Moments Well Spent

Last week I heard my Mom fiddling with something in the corner of her room, so I went in to see if she needed assistance. She was trying to reconnect her TV, so I asked, “Mom, why did you disconnect the TV?” Frustrated, she said, “I don’t know who disconnected it.” I replied, “Well, you’re the only one who's in this room.” She then sadly looked at me and stated, “Since turning 40 years old, I can’t do anything right anymore.” First, I had to stop myself from chuckling because how is it that she’s now twenty-four years younger than me? Then the kicker was what she said next: “I wish that my children were here with me.” Now, I simply wanted to cry. Instead, I reconnected her television, turned to her favorite show, and then gently kissed her forehead while saying, “That’s okay, you have me here.” She then smiled and said, “Girl, I’m certainly glad of that!”

I recently read an inspiring quote that touched my heart: “We only get so many moments in our lifetime, and we can't relive a single one." I never want to look back over my life and have regrets. Therefore, I decided to do things with my Mom now that will create more good memories with her while I can still do so.

Knowing that my Mom enjoys music just as I do, I asked her if she wanted to watch one of my favorite television shows.  When I told her that I would sit and watch it with her. She gladly agreed. Not surprisingly, she asked several times, “What’s the name of this show?” I turned to the channel and showed her, and then she would state, “I’ve never seen this before.” I periodically asked if she was enjoying it, and she said that she was. She laughed and even sang along with the contestants a few times. It was a very pleasant experience for both of us.

The next night I asked her if she wanted to watch the show again with me, and she said yes. I gladly turned to the channel and sat back to enjoy the episode. Well, after the fifth time of her asking, “What’s the name of this show?” and “I’ve never seen this show before.” I began to question if this was going to work. You see, this was usually my time to sit back and be entertained without interruptions. But instead, I took a deep breath and politely answered her questions repeatedly and described what was happening in the show. She began to laugh again and really enjoyed the episode. 

Afterwards, when I was preparing to leave the room, she said: “Thank you for spending the evening with me.” That was more than I could ever ask for because sweet memories are woven from good times. Even if those memories are just mine.

Learning Never Stops

I have always been a planner. Whether it is organizing a complex itinerary, diving deep into research, or meticulously mapping out an event, I thrive on details and fact-finding. But nothing in my life could have fully prepared me for the role of becoming my mother’s permanent caregiver after her dementia diagnosis.

I quickly learned that caring for someone with dementia is a journey without a standard roadmap; it is entirely unique to the individual. Along the way, I have stumbled, learned, and adapted. 

To help other caregivers navigating this challenging path, I have gathered the most valuable lessons and practical strategies that have brought peace, safety, and even a bit of joy back into our daily lives.

Heart-to-Heart: Lessons in Connection and Patience

Trade arguments for peace. Dementia gradually strips away age-appropriate reasoning. Arguing with your loved one will only cause distress for both of you.
Master the art of distraction. When tension rises or a fixation becomes unhealthy, gently pivot. Point out something outside the window, change the room, or start a new activity to guide their mind away from the trigger.
Embrace therapeutic fibs. White lies are acts of kindness here when it eases tension. If a small untruth prevents panic or heartbreak, give yourself permission to use it.
Guard your tone and expression. People with dementia are highly sensitive to emotional energy. Even if you are feeling frustrated inside, maintaining a cheerful voice and a calm face will almost always mirror back a positive response.
Retire the word “remember.” Asking them to remember can highlight their cognitive gaps and cause anxiety. Instead, simply share the memory yourself or look at a photograph together to see if a spark naturally ignites.
Decode their language. If they are struggling to express a thought, listen for a single recognizable word. Use that word to gently anchor your follow-up question and help them finish the thought.
Anchor them in routine. Maintain normalcy as much as possible. Drastic changes to schedules or environments can spark deep irritation and confusion.
Let outsiders deliver the hard truths. When it is time to deliver painful news—like taking away the car keys—let a doctor or the DMV be the "bad guy." This protects your relationship from resentment.
Take control of finances early. Step in and manage their financial affairs before a mistake or a disaster occurs.
Secure your own oxygen mask. You cannot provide 24/7 care alone. Hire in-home help, even if only for a few hours a week, and use that time to do something that truly fulfills you.
Find your tribe. Joining a support group is not a luxury; it is essential for your mental and emotional well-being.

Safe and Seamless: Practical Tips for the Home

Secure the hazards. Child-lock any cabinets containing cleaning products or medications.
Purge hidden dangers. I learned this the hard way when I walked into my mother’s room and found her rubbing her hands together, insisting it was lotion. My nose and the bottle told a different story—it was fingernail polish remover. Now, all liquid hazards are completely removed from her room. In their place, she has a large pump bottle of actual lotion in the bathroom and a small jar of Vaseline in her nightstand drawer, which keeps her happy and safe.
Swap the toothpaste caps. Replace standard twist-off toothpaste caps with a wash-and-reuse pop-up cap. This prevents tiny caps from rolling onto the floor, getting lost, or worse, dropped down the toilet.
Preserve their dignity. Keep incontinence products in an easily accessible, discreet location in the bathroom so they can manage their needs independently for as long as possible.
Create visual cheat sheets. Leave simple, picture-based instructions next to the television remote, the cell phone, and other everyday gadgets.
Surround them with familiar faces. Hang clear, bright photographs of close family members and friends directly in their bedroom to provide comfort and continuous recognition.
Chase away the gray days. If your loved one experiences weather-related mood changes, invest in a mood or SAD lamp. Whenever it gets cloudy outside, my mother used to tell me, "It's scary." Bringing simulated sunlight into the room completely changed her demeanor.
Anticipate their routine requests. Create a "stash drawer" of items they frequently ask for—facial tissues, room deodorizer, mints, cough drops, or Vaseline. Having these ready the moment they ask keeps the day moving smoothly and keeps everyone happy.

