"People living with dementia may forget what happened five minutes ago, but they rarely forget how someone made them feel."

Recently, I found myself spending time with an elderly woman I'll call Mrs. Pepsi.

She has early-onset dementia.

Some days she laughs, tells stories from her childhood, and speaks about her unwavering faith in God. Other days, according to her husband, she becomes frightened, confused, and someone completely unfamiliar to herself. Afterwards, she often has no memory of those moments.

Watching this unfold has changed me.

Not because I suddenly understand dementia.

But because it has reminded me that every person deserves to be met with gentleness—even when their world no longer makes sense.

More Than Forgetfulness

Many people think dementia is simply forgetting names or misplacing keys.

It isn't.

Dementia changes how the brain processes memories, emotions, language, judgment, and even reality itself.

For families, it often feels like grieving someone who is still physically present.

For the person experiencing it, the world can become confusing, frightening, and unpredictable.

Imagine waking up every day unsure why everyone around you seems to know something you don't.

Imagine strangers insisting they're your family.

Imagine your home suddenly feeling unfamiliar.

That confusion can easily become fear.

And fear often looks like anger.

Our Communities Don't Talk About It Enough

One thing I've noticed is that conversations around dementia are often whispered about in many communities of color.

Sometimes it's called "just getting old."

Sometimes families quietly shoulder the responsibility without asking for help.

Sometimes symptoms are hidden because of shame, pride, or fear of judgment.

The reality is much more complicated.

Research has shown that Alzheimer's disease and related dementias affect communities differently. Black Americans and Hispanic/Latino Americans have been found to have a higher risk of developing Alzheimer's disease compared with non-Hispanic White Americans. Scientists believe this is influenced by a combination of health disparities, access to healthcare, cardiovascular disease, diabetes, education, socioeconomic factors, and genetics—not simply race itself.

Our families deserve more conversations.

More education.

More compassion.

More support.

Softness Is Powerful

I've learned something unexpected while sitting with Mrs. Pepsi.

She doesn't always remember the conversation.

But she remembers how she feels.

When I slow down...

When I look her in the eyes...

When I ask about her childhood...

When I let her tell the same story again...

Something beautiful happens.

She smiles.

She relaxes.

She feels seen.

In a world that constantly corrects people with dementia—

"No, you already told me."

"That's not what happened."

"Don't you remember?"

—we can choose something different.

We can choose kindness.

We can choose patience.

We can choose softness.

Sometimes being understood matters far less than feeling safe.

What Families Can Do

You don't need special training to make someone's day better.

Simple acts can make a tremendous difference:

• Speak slowly and calmly.

• Avoid arguing over memories.

• Enter their reality instead of forcing yours.

• Offer reassurance before explanations.

• Ask about childhood memories—they're often the strongest.

• Hold their hand.

• Smile often.

• Give them extra time to answer.

• Remember that difficult behaviors are usually symptoms, not choices.

These aren't just caregiving techniques.

They're acts of love.

Hope Is Growing

Although there is still no cure for Alzheimer's disease, there has been encouraging progress in recent years.

New medications designed to slow the progression of early Alzheimer's disease have become available for certain patients, particularly those diagnosed in the earliest stages. Researchers are also exploring blood tests that may allow doctors to detect Alzheimer's years before symptoms become severe.

Scientists continue studying inflammation, sleep, hearing loss, cardiovascular health, exercise, nutrition, and even the gut microbiome to better understand how lifestyle may influence brain health.

While none of these discoveries offer guarantees, they represent hope—and hope matters.

The Legacy We Leave

One day, many of us will become caregivers.

One day, someone may care for us.

I hope we create a culture where aging isn't hidden away.

Where memory loss isn't met with embarrassment.

Where our elders remain respected.

Where slowing down isn't considered wasting time.

Mrs. Pepsi may never remember every conversation we've shared.

But I hope she remembers peace.

I hope she remembers laughter.

I hope she remembers that, for a little while, someone sat beside her without trying to fix her.

Sometimes that is enough.

Sometimes that is everything.

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A Gentle Reminder

If you have someone in your life living with dementia or Alzheimer's disease, be patient with them.

Their brain may be changing.

Their heart is still searching for safety.

Meet them there—with softness.

Because compassion is something no disease can erase.