Most days what we do is eat together. Today, we’ll do that too. This will be a big day over at the home. It’s one of two or three days a year when everyone floods in to see their moms. Allergans run high as everyone totes in flowers.

My family never did a lot about holidays. Most went by fairly unremarked. There were presents at Christmas, but a fairly modest amount. Cards for birthdays, and that pretty much took care of it. And so today, I’ll be known as the daughter who doesn’t show up with flowers.

But I’ll show up. Twice. Once to feed her lunch and once to feed her dinner. Or is it dinner and supper? I still can’t remember. And she and I will smile and giggle. I’m incredibly lucky. Over at my house, every day is mother’s day. And I’d better take advantage. Because pretty soon in the not-to-distant future, no day will be.

So do something today with your mom(s). Lots of women have mothered you through the years. Remember them and do something fun with them. And don’t rule out doing something fun with them at some other point. That’s all they want. Flowers are nice. Time? It’s priceless and limited.

1. Some quiet time, maybe some quiet music, maybe just quiet.
2. A Candle

Consider

• There are over 5,000,000 Americans living with Alzheimer’s.
• Alzheimer’s is the 6th leading cause of death.
• Every 71 seconds someone is diagnosed with Alzheimer’s.
• 3 in 10 Baby Boomers will be diagnosed with Alzheimer’s

When you are ready. Read this poem aloud, say the name of your beloved, or simply say, “People affected by Alzheimer’s and their caretakers.” Then light the candle and sit in reflection. Thank you for joining us.

Alzheimer’s Memories
By Ann Keeler Evans©2009

Where do they go, those memories?
As they slowly slip away.
Do they flee to some alien parallel universe
Along with those socks we lose in the wash?

Who knew that memories
Such tiny, elusive things
Could leave such huge and painful gashes
In the minds and psyches of those that lose them.
And are they ever really gone —
Or do they simply play their own nasty version of hide and seek
With the brains of those who cherished each particular past,
Robbing people of the certainty of their competence
Flirting cruelly with the here and the now.

How long does it take for those who love the memory losers
To notice?
How long before “what’s the matter with you?”
Turns to suspicion, then disbelief
Then to dazed horror.
Who accepts first?
Where do you turn for help?
Who has help to offer
When your brain is slowly being ravaged
By an element
We have been told is crucial to our well-being?

How do we cope?
Every instinct is to cover up, deny, repudiate.
But this is a relentless disease with no mercy.
Sooner or later we must all make our peace.
How else will we find those moments of unquenchable joy?
Those simple pleasures,
Those treasured smiles filled with tenderness and love?

For so many of us, our trust and respite is in the kindness
Of the mostly women and few men who carefully tend our loved ones.
The sweet dailiness of so many lives rests in your hands.
You deliver their meds and their daily quotient of hugs and kisses.
You catch their smiles, wipe their tears,
And then your own, as the lives of these gallant, funny, fascinating patients
Wind down, wink out, disappear.
You keep your hands and hearts open
So that the old ones can depart
And the new ones can make their homes in your embraces
And your daily routines.

For as long as I can, my dearest one,
I will remember with you and for you
And I will hope, and pray, that someone will be there
To remember for me.
Let us remember together.

As you light your candle, please name your loved one.

This event is being held the same day as a massive candlelight vigil for the eradication of Alzheimer’s on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial in Washington, DC. Here at home we will gather in the darkness, lighting candles as beacons of hope and flames of commemoration.

•    To witness to the many people affected by Alzheimer’s.
•    To mourn the many changes affecting our loved ones and ourselves as the disease progresses.
•    To understand that we are not alone in our struggle, though it may be solitary and isolating.
•    In tribute to the courage of people living with Alzheimer’s and the shining moments of joy we share with them.
•    To remember the loved ones who have died.
•    To pray that the disease will someday be eradicated.
•    To gather our strength for the journey ahead.
•    To provide a peaceful moment to stand with others who understand.

Please join us. Candles will be provided. Please bring a chair if you would prefer to sit.

Presented by: Peaceful Measures & Rosancrans Consulting
Ann Keeler Evans, M.Div.
Victoria J. Rosancrans, LPN, CDP
Steve Mitchell, Master Drummer

My mom lives in a nursing home because she is livng with dementia. She and dad moved to the nursing home about 4 years ago. Daddy died this March. A couple weeks ago, I finally got around to taking her rings off her hand (she had her diamond on first instead of the band) because the diamond needed to be repointed and I didn’t want to lose the stone which has meant so much to her.

