Hector
Elizondo is a Tony
Award winning
Broadway star and
well-renowned
television and movie
actor, appearing in
television programs
including Chicago
Hope, The Rockford
Files and Monk and
movies such as
American Gigolo and
Pretty Woman. He has
also been a conga
player with a Latin
band, a classical
guitarist and
singer, a
weightlifting coach,
a ballet dancer, as
well as family
caregiver. Elizondo
spent years as a
caregiver to his
mother who was
living with
Alzheimer’s disease,
as well as a support
to his dad who was
the family’s primary
caregiver. He
has become an
enthusiastic
caregiving advocate,
traveling the nation
talking about the
needs of Alzheimer’s
caregivers.
Editor-in-Chief Gary
Barg sat down with
this multi-talented
entertainer for a
wide-ranging
conversation about
topics near and dear
to his heart.
Gary
Barg:
What were the first
signs of your
mother’s Alzheimer’s
disease?
Hector
Elizondo:
The first signs of
her illness were
very subtle; just
forgetfulness, the
usual stuff, the
shopping list, the
keys, and then a
pattern started to
emerge.
Realizing that now
in retrospect, back
then it was, “Oh
Mom, please, you
asked that question
before, you know, a
half hour ago.” But
the first real red
flag was when she
lost her way in her
neighborhood.
GB:
They used
to call Alzheimer’s
pre-senile dementia.
HE:
That’s what she was
diagnosed with.
She was diagnosed
with pre-senile
dementia. We
had no idea what the
heck it meant, quite
frankly, we had no
idea what she had.
No one had any idea
about anything and
my father, of
course, was the
primary caregiver.
He’s the one who
took the brunt of
the 24/7 care. You
can imagine,
especially in the
Latino culture, you
take care of your
own; you don’t go
outside of it.
And that’s not
uncommon for many
other cultures
except in the
contiguous United
States perhaps; you
just took care of
your own.
There was no thought
of doing it
otherwise; but
again, there was no
thought of doing it
otherwise because we
had no other
options. We
had no information.
There are many
aspects of culture
that make that up.
My father would say,
“This is something
I’ve done.”
“I’m being paid
back.”
GB:
He blamed himself.
HE:
Yes, of course, oh
yes. “It must have
been something I’ve
done. Why is
this happening?”
And I always thought
living the life
isn’t enough?
Isn’t that hard
enough? I
mean, someone has to
impose this
punishment on you?
GB: Where did
he reach out?
According to a
Stanford University
study a few years
ago, 40 percent of
Alzheimer’s
caregivers pass away
before their loved
ones do.