Loving in the moment
By Bisi Cameron Yee

Kathryn Bailey looks out the window of her Williamsburg home. Diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease five years ago, Kathryn relies on her husband of 73 years and her granddaughter who lives next door to enable her to stay in the home that she loves.

A small brick house sits on a newly-mown meadow. A tractor, dusted with fresh grass clippings, rests in a shed. A feral orange cat sits on a low wall and thoughtfully licks his paw. The old foaling barn still stands, dwarfed by the ridge that rises above the property, now decked in all the glory of autumn. Kathryn and Ed Bailey, married 73 years, sit in the shade of the carport near the kitchen door, listening to the wind stir the three sets of chimes that hang from hooks below the carport roof.

“We’re Kentucky people,” Kathryn proclaims, eyes sparkling, voice firm.

“Yes, yes, we are Kentucky people,” Ed responds in his gentle, soothing voice.

“Have to go home before long,” Kathryn says forcefully, despite the fact that the door to the house she raised a family in, the house she and Ed built together 66 years ago, is just a few steps behind her.

Ed reaches out and touches her arm through her quilted bed jacket. She settles back in her chair.
“Home’s not a place,” he says. “Home’s a time.”

About five years ago, Kathryn was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease, and since then, Ed has dedicated his life to her care. But at 91 years of age, it isn’t easy. And, as the disease progresses, it gets even harder.

Their granddaughter, Brandi Mullis, lives next door, and the support she provides is a blessing and a lifeline to Ed and Kathryn. She can be there in an instant – to help with dishes, to bring Kathryn flowers, to give Ed a rare moment of respite.

Ed and Kathryn both grew up in Whitley County when coal and farming were the primary industries.

Ed’s father, Virgil, was a Harlan County coal miner, injured in the mines. He moved to Whitley County and founded Bailey’s Country Store, a local institution that he passed on to his three sons. His mother opened Mae’s Cafe in downtown Williamsburg.

Kathryn’s family were early settlers in the area. They farmed tobacco and were known for erecting the first three-story building on Main Street.

Ed still remembers the shy farm girl he met when he was in the 7th grade.

The couple married while Ed was on leave from the Navy. After his service, they bought land, built a home, raised cattle, horses and a family. Kathryn worked the farm alongside Ed, and sometimes they would ride horses in the mountains.

The farm is smaller now, some of the land sold off to support a more modern Williamsburg, with its growing university, its waterpark and casino, and its trucks passing through on the surrounding highways.

The commitment, the abiding love they still share is strong, perhaps stronger than the day they said their vows.

“She’s just so sweet and tender,” Ed says. “We’re having our tender moments still.”

Kathryn offers Ed a bite of the ice cream bar she opened as they were sitting down for their morning meal. "I guess ice cream for breakfast if she wants it is fine," Ed says.

Kathryn and Ed share a smile as they stand for a photo on the land where they have lived since 1966. They both enjoy their privacy and the wildlife they see despite being a stone's throw from downtown Williamsburg. "We have a mother deer now," Ed says. "She has three babies, and it's so pretty to watch them early in the morning. There'll be a fog coming up and the deer coming up and the geese coming in and my goodness that's pretty."

Ed watches Kathryn from a distance as she sweeps leaves from the carport. "She was always the steadying force of our family. She was the strength of our family. I didn't know how much until this started."

Ed and Kathryn married in April 1952 while Ed was on a two-week leave from the Navy. The couple had been dating since they were in eighth grade.

Kathryn uses the railing to steady herself while Ed follows behind, ensuring that she is safe when her footing may be uneven. Both of them have had several falls, once even falling together. Ed says he feels fortunate that neither have sustained any significant injuries.

Brandi Mullis holds her grandmother Kathryn's hands before she leaves at the end of a visit. Brandi, who lives next door to her grandparents, said the family was aware early on that Kathryn was losing her memory. "There were times I'm sure where it seemed like it was a normal day, she said. "But then sundowners …or she’ll forget something. But we knew."

Kathryn sits alone at the shaded picnic table at her home as the stress of a full day overwhelms her. "I always heard the old saying - the strongest force of water in the world is a woman’s tears. And for me it's true. It just melts my heart when she cries," Ed says.

Ed and Kathryn share a quiet moment at the beauty salon. Ed says Kathryn is his #1 priority and he is dedicated to seeing her through the course of her disease. "I want her to be happy. She deserves that. She earned it."

Ed and Kathryn share a tender moment after breakfast. While Alzheimer's has changed the dynamics of their relationship, the small, familiar gestures formed in 73 years of marriage remain a testament to the love they still share.