New Alzheimer’s treatments bring hope — and reminders of those we have lost

Ten years have passed since I last spoke to my grandfather as himself. Not a day goes by that I don’t miss him.

The man who forgot me isn’t the one I carry. I carry the other one. The one who took me for long walks, who collected acorns the way other men pocket loose change. He taught me never to speak ill of others, advice I have absorbed deeply and applied far less than he would have liked.

He never had a bad word to say about anyone. Not once. As an Irishman, this made him practically a medical curiosity.

We fed livestock together in the early mornings, breath visible, ground hard underfoot. He had a tenderness with cattle and sheep that I have never seen replicated