Gregory, For you. Love Michael

Today, in the car on the way home from a little "being out with strangers" for the day before Christmas Eve, I listened to this song by Tracy Chapman.

Of course it made me think of Gregory and today's grief. Suddenly without much effort, I pictured some of our first encounters after we first meet almost 41 years ago, January 10th.

I close my eyes and clearly picture his study, upstairs in the house at Riverwoods Forest Preserve, where his wife was director of the Lake County Forest Preserve Edward L. Ryerson Conservation Area which included the original house, working farm, and its many acred grounds.

I remember driving up the narrow path through the woods, sometimes at night through the pitch black except for my car's headlights on high, when finally the house would come into view. It was a long, low federal style house and while the Ryerson's were a wealthy family who made their fortunes in steel, the house while substantial was not showy.

Gregory and Barbara, his wife of then seven years, lived upstairs. She married him knowing he was bi-sexual and his first lover Peter lived in Boston. Gregory was lonely for male company and we met at the "Men's Gathering" a sensitivity and encounter group for men of all persuasions to share, unload, and find support.

In those first months of knowing each other I would visit and have dinner with Gregory and Barbara and after dinner he and I would retire to his study for some alone time. Barbara was very understanding and cooperative in the beginning.

I see and feel his grand piano, a red oriental rug in the center of the room, the mahogany with bronze tipped legs desk, a wooden office chair on wheels, several double door closets with doors removed and filled with shelves loaded with books.

I remember the quiet times we spent together without words, or chatting about this or that, or exchanging back rubs, or dozing off in each other's arms all the while with classical Chopin, Beethoven, Bach, or Mozart playing in the background. We would sip Celestial Seasons herbal teas. I have Gregory to thank for introducing me to the classical composers and to herbal tea.

The joy of this experience today in the car is that my emotions were as out of control with love for him then as they are out of control with love for and my missing him now. I am grateful for having had his love for so many years. I will never be the same nor would I want to be.

I can just as easily feel the joy and excitement of our newly beginning love as I can feel the stability and support it became to the final easy for him but difficult for me goodbye.

If my great feelings of grief were not as strong as they are now, what would that say about our love then?



For You
By: Tracey Chapman

Ther're no words to say
No words to convey
This feeling inside I have for you
Deep in my heart
Safe from the guards
Of intellect and reason
Leaving me at a loss
For words to express my feelings
Deep in my heart

Look at me losing control
Thinking I had a hold
But with feelings this strong
I'm no longer the master
Of my emotions

Read more: http://artists.letssingit.com/tracy-chapman-lyrics-for-you-ctv2wc7#ixzz3vC2UQ1NX 
LetsSingIt - Your favorite Music Community 

Merry Christmas

The papier-mâché nativity was made by Gregory when he was 11 years old. His creativity and the detail is amazing. His mother saved and displayed it through his growing up, high school, and college years and gave it back to us a long time ago. Each year it has held a place of honor in the condo. This year it did not make an appearance for the obvious reason but I am pleased to see it here!

The Best Christmas Gift Ever

Gregory and I always exchanged Christmas gifts. He would make sure to buy a few gifts for me but mostly our agreement was that I would buy him gifts and I would by him gifts to give to me. He liked this arrangement and so did I.

So while Christmas gifts were always fun, we were able to get what we wanted when we wanted, so sometimes we allowed the gifts at Christmas time to be a little more extravagant than usual but they were never too surprising. We just didn't do it that way.

Probably the most wonderful gift I ever received was this year from God-Son Isaac. He supported me through Gregory's illness serendipitously having moved in for a brief while just before Gregory began the process of dying.

He came to Lieberman with me every day until Gregory passed and supported me through my initial grieving and through the two memorial events; one at the condo and one at Lieberman.

Isaac lived here in the condo with me for three months and recently moved into his own apartment. Over time, he has become not only the son of dear friends, and my God-Son, but also a friend, confidant, and just good buddy!

When we were cleaning out Gregory's room, I left most things behind for other needy residents or to be sold to employees at a good price with the money going to Lieberman. Isaac asked if he could take a shirt of Gregory's and I said yes. I assumed he wanted a keepsake.

