My sister got married last weekend.  It was a beautiful outdoor ceremony, despite an impending rain storm.  It thundered as they repeated their vows, which made me think of the “The Ten Commandments” movie. Thankfully, the only thing that caught on fire was the Unity Candle and no bushes blazed. 

My Mother was beautiful and enjoyed her role as Mother of the Bride.  With her hair professionally done, a pretty lavender jacket dress and pearls – she looked 15 years younger.  Ever the hostess, my Mother was concerned about the guests and did her best to make sure that those around her were having a nice time.  It was wonderful to see her looking so happy and composed.  It reminded me of other family occasions when she was more engaged and aware than she typically is now. 

My sister and I were overjoyed that my Mother could be present and enjoy the day.  We didn’t care that she wasn’t quite sure where we were or what day it was.  We just cared that she could celebrate with us.  WE LIVED IN THE MOMENT.  It is one we will cherish and remember forever. 

Last week, I traveled from Indianapolis, IN to Litchfield, CT with my Mother to attend my sister’s wedding.  It was a long trip as we got to the airport early to deal with security, took a 2 hour flight to Newark and then rented a car and drove 3 hours to a Bed and Breakfast in Connecticut.  Along the way, we had to take our shoes off, give up our purses for a security inspection, and take escalators, elevators and a train in pursuit of a National rental car.  Everyone knows that traveling today is an exercise in both patience and logistics…b ut when you are accompanying a senior who is not steady on her feet and tends to be confused….. the patience/logistics requirements increase ten-fold.

Planning and advance preparation can help ease the journey.  In our case, I found it helpful to:

• Keep my Mother’s ticket and ID with mine, rather than risk her misplacing the paperwork.
• Consolidate all carry-on items in one bag (meds, jewelry, reading material), so there was less to keep track of during the trip.
• Dress for the security line….slip on shoes, no heavy jewelry, easy to remove jacket.
• Bring an extra sweater, as most airports are freezing.
• Pack snacks in case of airline delays, missed meals and long wait times.  The food court can be a long way from the assigned gate – a walk a senior is not up to.  If a senior has diabetes or a loss of mobility, packing snacks is essential to avoiding missed meals or long walks to the food court.
• Request a wheelchair or flag down a motorized cart to assist with transportation from gate to gate, if necessary.
• Stop when the senior gets tired and sit for a few minutes.  The airport pace is very difficult for a senior to keep up with.  This is especially true if your loved one has a loss of mobility.
• Limit information and do not provide it all at once – just focus on the next step and explain to the senior.  Discussing the entire itinerary i.e. we are catching a plane, then renting a car, then driving to Connecticut... is too overwhelming.
• Remember that the crowds, noise and fast pace of the airport can contribute to a senior’s confusion and anxiety.  Try to buffer them as much as possible by walking so that they are close to the wall and you are on the outside to take the bumps as people push past you.
• Be sensitive to their fears – dementia may cause even seasoned flyers to feel nervous about flying.
• Enlist help – ask someone else to accompany you to help with luggage, logistics and provide moral support.
• Enjoy the senior’s sense of wonder along the way – for them, a plane trip is a rare and exciting event. 

In summary, traveling with a senior should not be taken lightly.  Advance planning is key to ensuring a safe and stress-free trip for both caregivers and seniors alike. Be prepared, be patient and always remember that seniors will need extra special care and attention during the trip.

My mother moved to Indianapolis last August.  The move was difficult, as she moved away from her friends and an area where she had lived for almost 30 years.  Her move into an Assisted Living Facility in Carmel, IN meant she would receive the care she needed, but it impacted her independence when she gave up driving, downsized to a smaller apartment and lost her social network.

The past ten months haven’t been easy for either of us.  My Mother has struggled to adapt to a new place and make new friends.  I have struggled to balance work and caregiving, while maintaining time for myself and the things I enjoy.  We have both struggled to adjust to the dynamics of a shifting Mother-Daughter relationship.

