Dick Smith
Portrait of a Gentle-Man Before & After Alzheimer's Disease

• Bio
• Artwork

Bio
I am not an artist, but I do like to paint and do creative things. I would like to paint you a picture, a panoramic landscape, of a wonderful man who has been my husband for 43 years. The colors would be greens, browns, and earth tones, because he loves the outdoors; (nature, fishing, hunting, hiking, running, and all kinds of athletics). There is a bright sun, because he is always smiling and cheerful. No gloominess in this picture. Beneath a beautiful mountain is a stream, running very, very fast, making its mark in the world, just as he did for 36 years working for the same company. Sitting beside the stream is a fisherman, who hates to eat fish, but loves to catch them. The tent is pitched and the stove is hot, ready to cook the catch of the day.

Under a tree are two precious children and their spouses, whom he dearly loves. Hiding behind that tree are four darling grandchildren who are the apples of his eye. This is a man who loves life, works and plays very hard and is a very devoted and loving husband.

If I could take that picture and put it in a time machine back to 1958, you would be looking at the beginning of our lives together. Life has been good to us. Dick spent a good deal of his life working very hard to provide for our family, but in between managed to coach little league baseball and football, do lots of camping, hiking and fishing, traveled all over the US, helped around the house and yard, refinished furniture, etc. A neighbor once said to him, “You know, Dick, you don’t have to be doing something all of the time.” Hustle, bustle has been the picture of our lives together. As the children grew up, our lives changed considerably. Both children found wonderful partners for life and blessed us with four wonderful grandchildren. Then the picture narrows, and there are just two of us, husband and wife, looking forward to retirement, seeing the world, and sitting back and finally stopping to smell the roses we possibly missed along the road of life.

The picture is now dated November of 1994, and after 36 years with the same company, and on the same day our grandson Aaron was born, Dick lost his job. (Talk about lows and highs.)

But what happens after Alzheimer's?
The fisherman doesn’t fish, the traveler doesn’t travel, there is no hustle and bustle to go to work, no playing with grandchildren. Thankfully, the smiles and cheerfulness have not disappeared, although there is a fog hanging around that doesn’t ever seem to dissipate.

The diagnosis came after a long year of wondering what was happening to us. Was retirement just too overwhelming? We were not used to being together for 24 hours a day. Everything was so different than before. Counseling seemed to be the only way to deal with what was happening. To everyone’s surprise, and even the therapist’s, we realized that Dick did not comprehend normal conversation. We were referred to a psychiatrist and then a neurologist, who gave us the devastating news in September of 1996, that WE had Alzheimer’s disease. Dick turned 60 that month, much too young to be dealing with this devastating disease.

During the past five years, the picture has change drastically. The GENTLE-Man is still with us, but he has lost his social graces and is somewhat childlike. He is totally dependent on me to take care of almost everything in our lives; i.e. finances, yard work, driving, any kind of decision-making. His speaking ability is minimal. He no longer drives. Dick is still the same sweet man he always was and everyone who knows him agrees. He was always an affectionate man, but now he needs extra hugs, which is very typical of people with Alzheimer’s.

In regard to memory, he has lost so many things. After working so hard for so many years, he now doesn’t remember that he worked at all. He is very impulsive and doesn’t really stop to consider the consequences of some of his actions. It is not the man that is doing these unusual things, but the disease.

It has been five years since his diagnosis, and things have changed drastically in that time. Due to the fact that he cannot be left alone, Dick now attends an adult day care four days a week, which gives me some time to do my volunteer activities, go grocery shopping, and sometimes just to take a necessary nap. Most of his time is spent pacing or resting. This is a terminal disease, but no one knows how long it will last. The progression is unpredictable, and therefore there is always a feeling of helplessness, uncertainty and frustration, never knowing what might happen on any given day.

The picture is painted, the sun is still shining, the stream is rolling merrily along, the fisherman still looks the same, but…no one knows.

Update: Dick is now living in an Alzheimer’s Assisted Living Facility and seems to be doing quite well. He has lost weight and has difficulty swallowing. I still believe he knows me, although not sure he knows the children or grandchildren any more. And as I said, before, “No one knows”.

After six months in the assisted living facility, Dick passed away on June 16, 2002. His biggest problem at the end was his inability to swallow correctly. The last few days he quit eating and drinking, and it appears he peacefully died in his sleep.

An autopsy was performed at Duke University, and the results showed that Dick did not have Alzheimer’s, but frontotemporal dementia with no distinctive histopathology.

~ Marsha Smith

Artwork

To view a larger version of one of the pieces, please click on the thumbnail image of it.

All artwork and written content has been consented by family member or legal guardian

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