Dr. Kristie Wood
Researching memory, meaning, and relationships in dementia care
We are living in a time where one in nine people over 65 are living with dementia. One in six people know someone living with dementia.
It’s affecting most people in some way or another. It’s a public health concern.
But, that’s not initially what drew me into studying dementia.
After graduating from UC Berkeley with a BA in Cognitive Neuroscience and minor in Creative Writing, my first research position was at UC San Francisco, where I analyzed brain-behavior relationships and fMRI data. I was curious about how reward processing and decision-making changes with each type of dementia.
What ended up captivating me, was how people living with dementia started to shift in personality and emotional expression. This affected their closest relationships. I noticed how spouses or adult children—the people closest to the person living with dementia—sometimes began to feel like strangers.
I wondered, How does it feel when your parent—who’s seen your whole life—no longer knows who you are? Or when your spouse is sitting right next to you, but feels a thousand miles away?
Something about these questions gripped me and never let go.
Earning my PhD in Counseling Psychology from UT Austin and now as a Research Fellow at the University of Colorado Anschutz Medical Campus, I’ve dedicated my career to understanding how relationships change when someone you love develops dementia. Specifically, I study how friends and family navigate the painful loss of emotional closeness and recognition.
In fact, I conducted the first known research study on what it feels like to be forgotten by a parent with dementia—despite how common the experience is. This work centers the emotional lives of relatives whose pain is often invisible in clinical conversations. It was recently featured in The New York Times.
The story my research tells is this: When validation and connection disappear in a relationship that once anchored your identity, it can leave you feeling “almost like you don’t exist.”
Research shows that this need to feel seen and validated by a parent (or close other) is present in infancy. It's how we are wired.
The need to be seen—to feel like you still matter—doesn’t go away when a loved one has dementia. In fact, it often gets harder.
Alongside my research, I’m also mesmerized by visual storytelling. I produced a short documentary, Face to Face, which explores connection in dementia caregiving, created to help families feel seen and understood.
Whether through film, writing, therapeutic work with clients, or science, my goal is the same: to put words to what often goes unspoken—to see the beauty and the profundity in navigating a world where people get this devastating disease called dementia. And yes, sometimes to even crack a smile at the sheer absurdity that shows up when you’re trying to make sense of something senseless.
Even in the hardest moments, there’s still room for meaning, connection, and the strength of being human together.
If you’d like to follow along—whether for the research, the reflections, or just to feel a little less alone—feel free to sign up for my newsletter or connect with me on social media. I’d love to stay in touch.