Yesterday, which was the day before her 65th wedding anniversary, I got her rings back to her. I sat beside her after lunch and explained what I had done with the rings and reminded her that her anniversary was tomorrow. I had to grease her finger to get the ring on, but with a little hand lotion, it slid right on. There was a nurse’s aid in the room with me while I did this. Both of us promptly started to cry. My mom looked at me the way she must have looked at her Sammy when he gave her the ring all those years ago. There was such love and such sweetness.

Tip: Don’t ever underestimate either the importance of those symbols of your love or Love’s ability to break through to open hearts.

In addition to her dementia, she has osteoperosis and stenosis. (And a couple other back problems.) Her spine is slowly collapsing.

I don’t question that I do a great job for my mom and the best that I can, so you don’t need to write and tell me that. What I am frustrated about is when my learning curve impacts mom’s health.

She’s been nashing her teeth for quite a while now, and everyone, psychiatrist included, has assumed that this was a dementia related problem. She has huge knots on her neck muscles, and who wouldn’t because her teeth are clenched all the time and she lists to the right as a result of some of her dementia drugs.

And I don’t know what finally enabled me to look at her and say, oh, the teeth gnashing and the folies bergere kicking… that’s to alleviate the pain. she’s in a lot of pain. I’d been missing the pain for quite a while, partially because she can’t articulate it. So, much screaming and crying later, they move fairly quickly to get her drugs that make her able to function. You can’t imagine what it feels like to see a face turn from fear and resignation back to your mother’s sweet smile.

It’s all about learning to see differently. and act differently. to be kind. and then of course to get a degree in gerontology because goodness knows nobody seems to know what they’re doing!

Chins up my darlings, it’s hard, but the pay off is extraordinary!

Ann

It’s quite a saga this living with dementia. And yet, there’s so much pleasure. Sunday at Lunch, Mom was stricken with the giggles. The slightest little misstep would lead to hilarity. We both had tears running down our cheeks by the end of the meal.

If you show up only intermittently, you often only get the teeth-grinding, teeth-ruining worry. And that’s hard to deal with, because, sometimes, you don’t know what to DO. But if you are there more frequently, you get the giggles. You get to take an occasional hot fudge sundae with peanut butter ice cream. You can make up for the fact that you didn’t get in to help her with a meal, and therefore she didn’t eat so much. And you know at the end of life, they figure calories are calories. One of my favorite comments from nurses in the dining room is “well, will you at least eat your ice cream?

Take a friend now and again, because maybe your parent will reconnect to his or her social graces… or just have a good time.

It’s important to remember that your mom or dad wasn’t always this person. Daily visits help that. Because you don’t know when they’ll have complete access to themselves… But keep things around that keep you remembering.

The other day my web guru checked in. He had resurrected something that hadn’t been on my site since we made the changes: mom’s art gallery. It’s still not public, but it’s there and will be public. (let me know if you can’t wait to see the rest of this.) My mom is still a real person, funny and sweet. But here’s her picture of who she was before the Alzheimer’s closed off important pieces of her brain and macular degeneration stole her vision.

go have a great day with your aging parent!

It’s hard losing your mom like this. But if she can bear the loneliness, I can bear the loss. In the meantime we have a sweet and wonderful relationship. I sometimes feel it’s like having a child – in reverse. She certainly cuddles into my arms and takes love and nourishment confidently from me. But she’s disappearing not individuating. Thankfully the love isn’t going away. I don’t think it ever will. Before Daddy died, it was what he was most concerned about… that I would love and care for her. So, I do. For him and for me. Because I’m lucky enough to have been a well loved child. Loving back is my sweet reward!

Betty was a wonderful artist. From time to time you’ll see some of her artwork in the blog. She raised three children 2 daughters and a son in small town Pennsylvania. She was and she remains very social. She adored her Sammy, my dignified thoughtful daddy, Sam.

I am with Mommy almost every day, usually at a meal. She eats much better if I am there. As she eats, I am coming to know the other ladies (and the few men) who eat on the early shift. I want to tell you a bit about these wonderful women and the men, their quirks and personalities, the food and their families, and the caretakers who love and tend them.

I want you to get to know her compatriots and find out that life isn’t without its richness, even in places like this. Forget the horror stories, although there are certainly places that aren’t perfect. This is where your parents are being cared for. The more you know, the more you expect, the better care they’ll get.