Throughout it all, my Mother has conceded that she likes it here….yet has repeatedly asked me if she can move back to where she used to live.  We’ve discussed this and I’ve explain that her home in Pennsylvania is 11 hours away and that it is probably better if she stayed here, so we can see each other more often and I can help her with things.  She has reluctantly agreed that this is the best plan, but we have both felt sad that she can no longer live as she used to and that her cognitive decline has changed her life in ways neither of us imagined.

That’s why yesterday was a wonderful day and a blessing to be appreciated for a long time.  It started out innocently enough.  I took my Mother shoe shopping.  She needed some sturdy, comfortable flats for summer.  The shoe store clerk was exceptionally nice to my Mother and found a pair of stylish, yet practical shoes.  My Mother selected a summer purse she liked too – so was quite happy with our shopping expedition.  She commented as she left that she liked the shoe store quite a lot and was glad it was nearby.

Later at dinner, she looked at me and said “Can I stay here?”  I responded by saying of course she could stay here, that she lived here now…in Carmel….about five miles from my house.  She responded by saying “Good, I like it here and I like having dinner with you and going shopping.”  Her comments were sincere and something I’ve longed to hear for ten months.  I quietly thanked God for helping her become comfortable in a new place.

Everyone needs a place to belong and a place to call home.  I believe my Mother has finally come to think of Carmel, Indiana as home and I am grateful and thankful that she is happy to be here. 

Recently, a colleague made me aware of a free, on-line publication about Alzheimer’s, The Alzheimer’s Daily News - http://alznews.org.  I signed up for the daily e-mails with some trepidation.  I wasn’t sure just how much I wanted to know – given my family’s history.  However, I finally decided that knowledge is power and signed up for the newsletter.  Some days the articles make me sad, some days they make me afraid, some days they give me hope and, thankfully, most days they help me cope. 

Yesterday’s edition contained a story about a keynote address presented by Jolene Brackey, the author of Creating Moments of Joy for the Person with Alzheimer's or Dementia.  I thought the advice she offered was some of the best I’ve read and plan to order her book.  Her talk focused on everyday situations and realistic approaches.  One of the best bits was her comment about body language.  Her point is that a person with dementia or Alzheimer’s may not be able to communicate as they have in the past…but that they can still read body language.  Therefore,  it is important for caregivers to convey a relaxed and open posture and positive mood.  What a great idea and something caregivers should try to achieve, although it may take some practice!

To link to the complete article, please click here.

To view the book on Amazon, click here.

We thought we were organized.  We thought the file in my mother’s desk labeled “HLK will” actually contained her will.  We thought all we needed to do was to have the will reviewed by a local attorney, once my mother moved to a senior residence in Indiana from Pennsylvania. 

That was until we looked in the file and realized that “the will” was not there.  We looked in the adjacent files, we looked in the safe deposit box, we looked everywhere.  NO WILL.  To this day, my sister and I have no idea what happened to it.  We knew it was reviewed and updated by a Pennsylvania attorney a decade ago.  We always assumed it was in the file.

The problem was we assumed.  We assumed the will had been efficiently filed, labeled and housed in a place that made sense.  What we discovered was exactly the opposite – nothing made sense about its disappearance.  To this day, we don’t know where it is.  There is a chance my Mother “hid” it in a safe place and forgot to tell us.  For all we know it is taped to the bottom of the dining room hutch that we sold at auction.  Or perhaps it was inadvertently thrown away with the junk mail 

Thankfully, I remembered the name of the law firm in Philadelphia that my parents had used many, many years ago.  However, the paper chase did not end there.   The suburban branch office my parents used had closed.  So, I contacted the downtown office and learned that they had transferred my mother’s file to a different law firm at my mother’s request about five years ago.  Several phone calls and an hour later, I located the will with the help of a sympathetic paralegal.  Copies were quickly dispatched via e-mail to the Indiana attorney for review.

But what would have happened if I hadn’t known the name of my parents’ first law firm?    What would have happened if we couldn’t find the will?  The sad fact is that my Mother’s wishes would have been unfulfilled and a probate court would have made the decisions. 

My advice to everyone is to look now for important documents and review them to make sure they are up to date.  Then file them appropriately and make sure family members know where they can be found in case of an emergency.  

