Why we’re “all in” on preserving dignity with design
The impact of dementia on Jordan’s life
I keep a deck of playing cards in my house that I’ll never play with again. This is not because I don’t want to, but because I can’t. You see, this particular deck is missing a very special card - the Ace of Hearts. To most, it’s a worthless and incomplete deck - but to me, it serves as a holder of memories. It’s a constant reminder of the many laughs I shared with my grandma until her final days.
Jordan and Grandma Beads at his high school graduation.
Lovingly referred to as “Grandma Beads,” she was always known for two things: her bold personality and her jewelry - she wore both everywhere she went! Born in 1919 and raised a farmer, my grandma was tough. This was no-doubt a reason she lived to the age of 98. After my grandpa passed in 1997, she remained on their 86-acre farm for nearly a decade, fiercely proud of her independence and ability to care for herself.
Around 2011, we started to notice the occasional mental slip. At first, we chalked it up to aging, but as they grew more frequent and severe, concern set in. She began struggling with short-term memory, and we feared for her safety—forgotten medications and appliances left on, the potential for dangerous situations was ever growing. Seeking help and answers, we soon received the diagnosis: dementia.
I was in my early 20s at the time, unaware of what that truly meant. This was my first real experience with this type of cognitive condition. She moved into an assisted living facility, maintaining as much independence as possible. As her needs increased, they provided more structured support, but her decline was swift.
Over the next few years, I watched my once sharp-as-a-tack grandma lose her mental capabilities. What started as asking repeat questions evolved into struggling with everyday tasks. It amazed me how she could recall events from 50 years ago yet retell the same story just moments apart.
Eventually, Grandma Beads needed more care and moved into the Alzheimer’s unit of a local nursing home. This facility specialized in caring for people with more severe cognitive decline. I’ll never forget the first time she didn’t know who I was. Harder still was watching my dad and his siblings face the heartbreaking reality that their mother no longer recognized them.
Jordan visiting Grandma Beads during the holiday season, while she lived at the nursing home.
But every time we visited, one of her favorite things to do was play cards. This was our escape from the emotions that often accompanied visits, a distraction welcomed by all. While she used to be a card shark in strategic games like 500 Rummy, we eventually boiled it down to “who has the higher card?” Somehow, she never lost! ;)
As the dementia progressed and stole so much, it never took her love for the game or her ability to recognize numbers and suits. Some of my fondest memories include her hardy laugh as she won a hand and scooped the pile of cards her way. Even when others were dealt a king, she’d somehow flip an ace as if she had it up her sleeve, waiting for just the right opportunity.
After several years battling her condition, Grandma Beads passed away in 2017. As we laid her peacefully to rest, I tucked that Ace of Hearts up her sleeve one final time.
In the years since her passing I've learned that my family is not alone. With so many people impacted by dementia, this painful experience has become all-too familiar. By some estimates, more than 20% of people over age 95 have dementia.
Fast forward to today. I’ve been with Slide UX for six years after a career as a teacher. In 2022, I joined the partnership team with Erin, Brant, Megan, and Tom. Like many agencies, we’ve long struggled to define our niche. That ends now.
So what changed? When Erin and Megan shared their deeply personal connection to Alzheimer’s Disease through a rare genetic mutation, we realized that our leadership team had ties much deeper than business partnership. Brant and Tom’s experiences with traumatic brain injuries, paired with my story add to our shared purpose. We’re united, we’ve put our cards on the table, and now it’s time we play the hands we were dealt.
Our mission is clear. We’re turning our personal experiences and design expertise into something meaningful—creating digital experiences that prioritize empathy and dignity for all those impacted by cognitive impairment.
We’re all in. This isn’t just work. It’s passion and it’s personal.
