In June, as we celebrate longer days and the promise of summer, we are also called to pause—to remember those who are slowly losing their memories. June is Alzheimer’s and Brain Awareness Month, a time to raise our voices, share our stories and wrap our love around those living with Alzheimer’s and other forms of dementia.
Many of us, whether prepared or not, have found ourselves in the deeply emotional, often overwhelming role of caregiver to someone we love who is suffering from Alzheimer’s disease. It is a painful, confusing, and at times heartbreaking journey—one that tests the limits of love, patience and emotional endurance. Alzheimer’s disease does not just steal memories. It unravels lives.
I know this journey intimately. During the last year of my beloved “Mother Dear’s” life, I witnessed firsthand how this cruel disease strips away not only memories but identities. My grandmother was a strong, proud, independent woman—the very blueprint of who I aspired to become. She was the backbone of our family, the compass of my moral direction and the quiet force behind so many of the values I hold dear. She was always sharp, elegant and full of grace—the kind of woman who could command a room with a glance and comfort a soul with a touch.
But Alzheimer’s does not discriminate. Over time, I watched my grandmother transform before my eyes. The sparkle in her eyes dimmed. Her once-confident words became uncertain whispers. Eventually, she no longer knew who I was. Every man she saw, she called “Papa.” Every woman, “Mama.” It shattered me, not just because she forgot my name, but because she forgot herself. The woman who raised me, nurtured me and shaped my very identity became a shell of who she once was.
And yet, even in that space of forgetting, she taught me one final, profound lesson: that love does not depend on memory. That connection can exist in a simple smile, a held hand, a familiar song or a whisper of reassurance. Even when her mind could not recognize me, her spirit knew I was there. And that, I believe, is the power of presence.
Recently, I learned that another beloved family member has been diagnosed with dementia—a condition that often signals the early stages of Alzheimer’s. We know we must be there for him in any way we can to help him hold on.
This is why Alzheimer’s and Brain Awareness Month matters so deeply—because behind every diagnosis is a legacy and a heartbreak. This month is also a time to empower families with knowledge, reduce stigma in our communities, and lift the unsung heroes—the caregivers—who sacrifice daily to care for someone they love.
To every caregiver reading this: You are not invisible. Your strength, your patience and your quiet heroism matter. Your late-night prayers, your whispered reassurances, your exhausted hugs—they all matter.
We must not turn away. We must not allow our elders to suffer in silence. We must tell the truth about this disease—how it ravages, how it isolates and how it affects communities of color. Alzheimer’s disproportionately affects African American and Latino communities, yet we are often underrepresented in clinical trials, underserved in resources and overwhelmed as caregivers.
To anyone currently walking this journey: I see you. I stand with you. And I honor your courage.
Let us never forget those who can no longer remember. Because even if they forget, we will not.
Healing Without Hate: It’s a choice. It’s a lifestyle. Pass it on.
Visit www.WendyGladney.com and www.forgivingforliving.org to learn more.
Wendy is a life strategist, coach, consultant, author and speaker.
