Doug and Connie Moore have been married for 45 years. Doug says he never dreamed his wife would get Alzheimer’s. After hearing the diagnosis, he says, “We both wept.”

Every morning, Doug reads Connie Scriptures from the Bible while she eats breakfast. Doug says his faith has remained solid through the process of caring for his wife. "Not to say that there are not moments when I come to tears," he says. "But I can see her faith is still there."

Before she retired, Connie was the director of nursing services for the Los Angeles Unified School District, in charge of seven-figure budgets and a large staff. When her ability to do math started to fail, Doug knew something was wrong. Connie needs help bathing and dressing, but still remembers Doug, her children and the names of her two Siamese cats — Frodo and Emi.

Connie’s Alzheimer’s was diagnosed early but advanced rapidly. As the disease progressed, the couple faced inevitable sadness and occasional questions of “Why me, Lord?” Doug says. “She always verbalized she feared she would be abandoned because of the disease.

Doug helps Connie get dressed for their Memory Mornings meeting. Picking out his wife’s clothes has been a challenge because, Doug says, he’s not entirely sure how to put together an outfit. A parishioner from his church helps a few hours a week, choosing outfits for the coming days

As Connie’s dementia progresses, dressing and grooming become harder for her. For now, she is still able to comb her hair and brush her teeth.

Doug and Connie head to the local Alzheimer’s Association office, about five minutes from their apartment, for their bimonthly Memory Mornings gathering. The activities include pet therapy, arts, music, dance and storytelling.

Licensed clinical social worker Sarah Jacobus leads a group of 19 caregivers and patients in an exercise called TimeSlips, which is an improvisational storytelling technique that stimulates the imagination of people with Alzheimer’s. “People may not remember that I’ve been there a week ago, but they remember the pictures ant the storytelling," she says.

As part of the TimeSlips exercise, all participants are given the same photograph and asked to answer questions about what’s happening in the scene. "Every person in the group responded in their own way, with a range of verbal capacity and lucidity. But they responded!" Jacobus says.

Linda Goldfinger, the facilitator of Memory Mornings, writes down the group’s descriptions of what is happening in the photograph. At the end of the exercise, she compiles the responses into a story, types it up and gives a copy to each participant.

Karen Pearson and her partner, Ilene Barg, work on formulating a description of the photograph. Karen is Ilene’s caregiver and a regular participant of the program. "The connections being made are so valuable," Pearson says. "No matter what the content, we always walk away with a good feeling."

The meetings allow Connie to interact with others with the same disease, Doug says, and they help him learn new ways to engage and entertain Connie at home. But the gatherings also serve as a reality check on Connie’s cognitive abilities. “Today, she could not verbalize or answer the questions,” Doug says. “In my mind, I would put her at the bottom of the group."

Doug and Connie head home after spending two hours at the Memory Mornings meeting. The meetings are not meant to serve as respite for the caregiver, but as a safe place where the couple can socialize with others in the same situation.

Doug prepares lunch for Connie after returning from the meeting. Connie says she’s hungry, but she doesn’t say much else. "I try to talk to her," Doug says. "But you can’t have a dialogue with her."

Connie keeps herself busy for hours fiddling with random objects, such as Frodo’s felt cat toy. Even though Doug tries to keep a busy calendar for himself and Connie, he still feels a sense of loneliness. "There a lot of hours spent alone, no matter what we do," he says.