When I became a stepmother to my then 7 year old stepson, it was easy to find people to turn to for advice.  For I lived in the midst of a community of  mothers……in my neighborhood, at work and at church.  These built-in communities provided support and guidance as I assumed the joyous role of being a Mom to a precious little boy named Michael.  That was 20 years ago and the friendships I made with those other Moms still exist. Today,  we continue to share stories about our “children,” but have excitedly expanded the conversation to include “grandchildren” and the happiness we experience as we watch our children become parents. 

As a caregiver for a parent, I find this type of community missing in my life.  There is not a natural group of people, who are caring for their parents, as readily available to talk with and exchange experiences.  Some organizations, such as the Alzheimer’s Association, offer support groups that do wonderful work.  But it is not the same as simply walking out the front door anymore.  The fact is that caring for children is much more common than caring for parents…..or at the very least…..more frequently discussed.   

I’ve found that I need to actively seek out support and this has come from many different sources.  I frequently browse the eldercare section at my local Barnes and Noble.  I talk to my RN friends and co-workers.  I subscribe to the Alzheimer’s e-newsletter.   But the outpouring of support that comes so naturally when caring for children at the beginning of life is rather hard to find when caring for parents at the end of life.

Recognizing that a lack of community and support is a common occurrence among senior caregivers, my company recently established an on-line complimentary “Caregiving Community” to provide answers to difficult caregiving questions.  The goal is to provide assistance and support to adult children who are worried or concerned about their parents.   Each month, My Health Care Manager will send members of the “Caregiving Community” an e-mail update which will focus on common caregiving concerns and practical solutions in a quick, easy to read, question and answer format.   The first issue tackled the following:  “Dad’s car has new scratches and dents.  Is it time to take the keys away?” 

I’d like to personally invite you to join the “Caregiving Community.”  Its goal is to help you….help your parents.  Please click here to join the “Caregiving Community”.  I also encourage you to e-mail your questions to CaregivingCommunity@MyHealthCareManager.com.  These will be addressed in a future issue.  Rest assured, your e-mail address will not be shared with any other organization. 

I work for a Geriatric Care Management company – My Health Care Manager.  I work with RN’s that have in-depth geriatric experience.  I read about geriatric care and caregiving on a daily basis.  I even give talks on Caregiving to employer groups in Indianapolis. So, I thought I was prepared, I thought I was handling things well, I thought I was the “exception” – the caregiver who takes everything in stride, who gets enough rest and who effortlessly achieves work/life balance without giving it a second thought.  That was until last weekend.

Last weekend, I crashed.  I was tired and irritable, got in arguments and cried without provocation.  I had finally had it.  I was tired of trying to be all things to all people – a devoted daughter, an attentive friend, a dedicated employee and a caring partner.  I was tired of not finding time for myself, tired of not curling up with a good book, tired of doing too much laundry and tired of sorting through tax records.  I was tired of answering my Mother’s questions over and over, I was tired of grocery shopping and most of all I was tired of being responsible.   

With shock, I realized my energy was all but depleted and I couldn’t believe the depth of my tiredness both physically and emotionally.  So, I crashed and slept a lot, read books and a caring partner took me out to dinner, cooked dinner for me and took my Mother and me to lunch.  He stepped in to prop me up and I was grateful for his help.  By Monday, I was feeling much better and ready to face the world.

When I spoke with a close friend about what happened – she wasn’t surprised and pointed out that my Mother had moved here six months ago.  She reminded me that I had been on the go ever since. I hadn’t realized how much time had passed or even thought about it, but realized she was right.  No wonder I was tired and cranky and motion sick from my merry-go-round life.

It was a rude awakening and I realized that I needed to follow some of the advice I often share with others. So I expressed my concerns to several friends and two volunteered to take my Mother on an outing (without me).  I worked less.  I engaged an Accounting Firm to help me with some financial tasks.  And a very thoughtful partner continued to provide encouragement and support as well as “date nights” and flowers.  And, most importantly, I gave myself a break!  I read books in the evening and let the laundry pile up.  I treated myself to an extravagant spring purse and savored chocolate covered blueberries.  It didn’t take much to bring the balance back to my life, but I learned a valuable lesson. 

