[Anonymous Personal Story]
One of the hardest things my family ever had to do was watch my grandfather fall into Alzheimer's.
In some ways, we may never recover who we were.
My grandmother went through a period of enshrinement after he died, putting up pictures of him at his worst all over so she could sit and cry when she saw them. It's been almost a half a year since he passed away, but we lost him two years before that, for the last two years, he had not been himself. Not the grandfather we all knew.
Before the Alzheimer's, he was a retired physicist who went to a weekly singing group, helped tutor us and other local kids in math and science and donated more then forty hours a week at tax time to our local branch of the New York public library system. He never just did something for anyone, he made us work through how to do it while he helped and taught with other examples.