You Were Still Dancing - by Marianne Benz (Paperback)

Book Synopsis

You Were Still Dancing is the story of one family's multi-generational struggle with Alzheimer's disease that not only traverses the complicated web of Alzheimer's from a personal perspective, but also explores the latest medical literature and research.

When Marianne Benz's grandmother, Ma, began her cognitive decline, the term senility was commonly associated with memory loss in the elderly. Alzheimer's disease had yet to achieve its level of recognition as a causal factor of cognitive decline. Though the brain abnormality had been detected decades earlier, the medical diagnosis was relatively new, the understanding of the disease murky, and the treatment-sedating patients to the point of lethargy-primitive and counterproductive. The Ma that Marianne and her family knew disappeared shortly after entering a nursing home, though her physical body lived on for another decade.

Years later, when Marianne's mother started down the same path, Marianne was determined that this time things would be different. Hopeful that the vibrant woman she knew as her mother was still in some way present, albeit trapped inside the thickening fog of Alzheimer's, she vowed to protect her mother from the suffering her grandmother endured and seek a more life-giving and abundant experience for her. The resulting journey into the heart of the darkness that coincides with the loss of memory (both forgetting and being forgotten) brought intense challenges. However, it also brought remarkable rewards as Marianne let the falling pieces of her mother go, and learned to celebrate the new and ever-changing mosaic that she became-ultimately reconnecting with her mother in a way that brought light, joy, and a spiritual awakening.

Review Quotes

Thoughtful research and beautifully examined emotions offer a full, compelling view of Alzheimer's.

The author opens her narrative by challenging readers to reconsider what they see when looking at a "beloved stranger," her affecting term for a loved one who has been afflicted with Alzheimer's. For Benz, her mother's diagnoses-first mild cognitive impairment in 2008, and then Alzheimer's a year later-were the latest in a series of gut punches to the family. "Generations of Alzheimer's runs through my blood," the author writes, describing how her grandmother, whom she called Ma, succumbed to the disease. Benz writes in an understated but powerful voice as she thoroughly examines the effects of Alzheimer's from all angles, acknowledging the absurdity and even occasional moments of humor in dealing with a loved one caught in what she calls the "otherworldly 'dementia dimension.'" In describing her own emotional state, Benz crafts some truly beautiful turns of phrase: "Dust and dirt were spinning around us in a cataclysmic vacuum of struggle and loss," she writes. "But, occasionally, the sun's rays broke through." The author's extensive research into the disease gives her great authority when discussing it. Her narrative is filled with quiet, simple moments that she imbues with profound meaning, such as simply looking up from a sandwich to see her mother smile, leading the author to vow to be more present and better honor the life in front of her-something she has certainly done with this work.

- Kirkus Reviews

As a general surgeon with more than thirty years of experience in healthcare, I truly believe that this book is a "must-read." - Eric S. Bour, MD, MBA, FACS

Benz mixes humor, truth, sadness, and pain as she empties her soul onto the pages of her book - Sally Bartlett, RN, BSN

Marianne shows us what it looks likes on ground level to choose courage and compassion on a journey, while not denying real pain, fear, and loss. - Juli Able, Spiritual Director and author of A Brilliant Night: Experiencing God in the Hard, Unexpected, and Unfinished

You Were Still Dancing presents a thoughtfully woven braid of scientific reasoning, spiritual sensitivity, and emotional intelligence...an impossibly tough topic handled with stunning clarity and extraordinary grace. - Deborah Mantella, author of My Sweet Vidalia