Lunches with Ed is a moving memoir about loving someone through dementia—through home care, nursing homes, Covid windows, final goodbyes, and the small moments that never let go. At what point did you realize this story might help others beyond your own family?
I realized that this story may help others when an unbiased associate read it and became so emotional she called me up in tears expressing how deeply the book touched her. I later found out that she was in the midst of caring for her husband and the book was a comfort to her.
How did your understanding of love change as Ed’s dementia progressed?
I came to really understand the meaning of “in sickness and health”, “for better or worse”. Marital love does not just end because your spouse gets ill. Ed was the same person I loved and he needed me more now than ever. The journey has made me more empathetic and caring.
How did you balance honoring Ed’s dignity while sharing the strange or disorienting behaviors dementia caused?
I sought to portray Ed as the kind and caring person that he always was while trying to present a true picture and not sugar-coat the ebbs and flow of daily life living with dementia. His sensitive, peaceful nature was still there hidden underneath all the confusion. I sought out the best care for him and also tried to shield him from unnecessary intrusions and visitors who were only mere acquaintances.
How do you carry Ed with you now, after telling his story
I carry him in my heart. I think of the good times we had, the laughter we shared. Whenever I think of him I find myself smiling.
When a devoted wife stepped into the role of caregiver for her husband during his journey with dementia, she found solace in journaling — capturing the routines, challenges, and quiet triumphs of daily life. What began as a private coping tool became a heartfelt guide for others walking the same path. Lunches with Ed offers practical insights born from lived experience, not theory. It’s a gentle, honest companion for those navigating the emotional terrain of caregiving — validating the sadness, frustration, and fear that often come with it, while also celebrating the moments of laughter, connection, and unexpected joy. Compact and comforting, this book is designed to be kept close — on a nightstand, in a purse, or tucked into a drawer — ready to remind caregivers that they are not alone. Above all, it’s a tribute to the enduring love that caregiving calls forth, and the strength found in showing up, day after day.
Lunches with Ed tells the story of a woman caring for her husband as dementia slowly changes every corner of their shared life. The book follows Judy Collier’s journey from the first troubling signs to the caregiving years at home, the painful decision to move Ed to long-term care, the strange mix of heartbreak and sweetness in her daily visits, and finally the peaceful end of his life. She lays out the memories through stories, journal entries, and reflections that show love staying steady even as everything else slips away.
The writing feels simple at first, almost like someone talking to a friend over coffee, yet that is exactly what makes it so strong. The plainness pulls you in. You start to feel the fear she tries to hide and the way she keeps moving anyway. There were moments that made me laugh because they felt so human and odd, like Ed grouping his grapes into sets of four or insisting his license was locked in the doctor’s desk. Then I’d turn a page and feel my chest tighten when he wandered outside in the middle of the night or when she held window visits during the long months of Covid. The emotional swings felt real. They felt like life. I found myself pausing often just to sit with it.
What stayed with me most was how she writes about devotion. Not as some grand thing but as a series of small acts that never stop. Holding his hand while he sleeps. Feeding him when he forgets how. Talking to shadows in the corner because it eased his fear. None of it feels dramatic. It feels steady and warm and a little exhausting and also brave in a quiet way. The journal entries hit me especially hard. They show the rhythm of her days shifting between hope and dread. They show how love keeps showing up even when the person you love is drifting somewhere you cannot follow. I felt myself rooting for both of them and sometimes whispering a little prayer under my breath because the truth of it all was so heavy.
I closed the book with a mix of sadness and gratitude. Sadness because the story is real, and loss is real. Gratitude because the author chose to share something so personal and because her honesty might make someone else feel less alone. I would recommend Lunches with Ed to caregivers, family members walking through dementia, readers drawn to memoir, and anyone who wants a reminder that tenderness still matters in hard seasons.
