Last month, my very dear friend Alyson Kuhn, a.k.a. my postal muse, published a book—independently, which I have just learned is different than self-published—with gerontologist Jane Mahakian, titled I hear you. The subtitle, Talking and listening to people with Alzheimer's, poignantly previews their book’s subject.

I ordered my copy from my local bookseller, although I hear you is also available on Amazon and Barnes & Noble. Nobody in my family or inner circle is living with Alzheimer’s, but reading the book made the reality or prospect of caring for someone with dementia seem less daunting. I think that all of us can relate to the stories that Alyson and Dr. Jane share. I recently had a chance to ask Alyson a few questions about co-authoring this book and about the book’s production, design and—Alyson being Alyson—its papery accessorizing.

At what point did the idea for writing this book together begin to percolate with you and Dr. Jane?

I met Dr. Jane when it became prudent to move my mother from her home of slightly more than 50 years, into a memory care community. Dr. Jane master-minded the move and helped me present it to my mother in a positive light. I continued to think about ways my siblings and I could make our mother as comfortable and confident as possible in her new environment. That said, challenges and even dramas arose, and my fingers fired off impassioned emails to Dr. Jane over a couple of years. She and I realized we could write something together that would help a lot of people, and we started working on our vignettes. But I discovered I didn’t want to publish anything about dementia while my mother was still alive, even though she wouldn’t have been aware of it.

So then what happened?

My mother lived gracefully with dementia for over a decade, and a couple of years after her death, I got back in touch with Dr. Jane. She still had her print-outs of our vignettes in a manila folder and knew exactly where it was in her office. We both considered that auspicious!

I’d describe the design of your book as friendly and delightful, even comforting. How did you and Dr. Jane decide on your format and layout?

We wanted the book to feel accessible, not heavy or scary. Our designer, Sheri Kuniyuki, and I have worked together on many projects. She is an attentive reader herself, and saw the book’s design as a big opportunity to make its content more appealing. Dr. Jane and I hope that readers treat their books somewhat like a manual: make notes, underline things, even snap photos of specific bits.

Having responsibility for someone with dementia is a heavy load, though your book describes most scenarios with such clarity and lightness. Is there a downside you didn’t write about?

I think two things contributed to our generally upbeat tone: First, Dr. Jane’s 30-plus years of managing the care of people with dementia. She is incredibly skilled not only at talking and listening to her patients, but also at problem-solving for them and their families. Second was my unexpected knack for keeping my mother’s evolving needs and desires front-and-center. That said, the downsides of dementia are sobering and can be overwhelming, but the more of us—people without dementia—who become comfortable talking and listening to people with dementia, the fuller their lives will be. And the less “socially disappeared” they will be.

I’d love for you to share the backstory on the accessories for I hear you.

And I’d love to. Sheri designed a “reversible” bookmark that both Dr. Jane and I could use. Particularly because of the pandemic, I didn’t anticipate any book signings in the near term, and I wanted a way to personalize books for certain people. I also wanted to be able to include a message, not just a signature. The Official Bookmark becomes a little keepsake, and it allows a reader to loan or gift his or her book to someone else, without angst over giving up an autographed copy.

The bookmark was letterpress printed on heavy card stock (that feeds smoothly through my typewriter) at Full Circle Press in Grass Valley, California. I’ve known the proprietress, Judith Berliner, for almost 25 years, and she suggested that I have a companion notecard, which could run on the same press sheet. So, I came up with “You are hearing...from me,” and Sheri designed the Official Notecard. Then, because I would be sending book-related mail, I decided to have a return-address rubber stamp for I hear you. Sheri has designed stamps in this format for me, and for mutual friends and clients, for many years, so this is the latest in a long line.

Any other accessorizing decisions?

Of course! I’m using a Pilot purple disposable fountain pen to sign the bookmark and notecard, and to address most of the envelopes in which I’m mailing these. Unfortunately, I don’t feel the current Alzheimer’s stamp evokes the spirit of our book, so I’m using other stamps, usually in a pair or trio, like the classic mail transportation stamps (from 1989) on the envelope I sent you. The “brainy” 32¢ Fulbright Scholarship stamps from 1996 are great as a pair; I’m also enjoying using three of the new Brush Rabbit second ounce (currently worth 20¢) stamps in a corner configuration. I’m also doing that with Bradbury Thompson’s LOVE and his ABC–XYZ stamps. The clerks at my local post offices are great about doing a single round-date that cancels all three stamps.

The actual Alzheimer’s stamp is a semi-postal, meaning that it costs more than a Forever stamp, and the surcharge goes toward Alzheimer’s research. I would love to be supporting that, but until there is an Alzheimer’s stamp whose mood comes closer to that of I hear you, I’ll continue finding other stamps. For now, I’m overfranking for art and the USPS!

Speaking of finding, how can people find out more about what’s in your book?

Via Zoom! On April 7 (at 9 a.m. PDT), Dr. Jane and I will be the speakers on a Commonwealth Club program. You can read more and register here. And on May 7 (at 4 p.m. PDT), I will be speaking under the auspices of the Monterey Public Library. That is the Friday before Mothers Day, and I will make the point that twice as many mothers as fathers develop Alzheimer’s. The library event is free (by advance registration), and details will be posted here shortly. I’m profoundly grateful and equally excited.

Musing, Bari