I was on my way to Omaha to give a talk this past weekend. Who knew that the flight from Chicago to Omaha on a Saturday night would be mobbed? Every seat was full – three across on each side, some 30 rows deep. When I settled into my seat, I asked the older woman with the straw hat next to me if she was from Omaha – and we found our way to some uncanny coincidences. She was writing a book for caregivers for people with Alzheimer’s. She’d just been to Florida–a gathering of sisters to support one through a hard time. The oldest, a smart, vibrant woman, is beginning to lose her memory. The youngest is impatient with her older sister’s lapses. The oldest is angry at the younger’s impatience. My seat-mate was the peacemaker it seemed, with a challenging task ahead of her. “You’re not going to believe this,” I said, “but I’m writing a book called Forget Memory.” I talked about how stigma and fear block us from embracing each other through the process of loss so common at the end of life. All my work and research seemed so right in light of her story. But could attitudinal change really help her? I can see the strong allure of pill research – not just the money to be made, but the ease of the fix. Take a pill – make it better. Social change is HARD.
