Spotlight - Erin A. Seaman

Each week we will be picking members to spotlight to tell their Alzheimer's story and why they are running in this year's New York City marathon. Check in each day for new updates on who will be spotlighted and get to know your teammates...(each person is picked at random)

2014 my daddy and I

The summer of 2000 was an exciting year for me.  I graduated from high school with a class of 200 students and I was on my way to a college that my dad and I both visited with 7600 students enrolled.  I was going to be faced with some big changes/challenges and I couldn’t have been more motivated.  In July of 2000 my parents sat down my brother and I for a family talk (shoot, they found the evidence of the party I had last weekend). Well, not exactly.  My mom told us that my father had been diagnosed with an early onset of Alzheimer's Disease. As I processed what this all meant I looked up into his eyes and I saw fear.  I knew my life was about to change forever.  My best friend was about to lose everything at a slow or rapid pace, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.  My protector and hero was going to slip away from me and one day all our amazing memories would be gone.

Its hard to understand how this could have happened so soon to such a brilliant and active man.  My dad was an engineer, went on to law school, was in the Airforce, volunteered with the fire department, helped out neighbors on anything and everything, organize BBQs and hayrides for the neighborhood.  I was so angry and kept asking myself why.  But time was limited and I needed to stay strong and help out my entire family the best way I knew how.

In the summer of 2008 my dad asked me to sit with him.  I'll never ever forget one ofthe last meaningful conversation we had: 

"Honey, Im scared.  I don't know what is happening.  I need you to know I'm probably not going to be the daddy you thought you were going to have much longer.  You are approaching some real milestones in your life and I want you to know I am always with you, even if I'm not there physically".  I told him it was ok, that he is always going to be because he is forever within my heart.  I also told him to quite that kind of talk, that he will be fine, and we were never good at the sentimental stuff (I get my sense of humor from my father).  It was the second time I ever saw my dad cry.  He said "You are my strong girl.  You are the toughest person I have ever known and I am so proud to have raised you this way.  Keep going; you are going to change the world one day and if I'm not there to tell you just keep going and fight.  You need to take care of your mother for me.  You need to remind her its going to be ok and that I love her.  And you need to be strong at moments you want to cry and be angry.  But you need to keep fighting-- promise me you will keep going."

2012 my daddy and I

Twelve months later every child’s worst nightmare came true.  My mom suffered a massive stroke and my father fell while the ambulance took her to the hospital.   My mom recovered from her stroke thankfully, but my dad was becoming more weak and was down to 132 lbs (he’s 6’1).  The doctors told me I needed to make a decision that wasn’t easy; that I needed to preserve my mother’s health and put my father into a nursing home.  I visited 5 nursing homes and nothing I felt was good enough.  I was exhausted and depressed.  I didn’t feel anyone could care for him the way I could.  But by the 6^th nursing home, I finally found his new home.  A team of wonderful nurses helped make him as comfortable and happy as possible.  He participated and speech and physical therapy, and visited with a neurologist and nutrionist once a week.  Things were great for about a year, and then he lost his ability to communicate, walk, and stand on his own. But I couldn’t lose him yet.  I learned along the way there was such thing as non-verbal communication.  We worked with that for a while; "squeeze my hand once for yes and two for no".  He knew if I touched his nose (we always rubbed noses) he knew I was there.  He would give me one squeeze of his hand.  This disease was not going to break the amazing father/daughter bond we have.

As of June 2014, when I went to visit my father in the nursing home on my 32^nd birthday, he never opened his eyes.  He can barely eat even with assistance.  The food is becoming too much to swallow on his own and that’s food that's already pureed.  He cannot participate in physically therapy because his bones are too delicate and body too frail.  He is permanently confined to his wheelchair and on bed rest.  He can hear us (he always will) and thats all we can hang on to.  But every day for the past 14 years I have fought hard for him and will continue to do so for the rest of my life. 

My second family, Athletes to End Alzheimers

 Last year I ran my first marathon.  Not only did I complete a bucket list wish, but I met an amazing group of individuals that I now would be lost without.  Some of my team members have turned into my secondary brothers/sisters.  It’s the best thing I could have done for my family and myself.  I know my dad was there in every stride throughout the 5 boroughs, cheering us on the way he would at all my meets in high school.  If he could help all of my team members, he would but he has passed that along to me.  I will forever be there for this organization by increasing awareness and be another helping hand.  And of course, for a few good laughs!

Donation frame at my “sisters” wedding

Spotlight - Lauren Connell

Each week we will be picking members to spotlight to tell their Alzheimer's story and why they are running in this year's New York City marathon. Check in each day for new updates on who will be spotlighted and get to know your teammates...(each person is picked at random)

Wandy in his Eames Chair

"Buon Gierno, fa bel tempo," my grandfather would say as we walked into the office on the first floor of 88 Pine Street together every Wednesday morning.

