You've probably heard of anticipatory grief. Unbidden, hidden, and immediate, it comes with the diagnosis that your loved one has Alzheimer's. Depending on when the diagnosis was delivered, it can be several years or more before your loved one dies.

Something in addition to anticipatory grief can also happen along the way, especially in those devastating late years of the disease. I call it Anticipatory Healing. It's connected to grief.

My husband had Alzheimer's. I'm publishing this episode on the second anniversary of his death. In these last two years, I've come to see my grief in three stages:

1. React: This is the six-month, zombie-like period right after my husband died. I didn't have the mental energy to handle anything more than what was absolutely necessary -- the funeral, Social Security, insurance, probate, and more. I saw the fool's errand in all that wishful thinking I had indulged in when my husband was first diagnosed. I felt a new kind of empty.
2. Realize: Over the next year, the truth of my new reality settled on my shoulders. I had already absorbed all of the routine tasks my husband used to handle. That happened several years earlier. Now there was a finality to those tasks. I learned to carry grief without it closing my throat or stinging my eyes. I needed to think about my future...because now I realized I had a future.
3. Reflect: I'm here now. Looking back, I can see how countless little visions of the future shaped the belief that I would survive. Those visions were not obvious! Some were born from frustration. Others from determination. Others from imagination. Hidden in those visions and experiences, I discovered inner strength. I learned to set wise priorities. I found joy, deep joy, in loving memories. I accepted my new life. In doing so, I anticipated that my heart would heal.

For a person with Alzheimer's or other form of dementia, wandering can be dangerous. If that person isn't found within 24 hours, the chances that he or she will suffer serious injury, even death, increase dramatically. The family dementia caregiver will likely experience serious stress until the loved one is found. 

According to the Alzheimer's Association 6 in 10 people with dementia will wander. A person with dementia might lose the ability to recognize familiar places and faces. Losing that ability can happen at any stage of the disease.

Connecticut has partnered with the Alzheimer's Association to offer a state-wide registry to help police and first responders locate people with dementia who have wandered. The program is called "Bring Me Back Home." 

When you register your loved one on the program, you'll be asked to complete a form. It asks for a lot of information. Even if you don't live in Connecticut, download the form. Pay attention to the information the authorities find helpful in finding a person who has wandered. 

The Senior Services Department of UPMC (Universithy of Pittsburgh Medical Center) also has a form that can help first responders if your loved one has wandered. That form is called "Wandering Behavior: Individual Profile." You can download it for free, too. 

If you're a family dementia caregiver and you're suddenly asked to provide information about your loved one, you might be under too much stress to remember everything in the moment. So download one, or both, of these forms. Start filling them out now. Have the information handy should you ever need it. 

Mentioned in this episode: 

Alzheimer's Association 

Register to the Bring Me Back Home Program

UPMC - Wandering Behavior: Individual Profile

Your spouse has Alzheimer's. You know he - or she - shouldn't be driving. When you bring up the subject, you hear some version of, "That's ridiculous! I know how to drive a car." 

He might be right. He might still know how to drive a car. The problem is that he shouldn't be driving a car. 

No, this isn't a simple matter of semantics. Your spouse may still have the muscle memory to operate a motor vehicle. That doesn't mean he remembers the rules of the road. At some point, the muscle memory fades, too. Plus, medication may cloud both physical and mental functions. 

Getting your spouse to give up the car keys is traumatic for both of you. For weeks, my husband stood at the window and stared at the spot where his car used to be. I watched from the kitchen, knowing we were both at the threshold of a major change in the progression of the disease. 

In this episode, I share some of my own stories, as well as those of my friends. 

Some states require that when a doctor diagnoses dementia, the doctor must report the diagnosis to the state's department of motor vehicles. There's an article about that on MedicalNewsToday.com. 

Not long ago, a personal injury law firm in West Virginia contacted me about a guide the firm had created titled "Dementia and Driving." The guide talks about when a person should stop driving. It gives a list of things to watch for and includes additional links you might find helpful.  

Alzheimer's robs a person of so much. When it comes to driving, you might feel that you're robbing your loved one of even more. It all comes down to your need to be observant, patient, realistic, kind, brave, and responsible.

There's so much at stake.