 years. But, he’s not a genetic connection: He’s not a Kelly.
Yesterday, in the pounding rain, I drove home from Maine, depressed at the reality of this disease preying on my family. Most suffered for a few years or more before they succumbed which is why I will be tested, soon, to see if the plaques (a sign of Alzheimer’s) are mounting in my brain…to see if I should begin a drug regimen targeting those plaques, in a sort of “cut it off at the Pass” scenario.
Lequembi is the only drug now fully approved for early Alzheimer’s, but it must be used early in the process, before the damage is irreversible. I’ll be tested and evaluated.
I’m not anxious to start this process. There are side effects. But with the reality of so many of my relatives being affected, I will probably do it.
On one of the first pages of my book, “Az and Me: A Partner’s Journey with Alzheimer’s,” I quote Alan Grindal, a neurologist from Sarasota, Florida, who predicts that by 2050, half of us will have Alzheimer’s and the other half will be caring for those.
Do yourselves a favor: Read my book. At some point in your life, if the statistics bear out, you will probably become a caregiver. This book will help you in a journey that many of you will take. I’ve been told that my book is an easy, enjoyable read. A quick read. And there’s actually humor because I always try for the positive—no matter the circumstances.
Here’s the link to “Az and Me” A Partner’s Journey with Alzheimer’s.”
