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My Day is Off to a Good Start


As I’ve said before, the most difficult part of the day for Kate is in the morning. She rarely speaks or smiles until later in the day. She is unable to explain, but it seems like she is unsure of where she is or who I am until later in the day. During the past two years or more, she has improved in several ways. One of those is waking up with a smile and saying a few words. That happened this morning.

I walked into our bedroom (Yes, we still sleep in the same bed.) about thirty minutes ago as she was opening her eyes. I spoke to her and told her how happy I was to see her. She smiled and said, “What are you doing?”

I told her I was coming to see her. Then I told her several things that I tell her every morning when I see that she is awake. “You’re my Kate from Waco, Texas. We met at Baylor where we were students. We fell in love and got married.” I go on to tell her that we’ve been married sixty-two years and that every year has been a happy year. Then I tell her about our children and grandchildren.

On a typical morning, she doesn’t display any recognition or enthusiasm for what I’ve told her. This morning was different. As I talked, she didn’t say a word; however, her smile showed that she understood what I was telling her and was delighted.

This follows another similar experience that happened one afternoon this past week when we went out for her daily ice cream. That, too, was an occasion when I spoke to her about our dating, marriage, and wonderful times we have had. In this case, she spoke as well as smiled to communicate her pleasure. I could not understand what she said, but it was clear that she enjoyed what I told her.

I can’t predict what the rest of the day will be like, but we are off to a great start, and it is quite possible we will share more “Happy Moments” together.

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“Little Things Mean A Lot”

In 1954, Kitty Kallen‘s “Little Things Mean a Lot” was number one on the charts, selling over 1 million copies. I was 14 at the time, and I don’t think I really understood the meaning and relevance of the song’s message. Now that I’m closing in on 86, it means much more to me.

Kate and I have lived well throughout our marriage. In fact, I’d say it’s been a joyful adventure. That was true even during the early stages of her Alzheimer’s. Early on, we decided to enjoy life and each other for as long as we were able. We did that by binging on all the things we had enjoyed before Alzheimer’s. That meant going to movies, theatrical and musical events, eating out, and traveling. During the first 10 years, we ate out for lunch and dinner more than 6000 times. We also attended many musical and theatrical events not only in Columbia, our hometown, but also in cities within a two-hour drive.

Travel also played an important role in our lives. We went on a safari in Tanzania, where we got a close look at lions, elephants, zebras, and other wild animals we had only seen in zoos. We swam with iguanas, turtles, and other marine life in the Galapagos Islands, and on our last international trip in 2015, we paraglided off a mountain in Switzerland where we turned a somersault on the way down.

Those days came to an end in 2020 after Kate had a traumatic experience during eight days in the hospital with COVID. She’s been in the last stage of Alzheimer’s ever since. Before that, our world was very large. Today, it is very small. Our biggest daily events are going downstairs for ice cream at 3:30 and having dinner at 4:30.

In addition, we have great times when we are alone. Sometimes that happens in the morning when she wakes up early and is in a talkative mood. More often, it happens at night. We talk while watching music videos on YouTube. Our biggest surprise is that while our world is much smaller now than in the early stages of the disease, we have found ways to live joyfully.

We’ve learned to enjoy the little things. Best of all is simply being together. Every morning when she wakes up, I remind her that our first date was to a performance of Handel’s “Messiah,” and that we enjoyed it, but being together was the highlight of the evening. That is still the case today. I often refer to those times as “Happy Moments”. We’ve had quite a few of those in the past week. One of those days, she woke up at 6:30 in the morning, cheerful and talkative. That continued until she went to sleep that night. The other days were not as spectacular, but they, too, were punctuated with Happy Moments. Kitty Kallen was right. “Little Things Mean A Lot”. My perspective has changed significantly since I first heard that song.

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“Little Things Mean A Lot

In 1954, Kitty Kallen‘s “Little Things Mean a Lot” was number one on the charts, selling over 1 million copies. I was 14 at the time, and I don’t think I really understood the meaning and relevance of the song’s message. Now that I’m closing in on 86, it means much more to me.

Kate and I have lived well throughout our marriage. In fact, I’d say it’s been a joyful adventure. That was true even during the early stages of her Alzheimer’s. Early on, we decided to enjoy life and each other for as long as we were able. We did that by binging on all the things we had enjoyed before Alzheimer’s. That meant going to movies, theatrical and musical events, eating out, and traveling. During the first 10 years, we ate out for lunch and dinner more than 6000 times. We also attended many musical and theatrical events not only in Columbia, our hometown, but also in cities within a two-hour drive.

Travel also played an important role in our lives. We went on a safari in Tanzania, where we got a close look at lions, elephants, zebras, and other wild animals we had only seen in zoos. We swam with iguanas, turtles, and other marine life in the Galapagos Islands, and on our last international trip in 2015, we paraglided off a mountain in Switzerland where we turned a somersault on the way down.

