The past is not a prophet; at best, it is only a teacher. So, what have I learned over the years?

In this newsletter:

The last 3 months of Fran's journey with dementia were difficult. That is my excuse for not writing my newsletter for some time. But I'm back. I discovered many things about the twists and turns of aging. I have much to write.

Weeks ahead you'll learn about happiness and challenges you will face as we grow old together.

You are going to want to change your 'now what' into 'what now' moments.

Today it's all about the dementia caregiver's journey of lovingly standing by your loved one in this terrible disease.

I'll be writing more on all things dementia and the caregiver's life in coming issues. So, keep in touch.

Seven Lessons I Learned While Caring for Fran

Each month the disease tried to lessen our love; instead, it grew deeper.

Richard L. Armstrong, August 2026.
rich@richard-armstrong.com​

I’m not a doctor, nor have I ever pretended to be one on TV. What I am is a husband who spent ten years caring for my wife, Fran, as she lived with Alzheimer’s disease and vascular dementia. Fran died on July 16, 2026. These are not medical instructions. Only seven relevant things I learned along the way. Perhaps something here will help you in your journey.

1. Learn all you can about the disease.

At this present time, there is no cure for Alzheimer’s disease. There are treatments that may help some people, so speak with your doctor about what is appropriate for your loved one. Fran was on this medication, and it slowed the progress for a while. But be careful about the many claims you will hear about miracle cures. There are plenty of people willing to take your money by promising something they cannot deliver. Talk with a qualified medical professional. Ask questions. Learn everything you can about dementia. Believe me, you will need what money you have later in the journey. Most importantly, remember that you don’t have to learn everything at once. Take it one step at a time.

2. Keep love alive.

This may be the most important thing I learned. I grew deeper in love with Fran with each downward turn of her disease. Even as her mind walked away, I knew it was the disease, not her. That distinction became significant to me. There were times when Fran would ask me for my name. Occasionally she recognized me; other times she didn’t. I always responded, “I’m your ever-loving husband, Richard, and I love you so much.” Learning about dementia helped me understand that I was seeing the effects of a disease, not a change in the love we shared. So learn about the disease. Read books. Read articles. Listen to people who have traveled this road before you. Knowledge won’t make the journey any easier, but it will help you understand what is happening to the person you love. And don’t forget to keep loving the person behind the disease. I found the power of touch was so important. By holding her hand and caressing her face lovingly with my hands. I always tried to find ways to reassure her of my love.

3. Surround yourself with at least these three people.

There are people you will need along the way. First, your pastor or clergy member. You will need spiritual encouragement and someone who will listen when the road becomes difficult. Second, your medical provider. Keep in touch with your doctor and don’t be afraid to ask questions. An MD who understands dementia can become an essential part of your journey. My local hospital provided specialized Alzheimer’s memory care help for my wife and me. Third, someone you trust to help you with financial matters. Dementia can become expensive, and you will need to make wise decisions about where your money should be spent and where it should be saved. These three. Spiritual, medical, and financial will become increasingly important as the disease progresses.

4. Expect emotions you never knew were possible.

You will experience emotions you never thought you would experience. They’re not all bad emotions either. There will be sadness, frustration, fear, loneliness, and perhaps guilt. There may also be moments of laughter, tenderness, gratitude, and joy that surprise you. Don’t be ashamed of your emotions. You’re caring for someone you love while watching the disease slowly take away pieces of the person you have known for years. That’s hard. Give yourself permission to be human.

5. Don’t isolate yourself.

The tendency is to withdraw from social life. You may find yourself staying home because it seems easier than explaining what is happening. Fight the desire to be alone. Focus on building deeper friendships with people who will listen and understand. Find a support group. If the first one doesn’t fit your needs, find another one. And when someone offers to help, don’t automatically say, “I’m fine.” There will be times you aren’t fine. And that’s okay. Let people help you. You may discover that some of the people who walk beside you during this difficult season become lifelong friends.

