After memory loss: He proposed, she said yes, again
Every time Linda Feldman visits her husband, Michael O’Reilley, in memory care, he falls in love with her again.
He has Alzheimer’s and does not remember their nearly four decades of marriage — only the feeling that they belong together. So he proposes, again and again. And Linda always says yes.
The couple’s story shows what Alzheimer’s can take – and what it often leaves behind. It’s a familiar story to many: Alzheimer’s disease affects more than 7 million people age 65 and over in America, according to the Alzheimer’s Association.
Feldman and O’Reilley met while serving as Alameda County public defenders. She remembers watching him in the courtroom and feeling charmed by his style, cadence, and presence — a feeling that was mutual. He told her he fell in love the day they met.
“He had a gift,” Feldman said, recalling the days she’d watch him at work.
They began dating. Both were recently divorced, each with young children from previous marriages. O’Reilley brought up marriage repeatedly, but for a while, Feldman was not interested. That would change.
One night, after the pair had been living together for some time, a stranger rang the doorbell asking for jumper cables for his stalled car. Feldman went to the door but, wary for her safety, spoke to him through the glass.
“I’ll ask my husband,” she told him.
Moments later, O’Reilley’s oldest daughter bolted toward the door, shouting, “They’re not married!”
The moment marked a shift.
“And I said, ‘You know what, maybe we should get married,’” she said.
A few weeks later, O’Reilley got down on one knee in the kitchen. They were married 38 years ago.
As their lives became more intertwined, the two helped each other on cases, raised a blended family of three children and traveled often. O’Reilley brought two daughters to the marriage; Feldman had a son. When they weren’t in courtrooms, they were catching planes around the world, from Israel to Chile to Ireland. For years, their life together followed an easy rhythm.
That rhythm began to break more than a decade ago, when O’Reilley was in his early 60s and his wife began to notice signs of Alzheimer’s disease. His speech changed, he wandered, and he struggled with tasks he once did effortlessly. As his condition gradually worsened, he was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. That was around 15 years ago.
Before Alzheimer’s, O’Reilley led a full professional life. He wrote two books, served as a reserve officer, and taught at California State University East Bay. Now, even the most basic routines challenged him.
“It was hard for him to give up driving,” Feldman said.
As O’Reilley’s independence slipped away, Feldman became his primary caregiver. She worried he would leave the house and get lost, and so she rarely left herself, a narrowing that led to increasing isolation. She began seeing her friends less. It was then that Feldman realized she needed to make a decision that served them both.
O’Reilley has now lived at The Ivy at Berkeley facility for 7 months. The facility opened its memory care unit, which currently serves 24 residents, in June 2025. Executive director Angeles Sticka said the decision to open the unit came as more families sought help after realizing they could no longer safely care for loved ones with dementia at home.
“I knew he’d benefit from being in a communal setting,” Feldman said about the difficult decision. The structured activities at the facility meant she could worry less.
Feldman visits her husband at least twice a week, sometimes bathing him, sometimes eating lunch together in the dining hall, sometimes playing mini golf or reading letters from volunteers.
He proposed to Feldman, again, during a November visit. She called Sticka afterward, giddy, as if the two were still dating.
“It was such a touching moment for everyone,” Sticka said. “I asked her how she was going to celebrate, and she said she wanted to borrow a room here for a wedding.”
The team at the Ivy at Berkeley coordinated the wedding logistics, and on Jan. 10, Feldman and O’Reilley walked down the aisle again, surrounded by friends and family. In the background, a harp played soft chords as camera shutters clicked and the couple shared a kiss.
“This love is so unique,” Sticka said. “I saw an opportunity for this beautiful moment.”
Moments like these reflect what Alzheimer’s often erases – and what it does not.
Vanessa Souza, a senior manager of community engagement at the Alzheimer’s Association in Northern California, said that Alzheimer’s typically affects short-term memory first. People may forget what they watched the night before, but still recall trips they took years earlier or the emotional patterns of long-standing relationships.
“When you’re in a close relationship for a long time, there’s a lot of emotional memory,” Souza said. “That doesn’t disappear all at once.”
Many aspects of the disease can be a tough adjustment for families, said Souza, including changes in communication. In the early stages, it can look like trying to speak but using the wrong words.
In O’Reilley and Feldman’s case, he will often say something incoherent, and she responds by nodding and affirming him, making her best inference about what he might mean. Souza said approaches like that help preserve a person’s sense of dignity and connection.
It’s a common misconception that everyone with Alzheimer’s will forget their loved ones, said Souza. Even when recognition fades, people may remember how someone makes them feel.
“Memory loss does not affect your capacity to love and be loved,” Souza said.
On a recent visit, that emotional connection was undeniable.
Feldman was seated in the common area of The Ivy at Berkeley when O’Reilley walked in, accompanied by a staff member. As soon as he saw her, a grin spread across his face. Feldman opened her arms. He walked toward her, mirroring the gesture. The two gazed at each other before sharing a kiss and settling into a long embrace.
He no longer speaks coherently. But there is one sentence that still comes out clearly.
“I love you, Linda,” he said.