So, the next time I give a talk about Caregiving – I’ll admit I didn’t follow the rules espoused in my carefully crafted Powerpoint presentation.  I’ll share my story.  I hope my experience will help others recognize that trying to be all things to all people is a useless endeavor, especially when it means you lose yourself in the process.

When my sister and I moved my Mother last August, we didn’t have time to sort through everything that was stored in the boxes in her attic.  So, the boxes found a home in my garage and den – awaiting the time I could go through them.  They sat there neglected until this past weekend …when with little enthusiasm I decided to go through a few at a time. 

Some files were quickly dispatched to the shred pile – things like checking account statements from 1986 and a batch of checks from 1958.  However, other files were a treasure trove of memories – such as one created by my Dad  “KAK Personal  Papers.”

Of special interest was his offer letter from Ingersoll Rand in 1950 for the mighty salary of $250 a month and his telegraphed acceptance.  Things have certainly changed.  There was a file my Mom had kept too – filled with childhood artwork and homemade birthday cards. 

I set these personal files aside and shared them with my Mom.  As she leafed through them, each piece of paper generated a story – one she remembered and was happy to share.  I left the files on her coffeetable and she enjoys looking through them often.  I’m now hunting through the other boxes in my attic hoping to find more of the same.  For these paper memories are “presents” and like childhood toys, she takes them out and “plays with them” – happy to show me something new she’s discovered or tell me a story.  She is both engaged and engaging, and I’m thankful that the past helps her be truly present.

How many times have I heard this phrase and nodded my head in agreement?  But how many times have I put this into practice?  Not many, I fear. 

Until now…..until I became a caregiver.  Until I realized that obsessing over the small stuff will serve no purpose.  It won’t slow my Mother’s dementia.  It won’t give me peace of mind and it won’t make either of us happier or less frustrated.

So every day I look for “stuff” to put in the “small stuff” category.  Almost everything is finding a home here – unless it directly affects my Mother’s health and wellbeing.  For instance, when my Mother loses her purse and her wedding ring and her keys – I just help her look for them, knowing we’ll find them hidden in the laundry hamper or dresser.  Or when my Mother confuses the date, calls me repeatedly about the same issue or can’t remember what she had for lunch – I let it go.  Because worrying about it isn’t going to make it better.

I’m still sweating though – thanks to a maniacal personal trainer at the exercise club I just joined.  My thrice weekly workout is intended to help manage stress …..but I refer to it as “sweating the big stuff” – specifically the BIG Treadmill, BIG Elliptical Trainer and BIG Weight Machines!

When you are caregiver, it is very easy to become the taskmaster.  There is always something “to do.”  Dr. Appointments, grocery shopping, bill paying, laundry – these activities are “top of mind.”  The “to do’s” are usually “must do’s” because they center on your parent’s health and safety.  As a former psych major I am reminded of the Maslow “Hierarchy of Needs” -   where physiological and safety needs are at the bottom of the pyramid and met first.  But lately I was bothered because the “to do’s” structured our time together.  I lost sleep one evening after my Mother referred to me as “her boss." I much preferred being Karen - "her daughter." 

I had a conversation with my Mother about what she would like to do for “fun.”  She mentioned going out to dinner and shopping – things we already do on a fairly regular basis.  Then, she said – “I’d like to go to a movie -  I haven’t been to a movie in a long time.”  So, yesterday we went to the movies. We had buckets of buttered popcorn and large cokes.   We saw “Enchanted” – the Disney movie about a princess who is banished to New York City by a wicked queen.  We whispered together when we recognized a NYC landmark and barely breathed when the wicked queen served a poison apple to the princess.   Adorable Patrick Dempsey starred – perfect casting as far as we were concerned! 

I thought about it afterwards and realized that not only did my Mother enjoy the change in routine, she also enjoyed the memories associated with going to the movies.  Yesterday, she told me the oft-repeated story of her first date with my Dad – which was going to a movie.  She laughed as she told me she was very embarrassed during the date because there was a naked baby in the movie. Then, she commented that no one would even notice that now!        

