My Grandmother, Connie O’Neill, was an absolute light in this world. She had an amazing personality and was a family woman through and through. You could find her shopping the best sales with her sisters, hosting family dinners every Sunday, spoiling her grandkids, or doing as much of the work as she could get away with when you invited her over for a party or holiday meal. She never stopped hustling and bustling, and always found the fun and joy in life.

Alzheimer’s slowly stole that from her.

When I was around 10 years old, this disease was new to us. I accompanied my grandparents to Lowell General for my grandmother’s appointment. I walked in with her as my grandfather parked his car. My grandmother told me to wait in the gift shop for my grandfather while she went to her appointment. He never came in after parking the car, so I waited for my grandmother to return. When she came and found me, we went out to the parking lot and couldn’t find the car. She was adamant that he was at the gas station visiting his buddies. We walked a mile to the gas station on Mammoth Rd near West Meadow. He was not there. I could tell how confused my grandmother was, but I didn’t know what to do other than stay by her side. We walked the whole way back to the hospital and eventually found my grandfather. He said he was in their “normal spot” and couldn’t understand why she didn’t check there.

The Alzheimer’s progressed to a point where she could no longer speak to us. A once vivacious storyteller was now barely able to say a single word. Though different, she still found joy in her life through caring for baby dolls, so we would visit her and create meaningful moments with them. We lived for those few precious moments when she would look at us with recognition and love.

The emotional toll that this disease takes on families is staggering. It is time to find a cure and protect the minds of our future. Thank you for your consideration in supporting this important work. Together we can make a change