there are countless hours of not knowing what’s happening, and she isn’t even able to tell us. “We brought her home and now, [ Joel’s mother] and my mom share a large master bedroom. We installed a hospital curtain for privacy as needed. They are doing fine together. I imagine it works especially well since both are quite far into their Alzheimer’s journey.” Neither of their mothers, once very active in both mind and body, are able to walk now. Wheelchair-bound, the ladies rely on the care of their sons, caregivers, five-days-aweek hospice help, and a generous sister who lets the gentleman take a break each Sunday. “Once the caregivers leave, I give my mom one more dose of medicine around 7pm, and then change her around 10:30pm before I go to bed,” Joel says. “She is then fine until the morning.” Seeing the neurocognitive degeneration in their mothers is literally robbing the pair of two women that mean the very most. Recalls Steve: “[My mother and I] used to have great conversations, walks through our neighborhood, puzzle making, meals, and shopping together. She was an avid reader and enjoyed her book time. We laughed often and enjoyed every minute of our time together. We enjoyed music and piano playing. We’ve been the best of friends my whole life.” Now, though, books are a thing of the past. In fact, it was her waning ability to read that helped tip off Steve’s family that something had gone awry. “We noticed she kept the same books out,” he says. “Eventually, she stopped reading because she couldn’t remember the last chapter at all. After starting at the beginning repeatedly, she finally just stopped reading altogether.” Also worrying was the fact that she became forgetful and would repeat the same questions over and over, often even forgetting where she was going when she was behind the wheel. Joel’s mother lead a full life until Alzheimer’s stripped her of everything she’d built with her family.