In these days of DVD’s and pay-per-view, the role of the movie theatre in my life is much different than it has been in the life of my Mother.  For her, it was the joy of a weekly Saturday afternoon matinee as a child and, later, dates with my Dad, which continued after they were married.  No wonder she was so happy to “go to the movies.”

I was happy too. I was thrilled to see her engaged and energized as she discussed the movie with me afterwards.  I was thrilled to walk out of a movie feeling entertained vs. drained and vowed to see a Disney movie again soon! 

In the future you will still find us at the grocery store trying to decide on a cereal choice (Trix is the current favorite) …but look for us at the movies too! 

2008 brings with it the promise of “new” – new resolutions, new opportunities, new challenges and new experiences.  New is good – for it keeps complacence at bay and ensures that 2008 will not be a rerun of  2007.  Fortunately, this writer is not on strike and doesn’t need to portray her life as a reality TV episode! 

But reality is right around the corner and with it comes the knowledge that my Mother is “slipping.”  Her confusion abounds about where she lives, what day it is and whether she has spoken to either my sister or me on any given day.  This we have taken in stride, but other cognitive changes, while relatively innocent, are concerning.   Over Christmas, my Mother drifted in and out of a “second childhood.”  It began when we rescued a cute Christmas Teddy Bear from CVS because my Mother thought it looked lonely.  The bear journeyed home with us and became part of the family.  The bear sat on the couch and watched TV, joined us at the dinner table and slept in the guestroom.  My Mother was always very aware of the bear’s whereabouts and became anxious when “Teddy” was not in sight.  It was sweet and her concern for the bear was quite real.  So, although I feel sad at times that my incredibly bright Mother can no longer find joy in reading, bridge and other intellectual pursuits, I feel great when I realize that she still has the same heart – one that is capable of making a new friend named “Teddy” and welcoming him into our family.

How many times have we heard “ try to put yourself in their shoes”  when we are trying to understand actions or behavior we find puzzling?   We do this for friends and co-workers all the time.  But it is much more difficult to put ourselves in our parents’ shoes.  Because as children growing up we didn’t spend time trying to figure out much, if anything, about our parents.  For most of us, we just knew they loved us and wanted to take care of us.  It was an absolute, a given, and not something to be questioned or analyzed.  We didn’t try to put ourselves in their shoes, we just worried about our shoes, especially when we wanted new school shoes and the latest sneakers.

I had an “aha” moment when I entered the work force and became an Executive Assistant to a CEO who had a crazy schedule filled with meetings and business travel.  While managing his constantly fluid schedule, it dawned on me that my Dad’s business life had been similar.  And I wondered how my Dad had managed to attend so many of my tennis matches in high school.  I finally recognized and appreciated the effort he must have made so many years ago to be there for me.  But, I have to admit that at the time, while I was glad he was there, I didn’t realize everything he must have done to make that happen.  I wasn’t very good at putting myself in his shoes then, and I’m not very good at putting myself in my Mother’s shoes now.  I don’t think I am exceptionally dense or self absorbed……I just don’t think this is the natural order of things.

Another example occurred yesterday when I was shopping with my Mother.  As we walked from the car to the shopping center, I was focused on our destination – the World Market store – and the list of things I wanted to purchase for Christmas – gift wrap, gourmet items and some wine.  I didn’t pay attention to the other stores in the strip center, until my Mother asked this question – “Are you going to buy a Sailor Suit?”  I then realized that there was an “Old Navy” store next door to the store I planned to visit.  My Mother’s question was perfectly legitimate, albeit hysterical, because from her perspective we were going to a “Navy” store…….not the World Market store.  It made me realize how easy it is to look at things differently and how often our perspectives are not the same.  Because perspective is based on life experience and our life experiences have been quite different.  I didn’t grow up at a time when brothers, classmates, boyfriends and neighbors were likely to enter the Navy.  My Mom didn’t grow up in a world defined by The Gap. 

