For many years, I thought about honoring my dad by doing something meaningful to help other families affected by Alzheimer’s disease. That opportunity came about ten years ago when I was asked to join the Alzheimer’s New Jersey® Board of Directors.
I take great pride in being associated with a New Jersey organization that does so much for families affected by this life-changing disease. I am inspired by the many stories of lives touched – for me, all in remembering my dad.
In the years before his diagnosis, my dad was perceived by peers and friends as forgetful — like the absent-minded professor — but in retrospect, it was likely an early sign of the disease.
It was Thanksgiving in 1982 when an Alzheimer’s diagnosis was announced. I remember that time vividly. My wife and I were expecting our first child Julie, and I had just become a partner at my law firm. A great deal was happening in my life all at once. At the time, there were no resources available to educate me about Alzheimer’s disease.
I understood only that my dad’s memory would decline. I was unprepared to watch the full impact of the decline that followed — the stages were so sad and painful to watch. I remember visiting dad one night when he began a sentence and, midway through, could no longer remember how it had started. That moment marked a new and heartbreaking level of deterioration. I realized that the person I loved was fading away.
My dad took great pride in his service in the U.S. Army during World War II. He served in North Africa, Sicily, the Italian campaign, and later in the Philippines when the Japanese surrender took place. As a child, he proudly and meticulously taught me how to click my heels and salute.
Eventually, my dad lived in a nursing home. I routinely brought my daughter Julie and my son Jeremy to visit him. After our visits, my dad would stand at a window down the hall from his room and wait as we walked to the car in the parking lot. He would click his heels and salute us goodbye. As time passed, however, he no longer remembered why he was standing there. Eventually, he stopped going to the window altogether. Even if I had not seen my dad for weeks, he would always greet me with warmth and affection, unaware how much time had passed since our last visit.
I am profoundly grateful that, up until his final breath, he always knew me. When I walked into the room, there was always a twinkle in his eye. Although his condition deteriorated and caused me great pain, I thought there might be some relief when he passed. Instead, I found that I missed that twinkle in his eye — and I still do. I remain deeply grateful that it was always there for me.
Alzheimer’s is truly a beholder’s disease — often felt more deeply by those who witness its effects on loved ones rather than by those who suffer from it directly. The emotional pain, grief and adjustment can weigh heavily on caregivers and family members.
Thanks to Alzheimer’s New Jersey®, there are so many resources now that were not available to me then — such as the Helpline, Family Support Groups and the Respite Care and Wellness Program — resources made possible only through donor generosity.
I am deeply thankful for our donors and volunteers and honored to count myself among
you, remembering my dad while working to help the many families in our state who continue to face Alzheimer’s disease. –
Bob Goldsmith
Vice Chair, Board of Director,
Alzheimer’s New Jersey®
