AILSA CHANG, HOST:
More than 7 million older Americans are living with dementia. For many married couples, when one partner is diagnosed, there's often no question that the other will become the caregiver. Vermont Public's Nina Keck reports on one couple who learned that love may not be enough to take on the complications of the disease.
NINA KECK, BYLINE: Ninety-one-year-old Vermont artist Warren Kimble met his wife, Lorraine, in the early 1970s. Both were divorced and raising kids. They'd run into each other a lot socially.
WARREN KIMBLE: I just remember that she called me up one day, and she said, how would you like to go to Montreal? And we'll take the boys and just go. And I thought that was shocking, that a woman would call me and say, let's go to Montreal. So we did, and I guess we fell in love.
KECK: So she pursued you?
W KIMBLE: Yeah. Thank goodness. What a wonderful pursuit.
KECK: Lorraine was a couple years older and, he says, very put together. They talked about everything with each other and were always touching. She was fun.
W KIMBLE: Well, Lorraine was from Maine. I call her my Maine-iac (ph), and she has two big dimples that you can't miss. And to this day, she still dresses well.
KECK: But during the pandemic, when Lorraine was 87, he began to realize something was wrong.
W KIMBLE: It's a very gradual thing, dementia, and you just want to fix it. And it ain't fixable.
KECK: His wife became increasingly forgetful, then angry. Then she accidentally set the kitchen on fire twice.
W KIMBLE: She walked downtown in the middle of the night in the snow in her pajamas, and luckily, someone called the police. The police brought her back.
KECK: I guess I'm wondering about how you hang on to the love in that relationship.
W KIMBLE: You literally hold on, and you hold hands. You sit together. You watch television together. You eat together, and you don't talk because there's nothing to talk about. There's no answers.
KECK: He lost weight and suffered many strokes, he thinks from the stress. It's what finally pushed him to move Lorraine into a memory care facility a year ago. He knows he waited too long.
W KIMBLE: Well, you don't want to do it because you think you can take care of it, or you feel obligated to do it, especially men. Us guys, we have to be tough.
(SOUNDBITE OF ELECTRONIC DOOR CHIME)
W KIMBLE: Will you hold that door for me? Or never mind - I have a key.
KECK: Not long ago, Kimble moved into the same complex as Lorraine. He lives on a different floor, but it's easy for them to visit.
(SOUNDBITE OF KNOCKING ON DOOR)
W KIMBLE: Is Mrs. Kimble around?
LORRAINE KIMBLE: Oh.
W KIMBLE: How come you're in your room?
KECK: Lorraine is petite and still sporty. Her face lights up when Warren pulls her up from a nap.
W KIMBLE: Love is a strange thing. When you get married, there's lots of physical love and stuff. And then there's the talking love, being with love, socializing with love, doing things together is love. And now I have still the ability to see this cute, good-looking woman with the dimples. I don't know what kind of love you call that.
KECK: But he's grateful for it and grateful that his wife had the foresight to buy long-term care insurance, which was expensive. It's made it possible for them to afford memory care and his apartment upstairs. They can't talk anymore, says Kimble, but they can still touch.
W KIMBLE: Because I need it. Does she need it? I think she does. She still knows my name, but she doesn't know much else. And that's tough. But just touching her saves me. She holds me, and it's fabulous.
KECK: For NPR News, I'm Nina Keck in Chittenden, Vermont.
W KIMBLE: You take care. I'll see you probably tomorrow...
L KIMBLE: OK.
W KIMBLE: ...Sometime. All right?
L KIMBLE: OK.
W KIMBLE: Have fun.
L KIMBLE: Bye-bye. Transcript provided by NPR, Copyright NPR.
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