Last August
Love in the Time of Alzheimer's
by
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AUGUST 1, 2022 This is my Mom's last August. I hate that I know that. But I do. She is likely to die during this month. August 2022. This is a diary of my experience with Mom during her "Last August". ••••• Mom... Mary Ann... is currently at Calvary Hospital. Calvary is a well-known and respected hospice in The Bronx. (New York, of course!) She worked at this very hospice for almost 30 years back in the late 70's through the '90's. She was the Volunteer Director. She didn't volunteer herself. She directed those that did. In fact, she sometimes recruited me as a high school student to volunteer. ••••• These days, the nurses who care for Mom call her "Mary". Her chart says "Mary A." So I understand why they do that. It makes sense. But I correct them... (Politely!) every time. I must! I'm moved to. I'm her Primary Caregiver. Her advocate. Her son. Her voice! Out of respect, it's important that they call Mom by her proper name... Mary Ann! ••••• Mom slept through my visit today. I visit every day. I try to arrive at 2 pm and stay until 3:30 pm. I bring an iPad and play music for her. I play the same songs daily from a YouTube playlist. I created this playlist at her home some months ago. I stayed with her in her home for 7 years while Alzheimer's consumed her. As she advanced through the disease's stages, there were few things that kept her "occupied" or focused. "Mama's Music Playlist"... (That's what I named it!) was one of them! Dare I say... "She dug it!" I play these songs every day when I visit. They've become the soundtrack of our time together. Today, she slept through my visit... And the songs. It's not the first time this has happened. Last month, a visit like this would have bothered me... upset me. I would've decided that we are really at "the end". HER end. This may be true. That is a distinct possibility. I mean, we ARE at the end! No one's disputing that! But oddly, she was very animated yesterday. Her nurses said she ate a lot of the pureed food that they serve her. Breakfast. Lunch. Dinner. And well, that bodes well for her "hanging out" longer. I am learning these things. But like I said... and I truly feel... This is her "Last August"! I know it. I don't like it. But I won't forget it. I can't forget it. Her "presence" has never meant so much. Though honestly, it is so very clear we are at the bare minimum. No language. No mobility. Murmurs. Some whispers. Mild animation. Her presence, however... Large. Visceral. After all of this time! But again, Mom is in serious decline. She diminishes. I'm stymied... lost… bereft. More than ever, I find myself less ready to lose her. In fact, for me... her presence grows. Her body. Her story. Her life. All of it... Intensifying! Every breath... whisper... expression suddenly looms large. Her silence is at great volume! It is active! Direct! Carving out a space. A large one. I hate it... I see it... I feel it... I'm fully aware... Mom is sculpting what will be... The Void.
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About the Book
In August 2022, Joe Gulla believed he was witnessing his mother's final month. Mary Ann, in the advanced stages of Alzheimer's disease, lay dying in the same Bronx hospice where she had once worked as Volunteer Director. What Gulla expected to be a final goodbye became thirty-one extraordinary days of unexpected connection, profound moments, and raw honesty about what it means to love someone through their dying process.
"Last August" unfolds as an intimate daily diary, capturing one crucial month in a longer caregiving journey with unflinching authenticity. Through music playlists that became the soundtrack to their conversations, hand-holding that developed its own language, and small rituals that anchored their days, Gulla discovers that his relationship with his mother is not ending but deepening. Even as Mary Ann's words fade, their communication grows more profound.
Written in Gulla's distinctive fragmented style, the memoir mirrors the actual experience of processing grief and love in real time. Each day brings new revelations about connection, loss, and the surprising ways the dying continue to teach the living. From moments of unexpected humor—like Mary Ann trying to eat her pink blanket—to devastating tenderness when she wipes away her son's tears, "Last August" captures the full emotional spectrum of end-of-life caregiving.
This is not a story about death, but about the fierce vitality of love in impossible circumstances. For anyone who has cared for a dying loved one, "Last August" offers the profound comfort of recognition: you are not alone in this sacred, difficult work.
About the Author
Joe Gulla is a New York City-based playwright and actor. His award-winning works have been produced nationally and internationally. He regularly performs at the legendary NYC venues: 54 Below, Joe's Pub at The Public Theater, and Theatre Row. "Last August" is his first memoir. For more information, visit JoeGulla.com