Losing Max

Photographs by Sarah Leen

Bert Greenberg reads to her husband, Max.

EDITOR'S NOTE: Losing Max is Sarah Leen's timeless story about Max Greenberg that she photographed for the Philadelphia Inquirer Magazine. Published on December 1, 1985, it is a story as much about Max's caregiver, his wife Bert, as it is about Max losing his self-identity. After 35 years of marriage, and now caring for a partner who can't recognize himself in the mirror, Bert is fighting to keep caring for him at home—even if she has to remind him every day what her name is.

Losing Max

published December 1, 1985

Since the first symptoms of Alzheimer's disease appeared eight years ago, Max Greenberg has lost the ability to play dominoes, carry on a simple conversation, or find his way around his Bucks County, Pennsylvania, apartment. As he walks through his home, the rooms vanish behind him like soap bubbles. For him, nothing exists but here and now. Feeding himself, going to the bathroom, even recognizing himself in a mirror takes all his concentration.

The one person Max does recognize consistently is "Mommy," which is what he now calls his wife of 35 years. When his wife, Bert, is away at work or out shopping, and Max is left at home with the woman Bert hires to care for him in her absence, Max sits patiently at the window asking over and over, "Where's Mommy?"

Bert loves Max fiercely. She fights to keep him at home with her as long as possible and to preserve what's left of his mind. "What's our address?" she quizzes him. "What's our phone number?" When he answers, she says "Good. Very good."

"It's part of my marriage vows," she says. "...if I ever have to institutionalize him, it would devastate me.... I'm going to fight like hell."

Still, if Max's case follows the norm, the day will come when Bert can no longer care for him at home.

This is something Bert can't think about.

Max Greenberg is 69 years old. He has forgotten his life.

Max stands in the room where the family pictures are kept, confused by the photographs of himself, his wife, and other relatives.

Max suffers from irrational fears, including the fear that his wife, Bert, will leave him. When this happens she holds him close and comforts him like a child.

Bert: "I used to work with him with a calendar every night. Then it got too stressful for him, so the hell with that, can't do that to him. So that's why you see him swishing around with paint, with the crayons—to relieve that stress."

When there is no one to sit at home with Max, Bert gets him dressed and takes him along on shopping trips. These outing can be especially stressful for Max because of the unfamiliar surroundings.

Bert takes Max into the bathroom every morning and helps him shave and brush his teeth. Often, when he sees himself in the mirror, Max becomes alarmed thinking there is a stranger in the room.

"I'm in trouble. I think I'm crazy. I don't know what to do. I'm sick. I can't take care of myself. There's a pain inside my head. Mommy, Mommy"

Max's daughter, Fern, has fallen asleep while she keeps her father company while her mother is out running errands. Max sits for hours beside the bedroom window waiting for Bert to return. 

Max won't take a nap without his wife nearby. If she leaves the room, he gets up and follows.

"Max?"

"Yes."

"What's my name?"

"Mommy."

"Nope."

"Bert.""And I am your? What am I to you?"

"You're my, you're my wife."

"That's right. And your name is?"

"Max."

"Uh huh. Very Good. And you are my...?"

(he sings) "Sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are gray. You'll never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don't take my sunshine away."