Donate to Joe's Loving Care and Comfort

This is a picture of my husband, Joe, in Aug 2024, about 3 1/2 years after his diagnosis of Alzheimer’s and while he was still able to get around on his own. Yes, that’s a marshmallow in his ear. He wasn’t trying to be funny, though it’s the kind of thing he might have done years ago to make a child laugh. And when I laughed, so did he.

Just a few weeks after this pic, he was placed in hospice, in our home. In some ways, it felt like a long summer—5 ambulance rides from June to Sept, 1 surgery, 3 hospital stays, 25 days in a skilled nursing facility. In other ways, it seemed fast because every time we got home, he’d lost more function.

He is bed-bound and very frail, just bones. He sleeps a lot—often through meals, but when he’s awake, he eats well and still loves his donuts! He is still his sweet self and makes us laugh—sometimes even on purpose.

I work from home, but I have private caregivers come in every day to keep Joe clean and fed—and with some company. After a few bumps, I have 3 wonderful people who tend to him while I work. The cost is over $1000 a week.

My mother died on May 1, 2024, and miraculously, she had some money left for my sister and me to split. After years of us helping her financially, I know she would have been thrilled that she was helping pay for Joe’s care.

My savings is running low. It is a terrible place to be to not want to lose my Joe and also being afraid about how long I will be able to pay for his care.

I know I am lucky to have had someone who loves me as much as he has. I was attracted to him because of his smarts and creativity. He knew history, geography, math. We talked about poetry, books, movies, food, and the world’s spirit. I am so grateful that I am completely still drawn to him even as he has lost these capabilities. We’ve been together 36 years. Our 31st anniversary was Jan 15. I find so much joy and comfort from him turning to kiss me, putting his arm on my shoulder, tracking me with his eyes. He doesn’t say much that makes sense, but he tells me he loves me when I tell him and he still asks if I’m okay.

If you can help, even in a small way, I would be grateful. This has been a very lonely road and I dread the future.