A Thousand Tomorrows[1995,
30 min.]
A Thousand Tomorrows examines the impact of Alzheimer's Disease on the
dynamics of spousal intimacy and sexuality. Two middle-aged couples and two couples
over 65 share their stories. The spouses feel trapped in one-way relationships.
One couple's increased sexual activity reflects their ability to maintain a high
level of intimacy in their relationship; but another woman is frustrated by her
spouse's sexual aggressiveness. All couples seek to recover and/or maintain feelings
of intimacy in their relationship.
Introduction
The topic of Alzheimer's Disease has been covered
from numerous perspectives in film and video documentaries. Many documentaries
have examined the effects of the disease on the sufferers as well as family
members. A Thousand Tomorrows breaks new ground by examining the ways
in which the dynamics of spousal intimacy and sexuality are affected by the
onset of Alzheimer's Disease. In this sensitive documentary two middle-aged
couples, and two couples over 65, share their stories. One of the strengths
of this documentary is the way simple images of the caregivers and their loved
ones communicate their shared experiences: a couple taking a walk and examining
the petals of a flowering tree, a couple folding laundry, a couple holding hands,
a couple setting the kitchen table. At the same time the images remind viewers
that the dynamics of these relationships have been inextricably strained by
the realities of Alzheimer's Disease. These images are charged with tension:
viewers can't help but notice the vacant or distracted looks on the faces of
Alzheimer's sufferers, their awkward laughter when sexuality is discussed, their
inability to discuss their fears relating to the loss of intimacy. Their spouses
feel trapped in one-way relationships. What happens to spousal roles? One woman
explains, "I seem to have moved from wife to mother." Another says,
"It's hard to be lovers and also a caregiver." A third characterizes
her role as "caretaking." Another strength of this video is the sustained
coverage of each couple's story. Other documentaries provide brief, fragmented
glimpses of caregivers as their stories are compared through editing. But this
approach often lacks continuity and provides little depth or insight into the
subtleties of interpersonal relationships. In A Thousand Tomorrows the
four stories are told consecutively, and each story is given time to unfold
so that viewers can become acquainted with the idiosyncrasies of each person
and the context of each couple's interactions. The video's director, James Vanden
Bosch, used the same approach effectively in an earlier documentary, My Mother,
My Father (1984). In A Thousand Tomorrows spouses are shown talking
to a counselor (not to the director) in a comfortable setting in their homes.
The counselor asks good questions, presses both spouses to share details of
their interaction, and does so patiently and sensitively. Through this interaction,
issues relating to intimacy and sexuality--issues that may not arise in the
context of a support group, for instance--are discussed freely. Two of the spouses
are confronting diminished sexual activity. One woman recalls the last time
her husband and she had sex. She realized he didn't know who she was. She has
had to redefine intimacy in her relationship. Now she seizes the moment when
she "can reach in and touch and be affectionate." A second woman's
husband was diagnosed with Alzheimer's three years earlier. When the counselor
presses her to share the terms of intimacy in this relationship, she admits,
"I'm not thinking sex. I'm thinking more of what we have to do to have
the day run smoothly." The terms of intimacy for the other two spouses
are complicated by increased sexual activity on the part of the Alzheimer's
sufferer. One couple's increased sexual activity reflects their ability to maintain
a high level of intimacy in their relationship. They obviously enjoy each other's
company. They touch easily and affectionately. The husband knows his wife's
condition will worsen; but he concludes, "We'll make it as great as we
can today. If we have a hundred tomorrows, or a thousand tomorrows, then we'll
make those just as meaningful." The crisis in the relationship between
the last couple covered in the documentary is faced by the wife. Her husband
has become sexually aggressive, sometimes asking for sex several times a day.
What can she do? "It's not making love; it's having sex. . . . He's not
the same person." Yet she feels guilty when she denies him. There are no
easy answers or resolutions for any of these couples. They seek to recover and/or
maintain feelings of intimacy in their relationship, and their struggles are
honored by the sensitive approach taken in this documentary.
Pre-Viewing Notes
and Activities
- One of the strengths of this documentary is
the way simple images of the caregivers and their loved ones communicate their
shared experiences: a couple taking a walk and examining the petals of a flowering
tree, a couple folding laundry, a couple holding hands, a woman abbing at
her husband’s face with a handkerchief to dry his tears, a couple
setting the kitchen table. At the same time the images remind
viewers that the dynamics of these relationships have been inextricably strained
by the realities of Alzheimer's Disease. These images are charged with tension:
viewers can't help but notice the vacant or distracted looks on the faces
of Alzheimer's sufferers, their awkward laughter when sexuality is discussed,
their inability to discuss their fears relating to the loss of intimacy. Ask
viewers to watch for these images and consider the impact of such nonverbal
communication in the video.