So, I’ve decided to make a real effort to try to look at the world more closely through my Mother’s eyes and try to walk in her shoes.  The first step occurred late yesterday afternoon – when I bought her a pair of UGG boots because I was worried about her falling in the snow in her heeled fashion-conscious boots.  I love my UGG boots, with the warm fleece lining and sturdy, waterproof soles.  I convinced my Mother to try a pair on and she liked them! So, now we truly are walking in the same shoes (boots)!

December has arrived and with it comes the mad dash to prepare for Christmas.  Each year I promise myself I’ll do less, but never can decide what to “give up.”  So, I’m busy shopping for just the right present for family and friends, decorating my house and baking Christmas cookies at midnight.  It just wouldn’t feel like Christmas, if I skipped any of these activities.  Because growing up our home was filled with Christmas preparations and I have wonderful memories of my Mother patiently making cookies with us and helping us make homemade decorations and ornaments.

My challenge this year is to find creative ways to include my Mother in Christmas preparations.  I recognize that she can no longer shop, decorate or bake like she used to.  However, she still wants to be included and participate, just at a different pace and smaller scope.  So, this year we’ll go for a drive and look at Christmas lights and she will “direct’ as I place my Christmas Village on the mantel.  We’ll go on a brief shopping trip to the mall, limited to one store, where she’ll pick out a few things for my sister and me.  She won’t bake, but she will enjoy the cookies I make and suggest that she take some home for later! 

My advice for other caregivers would be to:

§         Maintain realistic expectations! Give yourself permission not to have a ‘perfect’ holiday.  Accept that things will be different this year.

§         Keep or adapt family traditions that are the most meaningful to you.

§         Begin preparations as far in advance as possible. 

§         Request help.

§         Plan the holiday gathering with respect to your parent’s needs.  Host a smaller gathering, avoid changes in routine, or have a space available where your parent can rest.

§         Encourage your parent to participate and include them in conversations.  Select a comforting activity such as looking at old photo albums and reminiscing.

Growing up, my Mother always hosted Thanksgiving and what I remember most is my role in setting the table.  Perhaps, it was our New England heritage, but our table always looked like a Norman Rockwell painting.  Or more aptly, Norman Rockwell meets Emily Post!  My Mother was a stickler on etiquette, and the silverware, glassware, etc. were always placed just right.  It was my job to ensure the plates were 1” from the table edge, the knife blades faced inward and that the water and wine glasses were appropriately placed.  I loved doing this as I felt very grownup when I was deemed old enough to place the china and crystal in their proper places.

I still love to set the dining room table.  For it brings up memories of so many happy family times – holidays, birthdays, and other special celebrations.  This is my favorite part of entertaining….certainly more fun than making beds and cleaning bathrooms prior to guest arrival! 

My Mother is very excited about the holiday, especially since my sister and her fiancé are flying in from NYC.  She has called me several times volunteering to help and I wanted to find a way to include her in the preparations.  So, yesterday afternoon I brought her to my home and we debated different tabletop “looks” and decided on a classic ivory tablecloth with fall napkins.  Then I set up the ironing board and she ironed my tablecloth and napkins.  She was so happy to help and be a part of the preparations.   We laughed as we struggled to get the tablecloth straight and she was pleased when I suggested we use the brass candlesticks she had given me when I was first married to light the table. 

But the most special light shown in her eyes, as a new tradition was born.  This year, she won’t be cooking the turkey nor doing the grocery shopping, but she was able to help in a way that connected her with the past, by actively participating in the present.  

Yesterday was Monday.  It was the first Monday in 28 years (other than a holiday or the odd vacation day) that I was not at work.  It was the first day of my new “flex” schedule, which has shifted my full time job to four longer days – Tuesday through Friday, allowing me to take Monday’s off.  Monday’s are now “Mom” days and as caregiver, I am grateful for this flexibility and the stress it will ease from my life.

