by Anthony Cosenza II

Created on: July 13, 2008

Should a child visit a grandparent with Alzheimer's seems like a no-brainer question, one of those questions that can easily be answered within the first few sips of morning coffee. Neither one of my biological grandparents had Alzheimer's but my "adopted" grandfather, whom we called Pop, developed Alzheimer's as he grew older. Pop was a huge part of my life, and the lives of my mother and my aunt and uncle. He was the type of man that you wanted on your side, a man of integrity, honor, unwavering loyalty to his family and friends. He served in war with my grandfather and was his best friend, and while neither one of them ever spoke about their time in the war, one could just tell that they looked out for each other in the foxholes and bush of Vietnam. This was no different later on in life. They both loved each other dearly and he treated my mother, aunt and uncle like his own children and treated me like his own grandchild. He was an excellent carpenter, making me many toys as a child, toys that I still have and cherish. He loved us, and he showed us that he loved us every single day of his life. Without fail he would come to my grandfather's home every single morning, bringing me licorice and quarters or the prized silver dollars, and having coffee with my grandfather. I do not ever remember a time when Pop actually left my grandfather's home, but he did because he came back every morning with more licorice and more silver coins. Most of the time his gifts were given through a magic trick and Pop was the one who showed and taught me some of the first magic tricks I had ever seen or learned. Pop gave us his life and his love and never one day did he ask for anything in return nor did he ever offer any less than everything he had.

I still remember the first time I realized that Pop's memory was slipping. I was 9, maybe 10 years old, and I had walked to his house. I sat at his kitchen table eating ice cream and chatting to him about whatever it was we could think to discuss. Then Pop looked at me with a puzzled look on his face and said to me "Michael, how are your dogs?". My name is not Michael and I never owned any dogs. I did not think anything about this at first, but then he continued, asking about my mother and my cousins, not calling my mother by her correct name and talking about cousins that did not exist. I was heart broken. I could not manage to tell him he was incorrect and as the conversation continued he jumped back and forth between the real me

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