The dementia was affecting his work life.

But his colleagues chalked it up to George just becoming forgetful.

Then came that fateful drive to the McNab Street terminal.

"He didn't know at the time, but I was hysterical," Karyn said, adding she called George's sister who was close friends with a neurologist.

After an extensive 12-hour assessment, George got the word last November. On the same day, he was told he would have to retire from his career and from football.

"That was the hardest part for me," George said about having to hang up the whistle. But he had already left the game because he didn't want to "disgrace" three decades of on-field work.

Officiating was his passion. Once during a job interview, he was asked why he did it. He said because he enjoyed it.

But on the drive home, he chided himself for not coming up with a better answer.

"I thought 'what should I have said?' And I remember these words like it was yesterday. I should have said, 'I do this to be a part of a game I love, a game I was never good enough to play. But I found a way to participate. I can go out each week, challenge my body and mind and if I do that to the best of my ability, I can make it a better game.'"

He ended up getting the job anyway.

The last time he officially donned the stripes was for a university contest in September 2013. He was coaxed back onto the field this past June for the annual Steel City Bowl exhibition game of high school stars with is Hamilton colleagues.

"I miss it terribly," he said. "My first OUA game was at Les Prince Field and it was Ottawa and Mac. It was 1989."

Monaco, the former president of the Hamilton official's association, recalls the night last December when George broke the news to his colleagues that he had to retire and why.

"People were in tears," Monaco recalls of that evening at the Police Association hall on Upper Wellington Street, when the local officials retired Montani's number. "It just hit us that hard. You don't expect that in such a young man."

Monaco said Montani's reputation as an official is known Canada-wide.

"Everyone knows George and everyone appreciated his ability on the field and his capability," he said.

"My father always said to me, 'whenever you get to some place, you try and make it better,'" George said of having an impact on local football players.

"The biggest emotion was probably anger more than anything," George said of dealing with the disease. He takes pride in explaining how he still lives a very normal life. He is on medication to help slow his brain's deterioration, but he is extremely fit and continues to walk 10 kilometres a day. His long-term memory is impeccable. He eats well and sleeps well. He looks 10 years younger than his 57. He is still involved in timekeeping football, although he will likely relinquish those duties next year.

"I'm positive about the future. And I'm doing everything that I can do," George said. Still, he admits to the fact he often asks "Why me?"

"A lot. I think 'Why me?' Right? How did this happen to me? I don't know. I had never even heard of anyone getting it. One of the things that can happen to me is I can lose the ability to speak, which would be devastating to me. I try and do things that challenge my mind."

Karyn, who worked four years in a retirement home after battling cancer and worked with residents suffering from dementia, has some understanding of the disease.

He wants to stay George Montani for as long as he can.

"There is no preparation for this. To be honest, I'd rather go through cancer than go through this. Because — I don't want to say there is no hope — but there is no hope," she said.

"There is no cure and there is no hope. What there is is the Alzheimer's Society does the work of angels. … We have been blessed in the fact you can live a very good life.

"We're in a position where we can retire. We're not going to live well; we have to sell the house. I can drive. We can carry on and put a roof over our heads and live reasonably well and whatever. That is fantastic for us. There are a lot of people not as blessed as we are and it is an extraordinarily devastating illness to get at middle age. People are told they can't work. The resources are not there. It can be devastating on all levels," she said.

George considers his prognosis. He has an approach. He wants to stay George Montani for as long as he can.

"Yeah. That's well put. That's exactly what I want. I want to stay my personality.

"Live every day as if it were my last," he said.

"I want to focus. I want to stay the way I am for as long as I can, right?"

Reprinted with permission of the Metroland Media

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