A few nights ago, Isaac and I exchanged Christmas gifts. Turns out that Isaac had selected a shirt (unbeknownst to him) that used to be mine and a favorite. When I outgrew it, it became a favorite of Gregory's as well.

Isaac had taken the "twice favorite" shirt and made it into a pillow for my Christmas gift as a memento for me to hug when I felt sad and by which to remember Gregory.

When I first opened it, I didn't realize the above significance. I thought it was lovely and that it would go nicely with the new chair in my bedroom. Then he had me look at the accompanying card again and I realized the significance of the gift. Turns out the pillow was in effect the "twice favorite" shirt and that Gregory, in the photo on the card, was wearing the shirt during this year's Gay Pride weekend.

Obviously I was totally moved and cried at how thoughtful Isaac's gift was  and also at what a meaningful, beautiful memory it was for me.

One does not realize what one will appreciate while going through the process of losing someone who is loved so much. Isaac intuited exactly what is probably the most wonderful Christmas gift I have ever received!

Gregory wearing the "twice favorite" shirt last June during Gay Pride.

Isaac had the photograph turned into a gift card

The twice favorite shirt was made into this pillow.

Surprises

Received this from the social worker on the Memory Care Unit at Lieberman where Gregory lived for 18 months. When he died, we left most of the items in his room behind for others to enjoy. The plants were shared. The furniture was either given to other needing residents or sold to employees at a greatly discounted price, the money of which went to Lieberman. Some of his "stuff" went to the Life Enrichment Department and the Art Room.

Do you recognize this cactus?  When I put it in my office in October I had no idea there was such a beautiful surprise in store!  I look forward each day to coming into work to see if any more flowers have bloomed.  It is a wonderful reminder of two special people. H

Past, Present, Future

You've heard that old saw, "There is only now. The past is gone. The future is not yet here. All you really have is today!" I do not mean to diminish the message as I do believe that being in the here and now is very important and all we really have, but ...

During the last two years of Gregory's life, we both really learned more about being in the now. His greatly diminished world at Lieberman was all he had and I believe that he really enjoyed not having to make decisions, the lack of stress, no pressure to perform, and no need to remember. In many ways he had always taken things as they came, didn't worry too much, and had confidence in himself that he would find the way when things got off target or lost but now his life was greatly simplified.

I learned not to spend too much time in the past and to really enjoy our time together at Lieberman as it unfolded. Again, how we spent our time together was diminished but for the most part, when I was able to accept the now, I was able to be in the moment without needing to regret the past or plan for the future.

Now that Gregory is no longer with me, at least physically, all I have of our love and relationship is the past and my memories of the past. Many of these memories are thankfully triggered by photographs. In fact as I have continued to clean out, rearrange, freshen and "re-claim" the condo for myself, I have been coming across more photographs of our time together.

The photographs represent vacations, family events, celebrations, holidays, and sometimes just posing in love. I have scanned some of these early, 36mm photos and am posting them here.

Of course I have  a now and I will have a future. I am not putting too much pressure on myself to discover there future right now but rather to just let it unfold as it chooses. My future is based on all who I have been and all that I currently am and I hope that as I arrive at who I will be, that it is (as Gregory and I are found of saying)"More Than Ever."

2635 Poplar, Evanston

 On brother Mark's boat

 In Roscoe, Chicago apartment

 At Mark & Diane's home in Goldwater, MI

Christmas with Mark & Diane and family in Goldwater, MI

In apartment on Roscoe Avenue in Chicago

2643 Poplar in Evanston

We built a Jewish holiday "Sukkoth" at 2643 Poplar in Evanston

2635 Poplar, Evasnton

Vacation in Jamaica

2643 Poplar, Evanston

Goldwater, Mi at Mark & Diane's 

Chicago Botanic Garden

Happy Thanksgiving

Circa late 1990's at 2645 Poplar Avenue, Evanston, Illinois

Being Able to Remember

My days are fairly busy. After visiting Gregory almost every day for almost two years, my life away from him re-established itself.

