Changes |

May 21, 2026May 25, 2026

What Kate and I Did After Her Diagnosis: Part 4. Everything Changes

I’m not a Buddhist, but I know that one of the fundamental tenets is the “impermanence” of everything. Nothing stays the same. All of us experience that, but “Living with Alzheimer’s” has given me a greater appreciation of impermanence than I had before.

During the first nine years of our journey, we were able to live happily, but we couldn’t prevent the kind of changes that Alzheimer’s brings with it. Each one has made our world a little smaller than when we began.

In addition to the activities we enjoyed together, Kate had her own activities that were important to her. They included use of her computer, driving her car, tending to her plants around our yard, activities with her P.E.O. chapter, as well as weekly lunches and shopping excursions with her dear friend Arletta Raley. She lost all of these things during the first eight years after her diagnosis.

We also lost several things that had been important to both of us. One of those was movies. With the progression of her Alzheimer’s, she became less able to follow movies. The last two we saw were close together in 2018, seven years after the diagnosis. That same year, we dropped weekly performances of the “Live in HD at the Met” operas in one of our local movie theaters.

Travel also became more difficult. Our last international trip was in 2015. In 2018, we made our last trips to visit our children.

The worst was yet to come; however, I will save that until next time.

May 12, 2026May 25, 2026

What We Did After Kate’s Diagnosis: Part 3, Travel

Travel had been an important part of our lives from the early years of our marriage. When our children were 4 and 2, we took them to Spain and France for six weeks. Three years later, we took them with us to Colombia, South America for the summer. While there, we took trips to Ecuador and Venezuela. When we became empty nesters, we began to travel more, mostly in Europe.

One of the first things we thought we were likely to lose was our ability to travel. In particular, we had wanted to visit Africa, Machu Picchu, the Galápagos Islands, New Zealand, and Switzerland. We were successful in getting to all of them. We engaged in a number of activities we had wanted to experience. We took a safari in Tanzania, took a balloon ride over the Serengeti, paraglided off a mountain slope in Switzerland and somersaulted on the way to the ground.

Travel was becoming more difficult for Sarah, so Switzerland was our last international trip. Two years later, we took our last trip to Chautauqua, NY, our favorite summer getaway.

In 2018, we took our last trips to visit our children and grandchildren. Since then, they have traveled to see us, but we were able to do international travel for four years after her diagnosis and travel in the US for an additional three years.

April 29, 2026May 25, 2026

More Happy Moments at Stage 7 Alzheimer’s

At this late stage of Kate’s Alzheimer’s, I am mindful that our Happy Moments may decline. Thus far, however, we continue to experience them. Yesterday, we had an especially good one.

Our caregiver had a meeting with her agency at the same time we normally go downstairs to the café for ice cream, so Kate and I went by ourselves. Prior to leaving, she wasn’t in one of her cheerful moments and wasn’t talking. I keep a variety of things on the coffee table in our living area that the caregivers and I often read to her.

I picked up a three-ring binder where I have collected a lot of different things about our lives together. I read her something I had written about our dating, falling in love, and getting married. As I read, she began to perk up. By the time we left for the café, she was smiling. While we were at the café, we had an special Happy Moment. We were alone most of the time. She was very relaxed, and we had a conversation that lasted almost an hour.

I didn’t take the attached video yesterday. I took it ten days ago, but it gives you an idea of what our conversations are like at this stage of her Alzheimer’s. The fact that I can’t understand her doesn’t keep me from loving these moments. I treasure them.

April 7, 2026April 7, 2026

Kate’s Alzheimer’s Diagnosis and Our Thoughts About the Future

For months, I’ve reported on positive changes in Kate’s behavior. She is better now than she was two or three years ago. This doesn’t mean that we have found a way to cure Alzheimer’s, but even at Stage 7, we have found ways to live joyfully.

Occasionally, people ask me how we’ve been able to live so well. I’ve given that a lot of thought and would like to share those thoughts in several upcoming posts.

Today, I’ll focus on our immediate response to Kate’s diagnosis. It was January 21, 2011, exactly one week after she turned seventy. Although we had seen the first signs of dementia more than five years before, the reality of the diagnosis frightened us. Our marriage had been filled with joy, and we were afraid that Alzheimer’s would make that a thing of the past.

We went directly from the doctor’s office to Villa Tronco, a favorite restaurant of ours. We began a conversation that continued for several weeks, perhaps months. We had been caring for our four parents (and my dad’s girlfriend after my mother died) for twenty-two consecutive years. We were aware of the many challenges we were likely to face. Now, it was time to focus on our own future.

We spent much of our time discussing how each of us felt and the first steps we should take. We talked about when to tell our children and our friends. We considered the practical issues, such as legal and financial decisions.

We reflected on the things we had enjoyed during our marriage and wondered how long we could continue living so well. We had no idea but made a decision that worked then and now. We would just enjoy life and each other for as long as we could. I’ll have more to say about this in following posts.

March 4, 2026March 17, 2026

Six Consecutive Days With Especially “Happy Moments”

Kate has been improving steadily for more than two years. The basic symptoms of Alzheimer’s haven’t disappeared, but she’s more cheerful and talkative. Thus, we have more “Happy Moments” than in the past. She seems less like someone with Alzheimer’s than she did before.

That has been especially true, for the past six days. They have been remarkably good days. On each of these days, she has waked up with a smile and appeared to know me. During the rest of these days, she has smiled and talked a lot. The rest of the day has been similar. She seems less like someone with Alzheimer’s than she did before.

Monday was a good example. After lunch, I read The Velveteen Rabbit to her, something I hadn’t done in a while because she seemed to have lost interest or was less able to follow the story. This time,. That occurred after her bout with COVID. Yesterday she expressed her pleasure with facial and verbal expressions. She clearly understood and enjoyed what I read.

That was followed by an especially good time when we went out for ice cream that afternoon. The people who drop by regularly to see her smile and talk got what they were looking for. That doesn’t happen most of the time, and I’m wondering just how long this will go on. Right now, I’m enjoying every minute and feeling grateful.

February 21, 2026February 22, 2026

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.

February 16, 2026February 16, 2026

“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.

February 11, 2026February 16, 2026

“Little Things Mean A Lot

January 21, 2026February 11, 2026

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.