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When I was 12 years old, I had no idea how serious an illness Alzheimer's was. For my cousins and myself, it was funny all the little things my grandma did. One day, she forgot to remove the feathers from the chicken she was cooking. My grandfather called her stupid for not paying attention, for being mindless. I remember vividly her crying at times for no reason anyone else could understand. Most poignant was the time she disappeared from the house and no one could find her. When I turned 14, she died. My only thought was: "There goes my funny grandmother." I had no clue that this disease was in my family to stay.

My relationship with my mom was best friend and confidante. I was an only child. She was funny and beautiful. At age 48, my mother began acting strangely. She began forgetting and kept losing things. At the time, I was getting divorced. I paid no special attention to what she was doing. By the time my mom hit 50, she did not recognize me at times and she forgot to take a bath. I decided to take my mom to live with me. I had a home attendant to care for her. It got to the point that she no longer knew who I was, and would scream at night. I took her for evaluation at Mt Sinai Hospital, and was told that she had advanced stage Alzheimer's.

I will never know where this beautiful and intelligent woman disappeared to. By age 53 she was unable to walk and bedridden. I would go to talk to her to her daily about our past life, but it was just like talking to no one. A few years after I had been managing my mother's disease, my favorite uncle developed Alzheimer's. It became too much for me to handle. I began asking myself where my life had gone. There I was with a perfect life: a good husband, great kids, a nice job, and my one dog, Damian. But then…I had no husband, no perfect life, and my dog was stolen. It's still hard for me to understand how Alzheimer's stole my mother, my uncle and often other parts of my life.