I would spend an hour or two or three and then leave to continue my life.

I would go home, have dinner, watch some television, go to bed, read, cry, and think about him.

Or I would go out to dinner with friends, or go to the opera, or see some theater and then come home, go to bed, read, cry, and think about him.

Or I would run errands, clean up around the condo, go grocery shopping, cook dinner, take a shower, go to bed, read, cry, and think about him.

Or I would move things around in the condo, crate new spaces since I was the only one living here, make decisions on painting the walls with color in what has been an off-white condo, think about getting rid of the bedroom and guest room carpeting and having wood floors installed, go to bed, read, cry, and think about him.

Either way, I developed a life living on my own, without him except for those few hours almost every day.

Then one day, he died. It took four days, and although peaceful for him and traumatic for me, I have coped. I had prayed "Sooner rather than later!" And my prayers were answered. Now even those one, two, or three hours; almost every day, are mine to re-establish. 

Death makes no sense. When one looks at it closely, it fades into a surreal non-reality. After he died, my days were pretty much the same. Condo, Opera, Theater, Food, Friends, Read, go to bed, cry.

But the knowledge that he was no longer living at Lieberman crept in now and then and I would be overwhelmed with emotion. I felt like I would die myself if I gave in totally to the emotions so I only entertained them for brief periods of time.

I could not think of our times together and our memories as that would overwhelm me. I could not think of favorite jokes or sayings as that would overwhelm me. I could not picture him dead in his bed at Lieberman as I held his hand said my final goodbyes as that would overwhelm me. 

Slowly I have been able to remember. I have been able to look at photographs of our vacations and adventures. I could look at photos of him enjoying his diminished life at Lieberman as well as photos of us together enjoying our diminished life together.

Now, one short month and a half after his death, I am feeling much better although I have my "down" days, and still cry (sometimes when waking and sometimes when going to sleep) and expect that will continue for a long time to come. It may get less painful but the pain will never go away.

I get frightened when I think that he is never coming back and that I will be alone until I get old and die. I get frightened when I wonder who and what I will be in the years I have left. I think I hear him talking to me in my mind and I answer. I talk to him and I think he hears me talking in his now part of the universe mind. 

I continue to change the condo, I have been beginning to think of travels and things I would like to do with my life. 

I am excited about sharing the documentary with family and friends over the next months: ALZHEIMER's: A Love Story.

I am excited about the More Than Ever Education Fund and the meetings, and luncheons, and interviews, and fund raisers etc that Casa Norte is planning on behalf of the fund. The More Than Ever Education Fund, founded by Gregory L. Maire and Michael A. Horvich. That sounds great to me!

I am excited about beginning to work on my memoirs again and the potential of getting it published as a way to show others, especially same-sex couples, that they are not alone in this work against Dementia/Alzheimer's.

I am excited again about the possibility of producing and presenting "Michael's Flea Circus" with the actors, props, and circus acts in place and the program and acting needing to be rehearsed.

Recently I have begun reminding me of my prayers, "Sooner rather than later. " And I am grateful that Alzheimer's is no longer part of Gregory's or my "game."

I remind myself that the Gregory I met some 40+ years ago does in fact live on in my mind but the person who died was not that Gregory.

I remind myself that the Gregory with whom I spent most of my younger adult and middle age life, with whom I grew (with his support) into the person I am today does in fact live on in my mind but the person who died was not that Gregory.

I remind myself that the Gregory with whom I traveled the world, had many adventures, took many risks like "Michael's Museum," with whom I purchased my first and second houses and now this condo does live on in my mind but the person who died is not that Gregory.

So I am slowly being able to let the memories of our wonderful life together revisit me without being overwhelmed by emotion. I am able to understand that the Gregory who died had spent well, even with the diagnosis of Alzheimer's, the last many years of his life and that his spirit and soul were never dampened. So with dignity, compassion, patience, and love he was ready to move on to his next adventure, the kind of adventure on which you cannot take your best friend, your love, your life partner, your soul mate. So he left me behind until it is my turn. 