Accepting Her Reality

 

"Is It Dreary or Sunny?"

As the caregiver, my question is what will this do to my reality over time? I'm afraid that if I crawl into her head, I'll get lost and not find my way back to my own reality.  Like, how do I accept her reality that people are living upstairs over her apartment, when we actually live in a one floor ranch house? How do I accept that although the weather is actually sunny she needs the window blinds closed because the weather is dreadful. How do I accept that I have to be the one to always turn on her bedroom lights and close her bedroom blinds, or move her meal tray even though she gets up several times during the day and at night to go to the bathroom and scampers into the kitchen to find something to nibble on? Am I missing something here?

My greatest fear is that if I start accepting her reality, I'll end up living in it as well. Before you know it I'll be shipped off to the looney bin strapped in a straight jacket long before she ever gets there! 

Angelo and I used to joke about what the other should do if one of us turns senile. "When I go senile just play the same episode of my favorite TV show day and night. I won't know the difference." We would laugh, then add, "When I go senile just play the same R&B song all day long. I'll be happy and that's all that matters." "When I go senile serve the same meal every day, all day and I'll say, '"Ooh look! Something new!"' And lap it up like I never had it before."

Now that we are caregivers we realize nothing could be further from the truth. Mom likes to mix it up. She quickly tires of certain things repeated daily. Like the same fruit cup, or the same dinner meat, or the same fruit juice, or even the same TV show episode.

However, she does keep the same routine. She likes to rise early, watch TV at 8 AM, eat at 10 AM. Her food needs to be cooked to her liking and she retires at precisely 11 PM.  Some days she's the child and on other days she is the picky and critical parent. She argues if there is any deviation from the norm as she sees it on that given day. 

I guess it's true, if you accept their reality by not arguing with them each time they fail to adjust to your own reality, there will be a lot less dementia drama, frustration, and resentment from forgetting. I'll keep working on it. Someone once said, "The burden of adjustment falls on the one who can bear the burden of adjusting." I guess for now, until it's my children's turn to accept my reality, the burden falls on me to accept my Mom's reality.

Keywords: weather humor, loosing ones mind. accepting reality, frustration and resentment, forgetting, senile senility, aging humor, care for an older family member, dealing with memory loss, stories about dealing with dementia

Hashtags:#aginghumor, #caringforanolderfamilymember, #dealingwithmemoryloss, #storiesaboutdealingwithdementia

My Adventures as Mom's Caregiver - New Beginnings

"A Caregivers Beginning"

“Family” ---when I hear that word it still makes me feel warm and fuzzy. My story starts after my premature birth as Mom stroked and held my tiny hand in the incubator every day at the hospital for two months until she was able to bring me home. She swaddled, cuddled, nurtured, fed, cared, comforted, and taught me with abiding love.

My childhood is filled with precious memories of bursting outdoors to play with friends, stepping over my brother's Matchbox car sets and laughing over board games, playing with jacks, bat and ball sets, dolls, going to the movies, and frequenting concerts. As a family of loving parents and three children, the eldest being me, we also enjoyed numerous fun family gatherings and trips. My father was from North Carolina, the son of a Baptist Preacher and the youngest of twelve. He was a charismatic fun-loving man who retired from being a juice distributor for over five decades. He enjoyed traveling, fishing and entertaining his family and friends. He taught my brother, Lamar, important life lessons and how to be a man. Their bond became a deep and lasting friendship. Although at the end, Dad lived with Alzheimer's disease, he was frequently heard saying, "life don't owe me no change because I lived a long, happy, and satisfying life with no regrets."

Born in South Carolina, my Mom was the youngest of eight. After graduating from high school she moved from her family's farm in the country to the Big Apple, New York City, under the care of an older relative. Mom is sweet, charming, a devout church goer and was a proud hard working woman until her retirement. By her example of dress, grooming, and public decorum she taught me and my sister, Renee, the true essence of being a lady. She managed her household and finances so well that I aspire to follow suit. 

Due to the onset of dementia my siblings and I met to discuss our mother's ongoing care. Fortunately, prior to this need we held a family meeting with our Mother to discuss in detail her living will, medical directive, end of life preferences, and to set up her legal power of attorney. Because I am retired and have the circumstances to accommodate our Mom, my husband and I are her personal caregivers. We're talking about family here and you only have one mother. She's the same woman who carried me in her womb for seven months until my premature birth. Mom's daily routine of reading the Bible and hearing her frequent prayers awakened my spirituality. It's only proper to do whatever is necessary to make her comfortable and happy, especially now when she needs me most. This is my way of continuing to demonstrate the respect and honor that she deserves. However, when the roles are  reversed, it can get emotionally exhausting. We’ve all heard of the saying, “When life gives you lemons, make lemonade.” Well, when writing this blog that is mainly my intention to keep a positive twist on life. You know, looking at the glass as being half full even though at times it's half full of nuts!

Keywords: humorous story about aging, stories about dealing with dementia, life growing up, funny tails about retirement, funny journals about caregiving, the funny side of getting older, taking care of an older family member, aging comedy

Hashtags: #aginghumor, #dealingwithdementia, #lifegrowingup, #funnytalesaboutretirement, #funnyjournalsaboutcaregiving, #thefunnysideofgettingolder, #takingcareofanolderfamilymember, #agingcomedy, #talesofacaregiver