- The video provides sustained coverage of each couple's story.
Other documentaries provide brief, fragmented glimpses of caregivers as their
stories are compared through editing. But this approach often lacks continuity
and provides little depth or insight into the subtleties of interpersonal
relationships. In A Thousand Tomorrows the four stories are
told consecutively, and each story is given time to unfold so that viewers
can become acquainted with the idiosyncrasies of each person and the context
of each couple's interactions. The video's director, James Vanden Bosch, used
the same approach effectively in an earlier documentary, My Mother, My
Father (1984).
- The documentary employs an "expert" in a way that
is unusual when compared to other documentaries. That is, the expert (a clinical
social worker) sits with the respondents and asks them questions only in response
to the stories they are sharing. The expert never "interprets" the
stories to viewers.
Summary of Scenes
- Three caregivers of persons with Alzheimer’s Disease
are briefly introduced. Each, in turn, comments briefly about the challenges
of maintaining intimacy in their relationships. Then Dan Kuhn, a clinical
social worker, makes an introductory comment. Quiet piano music plays in the
background throughout the introduction.
- An African-American woman, 72, talks quietly with Dan Kuhn.
She recalls the last intimate time with her husband. While they were having
sex, she thought about her husband’s part in the interaction: "You
don't really know who I am." She is articulate, and talks slowly and
deliberately. "I've always felt that sexual intimacy is as much a union
of minds as of bodies. If one half of it is gone, that destroys it all."
She remembers leaving the room abruptly, and then walking around the block.
When she came back, he wondered where she had been, and then she felt he knew
she belonged there. After that experience, their moments of intimacy became
increasingly infrequent, "until the point is now that isn't a part of
our lives anymore." Kuhn asks if she has felt sexual interest in him
anymore? She says she has those feelings, but she resists them, because "I
feel I would be taking advantage of someone." Cut to her husband playing
with a child's toy. The woman concludes, "I seem to have moved from wife
to mother." She adds, "When you're taking care of a person, and
watching over them, and taking care of all the intimate things, it takes away
from the romantic aspect of that relationship." She is shown shaving
him.
- She redefines the basis of intimacy. "It depends on
the moment. You seize the moment when you can reach in and touch and be affectionate
and take it. If you feel that is not, you have to let it go--regardless of
how you might feel." Husband and wife are shown walking on the street.
She takes his hand in hers. "You have to have an emotional shield around
you." Kuhn asks if her support group is a source of sharing concerns
about changes in intimacy and sexuality. She responds that the topic has not
come up in those meetings. Why is the topic of intimacy and sexuality so hard
to talk about? She thinks her age cohort was raised never to talk about sex
- Edna Ballard, a clinical associate in social work, notes
that for those couples who are experiencing the losses associated with Alzheimer’s
Disease, "Having an intimate relationship . . . will be even more important.
For some couples, that part of the relationship is even stronger because it
helps them cope."
- The second couple is Everett and Betty. They sit next to
each other on their sofa at home. She begins to cry in response to Kuhn’s
question—"What is it like to have Alzheimer’s Disease?"
Her husband comforts her and says, "If you don't mind a tear or two we
might have an answer here." Finally, Betty answers, "It's very frustrating."
She wipes her eyes. "I am unable to converse with people." She notes
that her children are helpful. She speaks slowly, hesitantly. Her husband
comments, "What’s been hard for Betty is to see some of these things
happening to her. She’s been a wonderful wife and a wonderful mother
and a great cook. And now all of a sudden to be burning everything or to double
the ingredients or forget to put something in or to melt a couple of teakettles."
She laughs, and he laughs too. She taps him lovingly. Cut to a scene showing
her setting the table—with Everett’s encouragement.
- Betty says, "It's better now than it used to be."
He says, "Our love for each other is stronger now than it has ever been.
I realize how much I need her." He touches her on the knee. "For
us, every day is a special day." She dabs at his face, as it to dry his
tears. "And it’s a physical love as well."
- Kuhn asks about diminished sexual desire, reported by others
in conversations based upon the different focus in the relationship.
Betty reports an increased desire. She is embarrassed and laughs. "Maybe
I'm greedy." Betty and Everett hug each other. "Keep on being greedy,
kid," Everett says. Kuhn asks, "Can you talk about that?" Betty
and Everett look at each other and smile. "You feel a greater desire
and closeness for Everett than before?" She says, "Yes."