And I will make the best of these years so he will be proud of me and say, "Michael, I helped you be more of who you already were and now you must continue to do that, not with my help but in my memory. You are on your own but I will always live on in your memories, in your mind, in your heart!

A Recent Memory E-Mail

Dear Michael,

I'm not sure you will remember me, BUT... Gary and I were your guests for dinner one wonderful evening years ago. We were Greg's clients.  Strange, but I have been thinking about both of you lately.  So much so that I just searched Greg on my computer. 

Imagine my surprise and sadness when I read that he passed away only weeks ago.  I am so so sorry for your loss. He was such a gentleman, incredibly talented and delightful.  

May all of your beautiful memories be a source of comfort. Please know that we share your grief. We will certainly make a donation on Greg's behalf.

Take care,
Meryl

• • •

Meryl,

Of course I remember you and Gary. Interesting that he was on your mind. We closed the business in 2005, a year or two after he was diagnosed with Young Onset Alzheimer’s Disease. 

We closed the firm so we could travel the world, enjoy our life, and live to the fullest with the diagnosis. We decided we could lie down and die or hunker down and keep going. 

We lived well for ten years even though the disease created for both of us, new challenges and ways for living. In January of 2013, his condition got to the point that I could no longer provide for his needs at home.

He moved into the Liberman Center in Skokie where he received great care. Even though greatly diminished, Gregory continued to enjoy life, be grateful for what he had; was patient, kind, considerate, and compassionate.

I continued to visit him every day and found that as I was able to step into his world, I loved him just as much, if not more, than the first day I met him 40+ years ago. 

Thank you for your kind words and the contribution is appreciated.

Widow, The Term "Dead," and The Grief of Others

It seems the "Gay" thing to be a "Widow" instead of a "Widower." But that is just me:-) This realization shocked me. I knew (and hoped) that Gregory would die before I did, if only because of the odds set up by his Dementia/ Alzheimer's. But never thought that would mean that I would get a new title. "Widow."

In some ways I do not need or want to hold on to that label. I am just me. Michael. Whose life long partner, Gregory, person I loved more than life and still do, has died. And now I go on to decide who I am without a partner to accompany me through life. Title, label not necessary.

I am pretty well "defined" if only because Gregory and I lived, grew, and loved on parallel tracks that converged more often than not. We had our own unique interests, our own unique activities, and our own unique friends and those interests, activities, and friends crossed over often and we enjoyed learning from each other and experiencing life through each other's eyes. But none-the-less, I am still needing to redefine myself, yet again, now that Gregory has died.

I wrote a "kitty story" about one of our pets who died many years ago. It ends with and the title is: "My Kitty is a Memory Now." It is still painful as I continue to get used to saying and realizing that Gregory is dead. I prefer that to "passed," or "left us," or "gone," or "is an angel now." While those comments might make Gregory's death easier to talk about, the use of the word death, died, dead ... helps make the reality of the situation easier for me to learn to live with.

Based on a post from my friend Pat, who was one of Gregory's champions and who visited him very often, always to Gregory's delight, I realized that I am not the only one who is grieving his death. Click here to see "Pat Remembers Part 1" and Pat Remembers Part 2 (Both open in a new window.)

The following can be said by many people about Gregory's death:
     "I have a good friend who recently died."
     "I have a loving uncle who recently died."
     "I have a dear great uncle who recently died."
     "I have a brother who recently died."
     "I have a brother-in-law who recently died."
     "I have a colleague who recently died."
     "I have a good neighbor who recently died."
     "I have a wonderful college chum who recently died."

I was so wrapped up in my own grief, in planning for Gregory's cremation and his memorial at the condo and the one at the Lieberman Center, that I didn't stop to think how many other people would people would be grieving Gregory's death. He was loved by so many people. When a person dies, you get to hear about how they touched so many people's lives and so it is with Gregory. He will live on for a long, long time in the minds, and hearts, and memories of many.

