Alzheimer’s Association MA/NH Chapter “Person of the Year” Acceptance

Pamela Kunkemueller 2009 Honoree

My dear friend, Stanley Solomont, who was last year’s winner of this award, always said, “The only good thing about Alzheimer’s Disease is the people you meet along the way in dealing with it.”

While I agree with him that the people one meets are indeed a gift, I must say I think another huge benefit (and I use that word deliberately) is the lessons one learns along the way.  Looking back, I can honestly say that we learned more about living and loving in the nine years we struggled with my husband Jim’s illness than we had before his diagnosis.  These are lessons that are equally important to me now ten years after his death, and they are fundamental to everything I try to do with the Alzheimer’s Association.  I would like to take a few minutes today to pass along to you just three of these. 

First and perhaps most fundamental is my firm belief that there exists deep inside of each individual human being something that is unique to each and yet is in some inexplicable way tied to all others.  Mankind has been trying to name and define that something for millennia.  Suffice it to say that whatever you call it, that existential something is not touched by Alzheimer’s.  It remains whole, innately dignified and incredibly valuable throughout the course of every human being’s life, in spite of the confusion, disintegration and despair of the mind and body.  I believe this because I have experienced it and I’ve seen it at work. 

Early stage patients will tell you loud and clear “I’m still here!”  Long after words fail, many middle and late stage patients will tell you the same message with their eyes:  “I’m still here.  I may be lost, but I am still here!”    Spend any time in an Alzheimer’s nursing home and you will witness moments that reveal this existence countless times.  Jim and I both did in the course of his last two years there.

As caregivers, it is our job to find and stay connected to that essential “I”, to protect it, love it and care for it just as well as we would if the “I” was obvious or the job were easy.  If I had not learned this lesson, I would have missed some of the most profound and treasured moments in our lives together.

This leads me to the second lesson which is the need to focus on what’s left, even while you must compensate for and cope with what’s lost.    No matter how much is lost, there is always something left.   Just because what one has previously known or expected is changing, that does not mean everything will change.  If you lose your way, look to others to help you find what’s left.  Most times, that’s all they see; or perhaps they are just less burdened with the losses that are blinding you.  It is crucial to remember that as long as there is life, there is always something left!

Third and finally, I refer to the proverbial glass:  is it half empty or half full?  What really matters here is not the answer to that question; rather it is the need to continually fill the glass.  It is so easy to loose track of that, and it is especially important when one must fill the glass for two.  If you no longer have anything left to give, how will you ever find what is left to love?  How do you keep the glass full?   If you can’t answer that question, turn to the Alzheimer’s Association. 

It is a great privilege for me to work with the Association, and I can only assume that this award is a validation of my perspective; it certainly is motivation to continue.

Thank you!