6. Don’t put your life on hold.

Pay attention to what needs to be done in your life. Take care of the house. Pay your bills on time. Don’t neglect your health. Get some exercise. Get outside. Keep active. Develop a disciplined sleep schedule as much as you can. And don’t put your entire life on pause. I did that for several months, and it did not help me to face what was happening. It’s like sitting with your car on idle beside the express highway. You’ll notice the cars whizzing past. Keep your life in gear. Dive forward. Keep the tempo of life moving forward. Your loved one needs you, but you are still a person with needs of your own. Taking care of yourself isn’t selfish. It helps you remain strong enough to take care of the person you love. There will be days when this is easier said than done. Do what you can, and don’t beat yourself up when you don’t do it perfectly.

7. Pour out your anxieties to God.

I beg you not to be ‘put off’ by my reference to my faith. I admit I have a strong faith, yet I’m a realist. Pain will visit us whether we have faith or not. Therefore, I’ve listed five of the many books and one sonnet I referred to often during my wife’s illness. They’re listed at the bottom.

This is where my faith became especially important to me. There were things I could not fix. There were days when I didn’t know what tomorrow would bring. Times when I simply had to place what I could not control into God’s hands. By nature, I’m a fixer. But I was unable to fix this; I needed someone or something bigger than myself to rely on. So, I poured out my anxieties in prayer. In addition, I read the Bible. Reading through the books of Psalms and Proverbs provided much more in-depth insight into why I was struggling. I didn’t always understand what God was doing, and I still don’t, but I learned that I didn’t have to understand everything to trust Him. If you have faith, don’t be afraid to bring your fear, anger, questions, and sorrow to God. He can handle all of it. And if you don’t share my faith, I hope you will still find someone or something that gives you strength and a place to lay down the burdens you are carrying.

One thing I hope you remember

When love is nurtured, it becomes a quiet source of strength. Love gives you a reason to carry on. It may become one of your greatest legacies. Even death cannot stem the flow of true love. I had 55 years of my best life ever with Fran by my side; I’m still in love with her. And remember this: you are not alone. There are others facing the same questions, fears, exhaustion, and heartbreak while caring for someone with dementia. Find them. Don’t stay home alone and try to carry everything yourself. A support group may not be the answer for everyone, and the first one you try may not be the right one. Keep looking until you find people who understand what you’re going through. If you’re just beginning this journey, I want to leave you with something I learned over ten years of caring for Fran.

You don’t have to know how to walk the entire road today.

Just take the next step. Learn what you need to learn. Ask for help when you need it. Take care of yourself. Keep loving the person in front of you. And, if you believe as I do, keep trusting God with what you cannot control. I learned a lot during those ten years. But perhaps the greatest lesson was this: even when Fran’s memory was walking away, my love for her didn’t.

Resources

• The 36-Hour Day: Nancy L. Mace, MA, and Peter V. Rabins, MD, MPH. This book deals mainly with the help for caregivers of dementia patients.
• My Two Elaines: Martin J. Schreiber. Martin was the former governor of the state of Wisconsin. He describes changes his wife experienced in her Alzheimer’s journey.
• The Gift: 14 Lessons to Save Your Life by Edith Eger. This book taught me to change my ‘Why Me’ to ‘What Now.’ The writer says victims ask, “Why me?” But survivors ask, “What now?”
• The Grief Recovery Handbook: by John W. James and Russell Friedman. This book helped me to understand my relationship to grief was unique to me, no exceptions. All experience grief, but all do not grieve the same way.
• Man’s Search for Meaning: by Viktor Frankl. This book brought an understanding about the pain in grief. He called it “tragic optimism,” saying, “I see the pain. But I can still find a reason to keep going.”
• I found solace in William Shakespeare’s Sonnet 73. In his 14-line verse, he catalogs aging and the deepening of love. Autumn’s falling leaves, daylight fading into darkness, and the smoldering embers of a once-roaring fire dying. Yet our love grows deeper.

I also encourage you to check with your local Alzheimer’s and dementia support organizations, medical professionals, and caregiver support groups.

You don’t have to walk this road alone.

I'd love to hear your comments, questions, and insights you have on this post. Email at rich@richard-armstrong.com.

I wish you well, my friend, Richard.