More Memories from Pat

A post from my dear friend Pat Anderson

Pat Anderson

47 mins · 

This is my friend Gregory who passed away a couple weeks ago. (See Michael Horvich for more info if you wish.) Preparing to move, I was having trouble getting rid of this well-worn and very old teddy bear. I took it to visit Gregory. Now I will have a harder time getting rid of it.

Pat Remembers

This was taken from Pat's Facebook page.

I never knew Gregory “before.” When I met him, his Alzheimer’s had progressed significantly, but was often not evident to a casual observer. We’d go for long walks, and visit the bird shelter to hug a big parrot. He had an art show. When we ate at restaurants, he needed help ordering.

As time passed, he needed help zippering his jacket, putting on his gloves, and pouring his Perrier into his glass. When I offered to do these things, he was always grateful. Through all this, he was patient with himself, and handled his confusion with grace and dignity, at least in front of me. 

Moreover, he never lost his manners, like standing aside for me to go through doorways first (although I felt he should go first, so I could watch over him.) Alzheimer’s stole a lot from him but he remained responsive and gentle and agreeable with me. 

While I do not begrudge him the relief of his death, I regret that I no longer have him as a model. We must remember these things in our hearts and continue to be the better person our friends inspire us to be.

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Michael Horvich That's why I love you. You and Gregory instantly bonded and you were always gracious but not condescending to him. He loved you so and I swear, when you visited him at Lieberman, he was usually happier to see you than me smile emoticon I am not jealous but it made me love you all the more.

Roles Reversed

This photo showed up on my "Facebook Memories."

During this time, October 2013,  I was still cooking for Gregory and me. It was a new skill for me as he used to be the chef and I the sous chef.

Then the roles reversed. I was so "proud" of my new abilities that I posted a lot of "food pix."

Family Memories

This letter is from Gregory's niece, Michelle, oldest daughter of his brother Alan (RIP.) Alan and his family are known as the "Southwest Maires" because he and Dellaura, his first wife and long time love and the mother of his children all live in that part of the U.S.

Alan and his wife Iris, his soul mate and "Annie Oakley," and all of the children and grand children continue to live in that part of the country.

• • •

My dearest Michael,

I’m so sorry it has taken me so long to write you to let you know how sorry I'm for your loss. I know this has been bitter sweet for you. He hadn't been your Gregory in so long but it is always such a shock when it happens. 

I still can't believe he's gone. Ed and Renee called to let us know at the same time. It didn't hit me until I called Sarah to tell her. Then I lost it. I started telling her things for which I loved him so much, and the more I talked the more I cried. Poor Sarah. Even long distance she got a wet shoulder.

I am not very good at Facebook. So I thought I would wait a little bit to write you. I knew you were probably a little overwhelmed by everything at first. Not really being able to keep up with all the love you were shown by friends and loved ones from all over. Iris said the two of you had a nice visit. I'm sure your home was bursting at the seams for your open house for Greg. Wouldn't he of loved that. 

I know I have said this before but I will tell you once again how much he meant to me even though down through the years we didn't communicate very often. Years and distance tend to get in the way as much as we mean to keep connected. I guess I need to get better at social media. 

Greg was the big brother I always wished I had. I thought he walked on water when I was a kid. I remember laying in the school house in Vermont listening to him playing the guitar, he would let me sit on his lap to go down the waterfall because I was so scared. Listening to him play the piano in the house in Orange. 

He always treated me like I was his age, not a little kid nine years younger. He gave me my first Beatles album, which I am still addicted to much to Mark's distress. Lol. He took me to New Haven to walk around Yale. 

He and Barbara would have me come spend part of Christmas break with them in Boston. He even met my bus when our high school trip took us up there, so I could spend the day with him. He always made me feel special. He would take the time to talk to me and really listen, what I thought mattered.

Do you remember the stone blocks and the wooden circus that was at Grandma's in Orange. He would sit on the floor and play with us with those for hours. Hey, my name is because of Greg. I was born early and they were going to call me Stephen Daniel until Greg who was taking French suggested Michelle. Thank goodness. 

