Love and memory in the shadow of Alzheimer’s

The documentary 'Malcolm and Barbara: Love’s Farewell' captures the painful journey of a man diagnosed with Alzheimer’s at just 51 years old. Over the course of eleven years, the film follows Malcolm’s transformation from a talented musician into a frail, dependent patient. His wife, Barbara, is by his side throughout, feeding him, comforting him, enduring his aggression when he lashes out in confusion. The story is not just about one man, but about the resilience and heartbreak of families facing Alzheimer’s.

Watching this documentary, I was struck by how closely it mirrors the experiences of many patients and families I meet in my clinic. One of the most distressing changes in Alzheimer’s is the gradual fading of names and faces. A man may look at his wife and believe she is his mother. Grandchildren are mistaken for his own children. Even when a patient arrives at the clinic accompanied by a son, he may smile warmly but say, “I don’t know his name, but he is a kind man.” The memory of names is gone, yet the bond of trust and affection remains.

Over time, speech is lost, and patients become unable to express their emotions in words, which can leave families feeling unloved or forgotten. I remember a daughter asking me tearfully, “Does he still love us?” My answer was yes. Love may no longer be spoken, but it is still felt. Body language, such as holding a hand, maintaining eye contact, or bringing a familiar perfume or book, can evoke recognition and comfort. These small gestures carry enormous meaning.

Science tells us that human memory is divided into two parts: factual memory and emotional memory. Factual memory stores names, dates and skills, while emotional memory preserves the deep imprint of life experiences — graduating from university, falling in love, holding a baby for the first time. Research shows that Alzheimer’s attacks factual memory early, but emotional memory is often preserved until the later stages. This is why specialists encourage families to keep visiting loved ones, even if the patient does not seem to know who they are. The patient may forget your name or your visit, but the feelings of warmth and connection remain.

A person with Alzheimer’s should not be kept indoors all the time. He or she would benefit from exposure to nature and movement: a short drive along the coast, the feeling of sand under their feet, or the sound of birds in the garden. They may not remember who took them there, but their body relaxes, their face lights up with a smile, and for that moment, life feels meaningful again.

Studies suggest that sadness and distress can linger longer than happiness in those with memory loss. This means it is essential to avoid unnecessary conflict and instead focus on creating moments of joy, calm and reassurance.

In my opinion, we cannot yet defeat Alzheimer’s, but we can cherish every moment that remains. Love may be reshaped by illness, but it does not disappear. In many ways, it becomes even more visible in the smallest gestures, the quietest touches, and the unspoken bond between patient and family.