Yesterday morning, I made several calls on my Mom’s behalf and got a number of things resolved.  It was nice to cross these things off my to-do list.  Yesterday afternoon, I spent time with my Mom and enjoyed a leisurely pace of grocery shopping, lunch out and a few other errands.  We both enjoyed the time we spent together and I didn’t feel rushed, as I had completed my errands over the weekend.  I truly “lived in the moment” and didn’t focus on the “must-do” list which sometimes happens when we are together.  My Mom and I laughed together and talked about Thanksgiving and she decided she would not bake a pie this year…we would just buy one from the store. 

It feels strange to be the Thanksgiving hostess this year.  My Mother has hosted this holiday either at home or in a restaurant for as long as I can remember.  But things change and now it is my turn to roast the turkey and get out my china.  I love to entertain and look forward to the day, especially because a good friend has agreed to help with the turkey!  Yet, as the baton passes, it is another sign that my Mother is aging and that makes me sad sometimes. However, her interest in the holiday is high and she’s shared many helpful tips…especially not to forget the black olives…a staple on my family’s Thanksgiving table.  Her joyous anticipation of having our family together finds me very thankful this Thanksgiving.

Baby Boomers, like me, are often referred to as the Sandwich Generation.  We often find ourselves caring for children and caring for parents at the same time.  In my case, my child is grown, so I don’t experience this on a daily basis, just once in awhile.

Several weeks ago I became a Grandmother to beautiful Ava Lane.  A precious baby, born in Washington DC, my son and daughter- in-law’s first child.  I eagerly made plans for my first “Grandmother Visit” …..one that will be oft repeated in the months and years to come.  I called USAIR, scheduled time off from work and bought lots of cute, pink baby clothes.  But making a trip to DC meant leaving my Mother “on her own” in Indianapolis.  Not that she is really on her own, as she lives in an Assisted Living facility, but it did mean I wouldn’t see her for a week.   This made me uncomfortable, as I typically see her several times per week.  I truly did feel like a sandwich then – being cut in half!!

Thankfully, I have a caregiving support network in place which allowed me to make the trip without worry.  I made arrangements for my Mother’s Geriatric Care Manager to visit and call while I was away.  Additionally, the companion stopped in twice in my absence and a good friend made a visit too.   I was fortunate to be able to enjoy a joyous time with my family, knowing that I had “people on the ground” in Indianapolis to look out for my Mother and who could be available in case of an emergency.  My peace of mind was greatly enhanced by their assistance.

I encourage everyone to establish a caregiving support network.  It is just not possible to go it alone.  I returned from my “Grandmother” trip refreshed and happy and know that by taking good care of myself, I’m better able to care for my Mother.

I just came across a great book "Caregiving - The Spiritual Journey of Love, Loss and Renewal" by Beth Witrogen McLeod.  I've read the sections that apply to parental caregiving and saw myself in each page.  It was reassuring to read comments from other caregivers and benefit from their insight and experience.  It confirmed what I am already experiencing....that parental caregiving is not something I was prepared for...despite my experience caring for my son and a terminally ill spouse.

For with caregiving, comes a feeling of responsibility to make my Mother's days happy.  After all, wasn't it my decision to move her here when she could no longer live alone?  But after reading the book and discussing the situation with my Mother's Health Care Manager, I've learned that making my Mother happy is a completely unrealistic expectation.  So, I'm learning to be content with the "good" days, when her dementia isn't as pronounced and she takes great delight in going to lunch or for a drive.  I try to store these memories....not knowing what tomorrow will bring.  And on the days when she is unhappy and annoyed with the world, I let her vent...knowing that helps too...while recognizing it is just not something I can "fix."   

My 79 year old Mother, Henrietta, has significant memory loss.  Her Dr. has used the words dementia and Alzheimer’s to describe her condition – both scary words that my sister and I do not use in Mother’s presence.

I have become my parent’s “parent.”  It is an odd shift of role reversal, one that is confusing and, at times, difficult for both of us.  But as I gently guide my Mother to select a new dress or pick an entrée while dining out, I realize that her decision making ability has simply disappeared.  Her mantra is “I’ll ask my Daughter.”  I’m grateful for the confidence so lovingly bestowed, but find the transition fraught with emotion – sadness, anxiety, frustration and the lingering doubt that I know how to do this well.