I remembered I felt so proud of him one time when we lived in Milford. He had gone to a peace rally. I was in 6th grade and didn't really understand why Grandpa and Dad were putting him down. It got a little loud as usual. But he very calmly stated his case and then came out and played cards with us. I felt like it was important to him.

When Grandpa and Grandma moved to Brentwood I got to Know Greg through Grandma's eyes. She shared the stories that he wrote with me. I remember one was about Grandma Carrie towards the end of her life. He helped Grandma design the crazy quilt. She would ask me to help with it when we would come over for dinner. 

When the girls were young the three of us went to visit them and spent the night before we went to Elkhart. Greg took the kids to the zoo. They have always remember ed that trip. Greg wanted to go to the fabric store to get a piece of material for a back to a pillow Helen had made. I offered to drive. 

We got to the store and I embarrassed myself by admitting that I didn't know how to parallel park. He very calmly said to switch drivers so he could park it for me. A long of car very patiently waited while he parked it. I'm sure some were laughing, no one honked. He never mentioned it because I'm sure he realized how silly I felt. 

You and I went for a walk and you bought me a blue glass coffee cup. I have been collecting blue glass ever since. 

You and Uncle Greg always called us on our anniversary. For years and years. Even though it is hard to catch up like that only every once in a while, I still knew he loved us and cared.

The last two times I saw him was at funerals. Grandpa's, he had the flu when grandma died didn't he? And when you all came to Goshen for Grandma Marvel's. That was so loving of all you to do that. It would of been miserable to just be us. But you all came and brought laughter and love into the room. So the last time I saw him was getting into that little sports car with you. You were going to go on vacation somewhere and he was so excited. That's the way I want to remember him.

You had forty years of wonderful memories of him.  I know this has Been hard on all of you. I am glad that I was spared watching him go down hill. That would of been extremely difficult. It was always bitter sweet when you  would send your updates. We knew this day would come and we didn't want it to drag out for your sake. But that doesn't make it easier.

I am not very good at expressing myself especially in emails. Mom says I just ramble. But, I wanted to let you how truly sadden I am over a great lose to all of us. I will try to keep in better contact. I have to get to work.

All our love

Michelle and Mark

The Sewing Box and The Sponge Bath

Hi Barbara,

Picking up his ashes yesterday was not as hard as I thought. Gregory is gently resting in the sewing box of his Grandma Carrie, his father’s mother. 

Gregory tells the story of how sorry he was that he was not able to see her when she died and was not able to go to her funeral because he was across the country at school.

He tells of their time together on overnight visits when he was a young boy, when they would sit on the font porch of her house, across the street and a little way down from the Goshen, Indiana court house. 

Gregory loved to play by the court house, walking up and down the grand stairs, and balancing his way around the building on the first floor parapet. 

They would watch the sun go down, and the cars go by, and talk of things. They would always have popcorn for dinner and oatmeal for breakfast. 

She was either poor enough or stingy enough (and probably a little crazy enough) to not bother wanting to light the water heater. She would boil a pot of water, let it cool down, and instruct Gregory how to take a “Navy Bath,” also known as a sponge bath. 

She would instruct Gregory saying, “First you wash as far up as possible, then you wash as far down as possible, then you wash possible.” 

I had ordered a bio-degradable box covered in handmade paper with dried fall leaves affixed to it. For me it was the best of the available choices (and there were many.) 

The night after making his arrangements with The Cremation Society of Illinois, I was sitting in the kitchen folding dusting rags (just realized the significance of “dust to dust”) and it came to me (might you say insight or might you say Gregory or Carrie whispering to me?) that I could use Grandma Carrie’s sewing box for Gregory’s ashes. 

And so the beautiful handmade paper box is now lovingly placed in Carrie’s sewing box and they are both resting peacefully. He loved her very much and is happy to know that his resting place, for now, is with her.

P.S. This will be today’s post that was written especially for you and Les.

Paris Revisited

Watching the YouTube video above brings back memories of one of the greatest adventures of Gregory and my life but also a deep sadness. In re-living these adventures, and being able to feel Gregory walking besides me, I feel like travel and discovery by myself will never be as joyous again. At least not for now.

