Sandra Day O'Connor's Choice of Love

I was moved almost to tears reading of retired Supreme Court Justice Sandra Day O'Connor's situation with her husband John.  At 77, John is in a facility for Alzheimer's patients in Phoenix.  While there, John has fallen in love with another patient -- in other words, he's forgotten Sandra.  This report was made through their son Scott to local Arizona television and news outlets.

As some friends know, I've been involved in recent tragic situations that have, once again, in a life pattern, sought to strip me of my dignity and humanity.  There seems to be no limit to the depths that some people will sink.  Of course this behavior was seen in some of the ignorant, inhuman comments made by "internet posters" to the story about the O'Connor's unusual - but in the words of Alzheimers experts - not unique situation.

In the late 1980's, my grandmother, who raised me after my mother died (when I was 3 months old), began to show signs of Alzheimers.  By the time my daughter Meredith was born in 1992, my grandmother was becoming very seriously ill, forgetting many things.  At the time I had a little baby, I was struggling to care for my grandmother, and also my father, who had become very ill with congestive heart failure.  My stepmother's health was also failing -- and I had my brother's issues to consider also (he struggled for years with substance abuse and finally succumbed to drug-related AIDS).

After being voted "least likely to get married" and having been Queen of the 24-Hour Party People - this was a time in my life that I can look back to and simply marvel at how everything got done, how everything worked out, despite the tragedies of the time (my brother set my father's house on fire after my dad passed - which burnt it to the ground, left my stepmother homeless and severely ill, and coincidentally melted my mother's Academy Awards into slag).  And I had this little baby, little girl, who so desperately needed me.  And my grandmother.

It took the better part of a year, and visiting every facility and "care home" in a 40 mile radius to find the right place for Nana (my grandmother).  It was Camelot Care, between Redlands and Yucaipa.  Camelot Care was started by the mother of a beautiful girl I'd known in high school, Tacey Lynch.  Gloria (who has since passed) started Camelot Care because of her husband Wayne, Tacey's father, who still as a relatively young man (50's) and a corporate executive, had begun to show signs of Alzheimers.  Wayne's disease progressed quickly.  I remember a good friend and good man, Carl Swing, who worked with Wayne at the Gas Company telling of how Wayne had run away from home, and Carl had gone to find him - and he did - he was hiding behind bushes at the golf course and responded to Carl like a little boy that had run away from home. Then, Wayne died.  Gloria used his insurance benefits to start Camelot Care, which was one of the first places of its type in the US.  I thank the Lord that there are places like this everywhere now.  And I'm sure that this is where Sandra Day O'Connor's husband John must be - not in a "rest home" but a place that is designed to be a good place for Alzheimers patients to live.  Which is different, special, and which preserves their dignity and humanity.

I watched the entire progression of the disease with my grandmother.  I remember the day when I went to Camelot and she didn't know me.  She thought I was my mother for a long time and that Meredith was me.  Then, she didn't know me at all.  She thought there had been a fire at her house and that her mother was coming to get her any day now.  She was back to the time when she was a little girl.  Sometimes she thought I was her sister Stella (whose mind remained sharp until her death at age 99). 

John O'Connor is in that place.  There's no telling who he believes his lady friend is where he is staying.  Or who he thinks Sandra is, when she comes to visit.  He's crossed that line when he no longer remembers his spouse, the mother of his children.  My heart goes out to her and their sons, and to John and those who care for him.  I know what this is, and I have been there.  I have closed my grandmother's house and I keep her things.  I even sleep in her and Bampy's bed (my grandfather).  These things have ever been with me. 

The mockery of the insensitive and ignorant cannot take Sandra Day O'Connor's dignity or graciousness away from her.  This is a human tragedy suffered by so many as people live for increasingly long periods of time and the disease becomes more and more apparent.  She has my complete admiration and support.  I know how difficult it is.  And I know what it feels like to look into the eyes of someone you love, and realize that they do not know you, at all, and never will again.