Dementia-related brain changes did not alter this love of a lifetime: Flor & Raymond's story

Flor Fuentes and her husband, Raymond, came as a pair, walking the memory care facility’s hallways the way a young couple might explore a Saturday morning farmer’s market. They moved leisurely, and possessed a breezy, easygoing disposition.

Flor wore earrings, red lipstick, perhaps a button-down blouse, dark slacks and loafers. Raymond donned a collared shirt that appeared freshly starched, tucked into his belted pants. He often clasped his hands behind his back as he strolled.

At 97, Raymond still had all his thick white hair — a feature so enticing that, decades before he’d grayed, a stranger on the New York subway reached out her hand and ran her fingers through it.

Although they exuded youthful energy, there existed between them the kind of ease that is earned over many years. There was an unspoken serenity, a softness that only a seventy-year marriage affords.

“I love my wife, and that’s number one, since we got married,” Raymond said, in a video recorded in August 2023, when asked about their love’s longevity.

That clip shows Flor in a white, wide-brimmed hat affixed with yellow and white plastic flowers . She and Raymond laugh and joke, sitting side-by-side — spectators at the community center tea party.

They’d always been this way, savoring one another’s company, says their daughter, Debbie. Symptoms of dementia did not change this.

They’d spent the vast majority of their long lives together, in love.

Raymond passed away October 30, 2024, but that love remains.

Its presence is palpable, evident in the way Flor describes the man she met through family friends when she was barely 20 years old: “He was very handsome, very sweet, taking care of me.”

That love is apparent when Debbie describes how her father, usually out the door by 5:00 a.m., woke her up Saturday mornings, so that they could watch Looney Tunes cartoons together.

“I would be sitting there, half asleep, and he would be sitting there, laughing hysterically at the cartoon,” she said.

Flor, who turns 100 July 1, might not offer the details of how they met in New York, or what their first kiss was like — if you ask her if she had butterflies, she says, “I guess so,” — but she does share that she had a powerful knowing that she would spend her life with Raymond, who, like her, was born in Puerto Rico.

“I like this guy and I’m gonna get married with him,” she says, conveying the certainty she felt then.

And they did marry – July 3, 1954, in a New York City church.

They had their daughter, Debbie, nine years after they started trying for a baby, and Flor became a stay-at-home mother. Raymond was a building superintendent in Manhattan’s fur district, making the weekday commute from the Bronx.

“They just took such good care of each other,” Debbie recalls. “Dad worked very long, hard hours and Mom took care of him, me and the household. They were a good complement for each other. He appreciated all that she took care of and she appreciated what he did to take care and provide for us.”

Flor cooked, and Raymond barbecued — rice and beans were always on the table. Another staple: thinly-sliced steak and sautéed onions.

Affection might have looked like handwritten cards or small gifts.

Raymond, for instance, made the family’s “Tostones Tostonera,” a device that prepares plantains for cooking. Flor, meanwhile, often found Raymond “a little something” when she went shopping.

Mutual respect, care, and support were fundamental.

“Decisions were always made together. Everything was always discussed which led to good communication,” Debbie says. “...They were genuinely good people to each other and to everyone that came into their lives.”

They shared a deep love of Latin music and Christmas songs. That passion meant they dressed up — Flor in her kitten heels with the pointed toe — and frequented Manhattan’s Palladium club. Thye hosted and attended parties where they “danced all night long.”

“If music was playing, they were dancing,” Debbie says. “Whether (they were) at home, church, or a club.”

Sundays were dedicated to church and family time, and Raymond took month-long vacations from work so that they could visit Puerto Rico or Florida.

They lived briefly in New Mexico, but found that life moved too slowly there, and returned to New York. Raymond became a superintendent in a Bronx retirement home, and the family moved into an apartment there.

He supervised security personnel, landscapers, and the restaurant supervisor, and Flor worked in the restaurant a few days a week.

“I grew up there,” Debbie says, recalling the time she spent in the community’s craft and billiard rooms. She even got married in the facility.

They moved to Casselberry, and then Altamonte, after Raymond retired. They spent a lot of time with their granddaughter, Kim.

“Mom was the first to show signs of dementia,” Debbie says. “Loss of memory, forgetfulness. Repetition of questions. I took her to be diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. Dad did the best that he could dealing with this and over time became sad knowing the way that she was then and in the present. It was not easy for him and he always talked with me about it.”

“He managed to continue to take care of her but his worrying about her and realistically, the continual repetition of the same questions from Mom began to also affect him,” she continues. “Eventually, I strongly feel that my being diagnosed with cancer and their worrying about me made them both progress quicker. Again Dad took the best care of her that he could but over time in the last couple of years his anxiety about her made his symptoms progress faster than hers.”

Flor’s symptoms plateaued, but Raymond’s progressed.

“At times she could see what was happening to him now, and would tell me how worried she was about him, but ultimately they continued to take care of each other,” Debbie says. “Their love for each other was always how they got through things.”

In a video recorded October 22, 2023, Raymond and Flor contemplated the secret to a long, happy marriage.

“We had a beautiful life,” Raymond said.

“That comes without you noticing,” Flor said. “One day at a time.”

“That comes slowly,” Raymond agreed.

In the Maitland memory care facility where they lived, they continued nurturing that love. They danced at the Valentine’s Day Ball, took their daily walks, and attended group outings.

In a video from one such trip, the couple sings “Can’t Help Falling

in Love.”

Flor wears a long blue cardigan, her arm around her husband, clad in flannel. Flor points at the camera as she croons, and they laugh.

However they changed during their lifetime together, that love was their steady constant. That love is what remains.