In 2005, Gregory and I spent ten days in Paris. At that point Gregory was three or four years into the diagnosis of Dementia/Alzheimer's but he was doing pretty well.

We joined, last minute, on a trip that friends Chuck and John had been planning. We got so excited hearing about their plans and at the potential of spending time with them in Paris, not to mention being in Paris at all, that within three days I was able to arrange all the details: free miles first class on Lufthansa Airlines and an apartment on Isle du le Cité overlooking Notre Dame Cathedral (located just around the corner from Chuck and John's apartment. It was a trip that was meant to be.

During part of the trip we did things together with Chuck and John and at other times, we went on our own adventures.

Click here to see our photos of Montmartre.

Another of the many highlights of our trip to Paris, and probably the most significant was a visit to Vaux-leVicomte which had been a life long ambition of Gregory's.

Click here to see our photos of Vaux-le-Vicomte

Keith Jarrett

Listen to Keith Jarrett play "Somewhere Over The Rainbow" while you read this post.



By now a number of years ago, as Gregory's Dementia/Alzheimer's was getting worse and fairly quickly, dinner time would prove to be a difficult time for Gregory and me. For him to figure out how to navigate the food on his dinner plate and in the beginning of this new loss for me, losing my patience with him.

On one particularly difficult night, I do not remember all the details, but I was not only impatient but also mean. I yelled at Gregory for not knowing how to use his fork and for sitting there staring at his plate. I encouraged him to eat but he was really having difficulties. I grabbed the fork and began feeding him. But not with love. With anger and saying something like, "OK then I guess I am just going to have to feed you like a baby!"

Can you imagine how I feel now remembering back and writing this. In some ways, writing it as an apology to Gregory. Now, at Lieberman, he is unable to feed himself and I will help him to eat dinner (or lunch.) Now I do it with love, and care, and patience. As I carefully wait for him to have finished his chewing I bring the next portion to his mouth announcing what I am offering: "Here is a bite of roast beef now." "Here is some delicious mashed potatoes." "Mmmm, this creamed spinach is one of your favorites." I repeat my monologue (or is it a dialogue?) with each bite. Sometimes I'll just say, "Ready?" or "OK?" or "Do you want more?"

Several times, at Lieberman, I have talked to Gregory about how sorry I am about some of the times I was mean before and I might cry a little. While he does not have much language, I think he understands what I am saying and I know that he accepts my apology.

The reason for the Keith Jarrett above is that we used to listen to music at dinner time to make the evening more pleasant and to help cover the fact that conversations were no longer possible unless they were one-sided coming from me. The music made for a mutually enjoyable experience. Keith Jarrett is one of our favorites.

After one particularly difficult blow up, Gregory and I sat quietly through the rest of dinner, tears running down my face, Gregory suffering quietly as well, while Jarrett's Köln Concerts was playing. That piece, if you are not familiar with it, is somewhat noisy, not really melodic, but beautifully strong and emotionally played by Jarrett with his moaning and breathing heavy showing up behind the music. He puts his entire self into the performance.

When the piece ended, Gregory said to me, "That was perfect for our situation. Wasn't it?" At that we were able to "make up" and hug and get on with our life. We were both always good at apologizing well and picking up our love again as we continued doing the best we could do with a horrible situation: Alzheimer's Disease!

In some ways, the more I listen to Köln, I think it would be great background music for the movie of Gregory and my life.

Memories
By Michael A. Horvich

Memories of earlier times arrive
No longer to be there for me, or us
So I sit at computer and compose
And console self as best I can.

I sit on the summer warmed balcony
The grass and trees growing lush
On the roof deck garden below us
As this poem begins to blur.

My coffee steams in the hot sun
My toast: rye with raspberry jam
The birds chirp and tweet and twittle
As the cold tears wet my cheeks.

"May I come out and join you?" he asks
With an up turned questioning voice
"But off course you may and welcome!"
As I reply with sorrow's memory.

We talk about flowers below us growing
About the sun and clouds above us moving
We sit together quietly holding hands
As my memory is unable to quiet itself.