Those days came to an end in 2020 after Kate had a traumatic experience during eight days in the hospital with COVID. She’s been in the last stage of Alzheimer’s ever since. Before that, our world was very large. Today, it is very small. Our biggest daily events are going downstairs for ice cream at 3:30 and having dinner at 4:30.

In addition, we have great times when we are alone. Sometimes that happens in the morning when she wakes up early and is in a talkative mood. More often, it happens at night. We talk while watching music videos on YouTube. Our biggest surprise is that while our world is much smaller now than in the early stages of the disease, we have found ways to live joyfully.

We’ve learned to enjoy the little things. Best of all is simply being together. Every morning when she wakes up, I remind her that our first date was to a performance of Handel’s “Messiah,” and that we enjoyed it, but being together was the highlight of the evening. That is still the case today. I often refer to those times as “Happy Moments”. We’ve had quite a few of those in the past week. One of those days, she woke up at 6:30 in the morning, cheerful and talkative. That continued until she went to sleep that night. The other days were not as spectacular, but they, too, were punctuated with Happy Moments. Kitty Kallen was right. “Little Things Mean A Lot”. My perspective has changed significantly since I first heard that song.

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Another Anniversary

Sarah and I celebrate another anniversary today. No, it’s not our wedding anniversary. That comes up in May. It’s not the anniversary of our first date. We celebrated that in December. The one we celebrate today is the fifteenth anniversary of Sarah’s diagnosis with Alzheimer’s.

We aren’t celebrating the fact that she got the diagnosis. It’s the fact that although our lives have changed dramatically since then, we are still enjoying life and each other. From the start, that was our goal, but we never imagined that we would be able to say that fifteen years later. We were simply doing the best we could as she was losing her memory. Along with that came her inability to do many of the things she had done before.

I am copying below my blog post on the first anniversary of her diagnosis. It deals with the changes that were occurring at that time.

January 21, 2012 by Richard Creighton

One Year Since Diagnosis

One year ago today, we met with Dr. Reasoner to receive the news that Kate’s results showed she has AD. During that year I have noted apparent declines in her memory, sometimes not quite sure whether the changes were real or not because they can be so subtle and similar to what we all do. At this point, there is no doubt that she has declined in a perceptible way.

A week ago last night we got back from our trip to Africa (Tanzania) with OAT. It was a great trip that we both enjoyed far more than anticipated. On the other hand, I felt as though I had to be watching and helping her every step of the way. I am having to assume more and more responsibility for everything.

She continues to get along well in normal interactions with people. I don’t think anyone on the trip would suspect her condition. Neither do I think our children or close friends suspect. I do sometimes wonder about her best friend, because she and Kate have had so many opportunities to talk and socialize together.

The most distressing thing to me is that Kate is so frustrated over her inability to do many things that she would have been able to do before. In the last 2 days she has commented that it’s the little things that bother her the most. From my perspective that would include things like remembering how to charge her cell phone or how to deal with a technician on the help line. She has great difficulty following a set of instructions. They simply overwhelm her. In our personal conversations when she indicates a problem and I automatically try to explain, she stops me because she can’tunderstand.

The whole situation makes me recall times when I hear people say something like, “Well, at least she doesn’t know.” I heard this when my mother was in the early stages. Kate is keenly aware that her memory is declining. She sees how much of her time is spent looking for simple things like car keys, her purse, etc.

It has gotten so bad that I feel I can’t depend on her to do anything. I either have to do it myself, or follow her to see that it is done. While on the trip, she picked out a bag to bring back to Doris. We bought it along with a couple of other things. Then after eating lunch (this was in our lodge) she went back into the gift shop. I saw her looking at the bags again and asked what she was looking for. She told me she was looking for a bag for Doris. She had not remembered buying the first one only 45 minutes to an hour earlier.

She is clearly discouraged. She is not sleeping well. I am not sure, however, how much is a result of jet lag and how much is anxiety over her condition. I think it is some combination of both.

Over the past year, I have cited specific instances of her memory failure. I suspect I may do less of that as so much occurs that I can’t recall the instances without writing things down at the time, and I find that impossible.

We enjoyed the Africa trip so much and are looking at possible trips to New Zealand, the Galapagos, Russia, and China. I fear, however, that our travels may be heavily influenced by her condition. Right now, for example, I am thinking of taking an OAT trip to New Zealand next January (2013), but I wonder whether or not that will be a good idea. I do believe we could do a cruise, but half of the time is spent on the water. I will wait until later in the year to see how things are going. I need to be honest about my own anxieties. This is a very trying time for me. My business is so bad that I had to let Regina go before Christmas. She had been with me for 28 years. Now I am wondering how long I can keep the doors open. Dad requires attention. This week he spent 2 days in the hospital. I am spending less time in the office. I need to spend more time with Kate. It is a difficult time. I am not sleeping as well as I used to.