While I was away

When I began writing my blog, I was warned that I shouldn’t start it unless I was committed to writing on a regular basis.  You can see where that went.  I’ve taken a seven month sabbatical—time does go by fast when you’re having fun.

Since my last blog entry, I’ve given speeches about Alzheimer’s and caregiving in Montreal; Greenwich, CT.; Baltimore; San Francisco; Dublin; Berlin; Luxembourg and Paris. My photographs from I Still Do have  recently been on exhibition in Berlin and Paris and are currently in museum shows in San Diego (MoPA) and Daytona Beach, Florida (SMP.)  It’s clear to me that people around the world want to understand the personal stories behind the Alzheimer’s statistics—and art is a way for them to connect very personally and very viscerally with a disease that is often still hidden.   Seeing how people bond with Ed through my photographs of him, and by extension connect with others with AD, is something I find very rewarding and touching.  For me, photographing Ed has enabled me to give shape to something that’s shapeless and a voice to something that’s been silent.  It’s been a way for me to confront Alzheimer’s using the only weapons I have.

Ed, by being my model, my muse, my husband, my best friend—and, always, my cheerleader—has given me a very great gift.  He’s also touched thousands of people whom he’ll never know.

Since we’re in the season of Thanksgiving, I will add that Ed and I are doing well even though his Alzheimer’s has progressed. Our conversations are less complex and wide-ranging, but we still understand each other. We go for walks in the facility in which he resides or we sit in the sun holding hands.   Last week, Ed had forgotten who I am and that we’re married—what he told me, though, is that I’m his best friend.  That, and dinner with my family, make this a very good Thanksgiving.