I stick my expecting bare feet into
His empty, sun warmed worn sandals
He suns his legs stretched over mine
And I wonder with whom can I cry?

Deep gasp after gasp after breath
Tears continuing to flood and fill
A sadness, an emptiness, a grief
So deep as to drown without hope.

An Exchange With An Important Friend

Good commentary on the drugs Michael.  I think drugs may be appropriate based on the patient's situation/behaviors.  Sounds like you've come to that conclusion too.

Saw the article in Orange County Register. Wish I could see the video.  Is it available anywhere?

Hope you are doing OK.  If you wrote that poem in this latest message, it is so honest and on target.  I still remember so much.  You will never lose the good memories--:)

Love and hugs,

BD

Thanks Barbara as always for your feedback. 

Risperdal helped Gregory and now that he is getting a little too “agida” again, I think a small increase is the right decision. Actually have a “Care Conference” today with Social Worker and Head Nurse. 

Video will be released publicly but not for a while as it is being submitted to various film festivals and they all have “not previously shown or publicly released” clauses. You will be among the first to know when it is available. 

I am doing OK but as you know the hole that Dementia/Alzheimer’s tears in your chest never fully heals. 

I haven’t been writing much poetry because things with Gregory have been fairly calm. 

While the memories will always be there and will comfort me, I find that I still need to keep them under control so as not to overwhelm myself with despair. The poem slipped out last night during “one of those times.”

Michael

Insight or Intuition? Real or Imagined? PART II

One thing I did previously was to create what I call Gregory's Memory Book in which 8x10 portrait type photographs of the people in his life are placed.

We have looked through the book only a few times with me naming each person. Sometimes I explain their relationship. Maybe with more practice he will be able to get through the entire book without loosing his focus or maybe I'll divide it into family, friends, neighbors, pets, etc.

I never mention that some of them might have passed on; like his or my mom and dad. I made the mistake of explaining to him, as we reached a pet's photograph, that the pet was dead. He got very sad and cried as if it the pet had just died and this was the first time he had gotten the news. I leaned my lesson.

We haven't looked at the Memory Book for a while and yesterday's experience (To see yesterday's post CLICK HERE. Opens in a new window.) tells me that I need to take the book out more often and go through it with Gregory.

Gregory now has a 42" flat screen TV on his dresser and I am able to hook it up to my iPhone. We use this to "FaceTime" with family and being such a large screen, Gregory is able to focus on the person with whom we are talking. It was almost impossible to do so when we used just the iPhone.

I will attempt to use the photos on my iPhone, sent to the large screen, to visit some of Gregory and my previous vacations. Since photographs of vacations are something that are always in the past it may not be too difficult for Gregory to revisit. I do not know if he will lament his inability to travel now or return to some of these sites but we will see. I don't think so.

Depending on how these go I might try revisiting some of his architecture projects photographs or other activities in which he can no longer participate like painting with Nancy Rosen or family parties.

Again, I will keep you up to date on how this progresses.

Memories

Shared by Dementia Care Specialists on Facebook:

Please send good thoughts to Karen Doyle, who writes: 

"I thought the caregivers might benefit from a person who still has enough left to share the early effects of dementia on us who suffer from it. I am 59 years old and just diagnosed with dementia. Over the past years I have slowly lost my memories of my life. 

I've always had problems with my memory, especially during stressful times. I still know who people are but without the memories to go with the person, the person does not have the same meaning to you. You know it's there - you know you love them - you just can't find it - can't feel it - can't express it. 

And then the anger comes because you are lost and empty and scared and alone without understanding. All you want is your life back but you don't know where it went. You sit and stare and search the empty voids of your mind trying to find yourself and refusing to believe you and your life are disappearing before your very eyes. You fight with all kinds of emotions that you never had to deal with before because you had the years of your experience in life to help you. 

You see - without the memory - you have nothing - therefore you feel as if you can do nothing. Scary right?? 

Hoping this might help at least one person out there. It's all I have left to give. God said share my pain and I will obey."