Cut to a scene of Betty and Everett folding clothes. She holds up her bra
and covers her face with the clothing. They have a good laugh. "Did you
plant that?" she asks. They laugh again. Betty says, "I'm so excited
I can't fold the clothes."
- Back to the interview. Everett concludes, "We can give
each other to ourselves, no reservation." She concurs. "We agree
on being intimate. It's really a joy." She cries. He hugs her. Then an
outdoor scene of the two. In a voice-over Everett notes that their
good times won’t last. "We'll make it as great as we can make it
today. If we have a hundred tomorrows, or a thousand tomorrows, then we'll
make those just as meaningful too."
- The third couple is Bob and his wife. He was diagnosed with
Alzheimer’s Disease three years ago. They are shown in their kitchen.
She is cooking, and he is her helper. Then they are shown seated next to each
other at their kitchen table. His wife says, "The way I felt a year ago
was that we were living on a powder keg. You never knew if one of us was going
to explode." She admits their relationship will never be the same. "We're
closer in a lot of ways." Bob sits quietly next to his wife. His arms
are folded, and he appears uncomfortable.
- Bob’s wife summarizes some of the difficulty of responding
to the changes in her husband in the early stages of the disease. "I
never thought of myself as a person who took care of my husband." Of
course Bob looks fine—physically—but it is frustrating to know that
he won't remember anything after ten minutes. She concludes, "We are
the ones who have to change. Bob won't be able to."
- Kuhn asks about changes in the level of intimacy. Bob says,
"I never get enough of it." He laughs and begins to put his arm
around his wife. Then he draws it back. She responds, "It has changed,
due to the fact that my role has changed. It's hard to be the lover and also
the caregiver. It's not the same way—in bed, or really, very little."
She adds that she has gone through menopause in the last two years. "Yet
we do talk about it." "That’s well said," Bob interjects."
She continues, "We have a good time together." But she admits the
difficulty of her situation. "I'm not thinking sex. I'm thinking more
of what we have to do to have the day run smoothly, to make him feel good,
how that will work out." She admits that perhaps she should look somewhere
for help.
- The fourth couple is shown interacting in their kitchen.
The wife’s voice-over: "It’s hard. You’re really living
with a different person." Then she is shown sitting alone on her sofa.
She has silver hair and talks readily about their situation. "He doesn't
always know I'm his wife." In one time of confusion, he said, "Do
you want to go out sometime?" When she asked him who he thought she was,
he said, "You may be one of my wives, but you're not my only wife."
Her assessment of their relationship: "It's more of a caretaking thing."
She recalls her husband lost his job. Later, he lost all desire for sex. He
was impotent. For seven years they had no sexual relations. During this period
she had noticed no symptoms of Alzheimer’s Disease. Then they took a
vacation to Florida, and they had sex again. But a month later she noticed
symptoms of Alzheimer’s. Then a final irony: "As the memory loss
grew worse, the sexual desire increased."
- She admits, "I don't talk to my good friends about how
many times a week do you have sex." But now her husband’s activity
has become a problem. "In the last year he has become very aggressive
sexually. He's asking for sex a lot more. My body is changing, and I can not
accommodate this as much as he would like." She feels stuck. She tries
to bargain—agreeing to have sex two or three times a week. Of course,
he agrees.
- Then her husband is interviewed. "It came out of nowhere,"
he says. He praises his wife. Kuhn asks if their sexual relationship has changed
over the years. "I don't think so." His statements become general--all
of us grow old, we all have problems. "We don't have any problem with
it."
- We return to his wife. Sometimes he'll ask three times a
day. "That makes for a very tense situation." He becomes sullen,
retreats, and broods sometimes when she refuses. Then she feels guilty. "There
are so few things that give him pleasure, and how can I deny him that?"
Kuhn reassures her that sexual hyperactivity is not uncommon. The norm is
diminished sexual interest--because of the changing nature of their relationship.
He says, "Your partner has become like a stranger." She admits,
"It's not like making love. It's having sex." Kuhn asks, "Rather
mechanical?" "Really," she says. Her own sexual interest? She
admits it is decreasing. Once when she said no to one of his requests, he
said, "If you don't want to, could you find somebody else for me?""
Kuhn asks if she has thought of refusing sex. She says no. "It's not
that hard for me to help him I still love him. He's just changing.
Discussion Questions and Sample Worksheet
Text of The Great Circle
of Life: A Resource Guide to Films and Videos on Aging, copyright ©
1987, 1999, 2005, Robert E. Yahnke. All photographs copyrighted by Robert E.
Yahnke. All rights reserved. Contact author for permission to copy
photographs or reprint portions of text.