For more than a decade, Edward Jones has helped advance the work of the Alzheimer's Association as National Presenting Sponsor of Walk to End Alzheimer's®. For retired general partner Kim Webb, that commitment is deeply personal.

As Kim cares for her husband, John, who is living with advanced Lewy body dementia, she shares what the Association's support has meant to her — and why families need someone to turn to throughout the disease.

Finding meaning and joy together

John was diagnosed with Lewy body dementia in 2022. Since then, the disease has changed nearly every aspect of their lives. Today, as John approaches the end of his life, Kim's experience offers a deeply personal perspective on what it means to care for someone living with dementia — and why support for families matters at every stage of the disease.

Their story is one of love, adaptation and the importance of recognizing the person who remains, even as dementia takes away so much of what once made communication and daily life possible.

More than a diagnosis

When John could still speak about his experience, he wanted people to understand something fundamental: He was still here.

He had noticed that when people learned he had dementia, they sometimes directed their attention almost exclusively to Kim, speaking about him rather than to him.

"That really hurts," he explained.

His concern was not simply about manners. He wanted people to understand that a diagnosis did not erase the person living with the disease. Kim shared that conviction.

"John still has stories and a life — he's still there," she said.

For much of their life together, books, poetry, learning and humor have been important parts of their relationship. John was an intellectual with a strong sense of humor and a mind that was always engaged with the world. Dementia gradually changed his ability to read, converse and share his thoughts, but it did not erase the history they had built together or the love at the center of their marriage.

"Once you have a diagnosis of dementia, it doesn't mean that there's an absence of meaning and joy," Kim said. "Your life is just different. It's about finding meaning in the moment."

Those words have taken on a different significance as John's illness has progressed. Today, John can no longer speak for himself. Kim's role has changed from sharing experiences and making decisions together to interpreting his needs, attending to his comfort and remaining present when words are no longer available.

The relationship continues, but the ways they communicate have changed. A hand held. A familiar voice. Music. A reassuring presence. Sometimes, being together is the conversation.

Finding support when everything changes

Kim understands how overwhelming a dementia diagnosis can be. Within the same week, she learned that her father had stomach cancer and that John was living with dementia.

Facing two serious diagnoses at once, she reached out to the Alzheimer's Association's 24/7 Helpline (800.272.3900). "I ended up calling at 2 a.m. This amazing man answered, and I cried and sobbed, and he was just so present," Kim recalled. The person on the other end of the phone listened and provided resources to help her think through the next steps.

That experience stayed with her. She had needed more than information. She needed someone who could meet her in a moment of uncertainty, listen without judgment, and help her begin to understand what lay ahead.

Kim subsequently took classes to learn how to care for someone living with dementia. The training helped her recognize that the most helpful response is not always to correct a person or insist on what is objectively true.

One morning, John woke up confused and told her, "I don't know who you are, but I've got to go find my wife."

Rather than correct him, Kim reassured him that his wife would be back and showed him photographs from dinner with friends and family the night before.

In one of the photographs, John recognized her.

It was as a small moment, but it illustrated something important: Understanding dementia can change how a caregiver responds. Knowledge can help replace confrontation with reassurance and allow a difficult moment to become an opportunity for connection.

As the disease progressed, Kim continued learning and adapting. Yet no class could prepare her for every decision or explain precisely what John needed as his ability to communicate diminished.

Caregiving increasingly required her to observe, interpret and make decisions on his behalf.

Support matters in those moments — not because it removes the difficulty, but because caregivers should not have to face every uncertainty alone.

What matters most

When John was still able to express his thoughts clearly, Kim asked him what he wanted his purpose to be in the time ahead.

His answer came immediately.

"Every day for the rest of my life, I want my daughters to know how much I love them," he told her.

Kim recalled becoming emotional.

"I did, too," John said.

That exchange captured something essential about John. For all his intellectual curiosity and love of learning, what mattered most to him was the people he loved.

John and Kim raised two daughters, and family has remained central to their lives. As John's illness advanced, time with their daughters continued to hold special significance. Even when he could no longer participate in conversations as he once had, their presence could bring a smile to his face and light to his eyes.

For Kim, these moments have become especially precious.

They are reminders that a person’s ability to communicate is not the measure of that person’s capacity to matter to others or of the meaning that remains in a relationship.

For Kim, the work of caregiving has changed. She can no longer rely on John to tell her what he needs or make decisions alongside her. She must draw on what she knows of him, the wishes he expressed when he could and the knowledge accumulated over a lifetime together.

"It is a profound responsibility, carried one decision and one moment at a time," said Kim.

The meaning of being present

Kim and John built a life together over nearly four decades of marriage, sharing adventures, raising their daughters, traveling, learning and tending to the places they loved.

They did not always approach life in the same way. John was analytical and intellectually driven; Kim brought a different set of strengths to their partnership. Over time, they learned from each other and built a relationship grounded in respect, humor and a shared commitment to doing their best for the people they loved.

Dementia has changed the circumstances of their life together, but it has not made that history less meaningful.

Now, as John approaches the end of his life, Kim's attention is focused on his comfort and on honoring the wishes he expressed when he could still make them known.

The work is quieter than it once was. There are fewer conversations and fewer opportunities to share the thoughts that once passed so easily between them.

But there is still the possibility of connection: sitting together, holding hands, playing familiar music and offering reassurance.

Kim has learned that caregiving is not always about finding a solution or making something better. Sometimes it is about recognizing what a person needs in the moment and responding with patience and love.

That understanding extends beyond dementia. It speaks to the experience of caring for someone whose needs have become greater than their ability to express them, and to the responsibility of preserving dignity when independence is no longer possible.

A shared commitment to families

Kim's experience is a reminder that families' needs change as dementia progresses — and that access to support remains essential.

Through its strategic alliance with the Alzheimer's Association, Edward Jones helps make that support possible while advancing research toward a future without Alzheimer's and other dementia. This year, its associates, clients and family members are once again coming together at Walk to End Alzheimer's to put that commitment into action.

The Association is grateful for Edward Jones' continued dedication to families like the Webbs, through the challenges of caregiving and the moments of connection that mean so much.

Help advance research and help more families find support. Start or join an Edward Jones Walk to End Alzheimer's team at alz.org/edwardjones.