"Uhh, I'll take seven," our quick witted, 95 year old receptionist would reply. "He always does this: Wandy, I don't know what you're saying! I may be Italian, but I grew up in Queens!"

I will never forget my first week at Pei Cobb Freed and Partners almost 9 years ago, the architectural firm my grandfather helped to build. I was walked around the office and introduced to everyone "Mike, have you met Lauren? This is Wandy's granddaughter. She's going to be working here for the summer". At this point it had almost been 10 years since his "official" retirement, but almost every person I met greeted me with a smile and something nicer to say about Wandy.  

On my first Wednesday at the office my grandfather walked me around with pride, he brought me down to the plan desk to show me where I could get supplies, and upstairs to the 10th floor to meet Vinny, one of his best friends and the firm's CFO. "So you're Wandy's granddaughter?" He said to me, his hand still on the phone he had just hung up, "your grandfather will not shut up about you...it's always Lauren did this, Lauren did that, Lauren is in architecture school. It is nice to finally meet you. I probably can't talk you out of it now, but look around this place...these people are crazy! Are you sure you want to be an architect? Haha, just kidding. You're grandfather and I are very good friends. He is a great man. You need anything here, you come to me."

Promptly at 11:45 on the dot, my grandfather would arrive at my desk, with a copy of the Science Times or a clipping of an interesting article he had read or a copy of this month's Architectural Record, sometimes all three, hand them to me and say, "ready to go?" And we would walk -- rather quickly because that was the New York pace that was engrained in him after 50 years of working in the city. We walked near the seaport, one of his favorite places in the world, to The Paris, his favorite lunch spot. As we walked we would pass under the Brooklyn Bridge and without fail he would comment "Brooklyn Bridge, designed by an RPI graduate! Cherry and White, fight, fight!"

Walking into The Paris with my grandfather was like walking into a scene from Cheers. Everyone knew his name: the Irish bartender who he would call at exactly 11:00 every Wednesday to say we would be there, can you please hold our table? The bus boys, the waiters and waitresses, and it seemed like even some of the patrons all knew him and gave him a smile.

We were greeted by a voice that quickly became familiar to me: "Mr. Werner! So good to see you today!" she would say in her charming Irish brogue giving my grandfather and I a warm hug and a kiss on the cheek. "I've got the normal table saved for you up there in the corner and I will be right back with your Pinot."

Annette was her name, and she, like most people around him, loved my grandfather, "Mr. Werner", and Vinny. In fact, they were such good customers she made them their own plaque on the wall which sat proudly at the window frame in the corner table overlooking the Brooklyn Bridge. "Mr. Werner and Vinny's Corner," it read. "Erin Go Braugh."

We would start with the soup. The Paris always had the best soup...and wait for Vinny to arrive. Right around 12:15, the standard 15 minutes late, he would stroll in to the same warm greeting. "How is the soup today, Wandy? Good? I'll take a soup and a Pinot when you get a chance, Annette. How's everyone doing? How is the family?" My grandfather loved two things in life: enjoying a nice meal with a glass of wine and good friends and his family. His family meant the world to him.

After spending a few minutes recounting how "my granddaughter Lea is getting her master's in Boston, Lynn's daughter Jamie got an internship with my son, Roy, working at Scholastic, and my grandson Peter is playing varsity tennis!" we would order lunch: grilled salmon, with extra broccoli, every week without fail. Cheesecake would follow: one giant piece with 3 forks. This was Pop's favorite, Vinny and I would have a bite or two and he would divide it up like we were going to eat more, but there was an understanding among us that it was really all for him. Wednesday was my favorite day of the week and I would not trade that time with my grandfather for anything in the world.

I will always remember him this way: The thoughtful man who appreciated the simple pleasures in life and the art of a well cooked and enjoyed meal. The selfless grandfather who, when I was applying for college, took a 9 hour Greyhound bus ride with me to Pittsburgh only to stay for a few hours and hop on the bus back. The husband who, despite late stages of Alzheimer’s, set the table at the nursing home for two, “one for me and one for my wife”. That is who I will remember and I will carry a piece of him with me for the rest of my life.

My grandfather, or "Wandy" as he was called in our office passed away Friday, April 11th, 2014 after battling Alzheimer's, the disease that took his father (also an architect), for the past 4 years. I am running in the TCS New York City Marathon in his memory and to give hope to all of those who may be faced with this terrible disease in the future. I am running for my grandmother who lost her life partner after 62 years of marriage and is the strongest, most brave woman I've ever met, and I am running for everyone who has ever had to stand by and watch as a loved one fades away.