A few weeks ago, the good people at Assisted Living Directory asked me to write an article for their website. I wrote a brief account of Mom and Dad’s journey from independent living through moving in with us and on to assisted living. The article featured one of my favorite pictures with this caption: (more…)
Last month www.Ageingcare.com posted an article by Marlo Sollitto called LOL: Why You Should Laugh Even When You Don’t Feel Like It. It said that laughter is good for you both physically and mentally. The author acknowledged that caregivers often find nothing funny in their lives, but even fake laughter can have positive effects. I sometimes wonder if my caregiving experience would have been easier for all of us if I had laughed more.
Two elderly ladies met at the grocery store after not seeing one another for some time.
“Oh, Helen, it’s so good to see you. How are you doing?”
“You know how it is, Joan. I’m not bad for a woman of my age. How about you?”
“I know what you mean. Other than a high this and a low that I’m fine. How’s Ted?” (more…)
Time for a little break from reality. Here is a little more senior humor I found on the Internet.
Overheard at the Senior Center:
“Hey, Joe, I hear you’re getting married?”
“Yep.”
“Do I know her?”
“Nope.”
“Is she good looking?” (more…)
I met Brent and Sharon Harmon in early 2007 when David and I first got serious about the RV lifestyle. I’m not sure how our interest was first piqued. The first thing I remember is David showing me a luxury motorhome on his computer. It sported a mid-six figure price tag, and we laughed over the impossibility of owning one as we oohed and aahed over the fancy, tricked-out bus. (more…)
From abcnews.go.com
It takes humility to serve others, but sometimes it takes even more humility to allow others to serve you. Pope Francis created quite a stir during Holy Week when he celebrated the Mass of the Lord’s Supper at a prison and washed the feet of a dozen inmates. Most of the media coverage focused on the break from the tradition of washing the feet of the cardinals and on the propriety (or impropriety) of including women in the ritual. Michael Sean Winters, however, wrote about the symbolism of the act in his article titled “Pope Francis & the Washing of Feet” in the April 1 issue of National Catholic Reporter. (more…)
This is the last of a four-part saga. If you missed parts one and two and three, you might want to back up and start from the beginning. (Click here to read part 1 , here to read part 2 and here to read part 3.)
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While Mom played tag with her eggs and apples, Dad was having his own little breakfast adventure. His use of utensils has become a little unorthodox over the past couple of years, especially since his right hand is a little numb from a stroke, but he gets the job done. He got through his eggs, sausage, and apples without incident, but his approach was unusual. After the first few bites of his meal, he pulled the saucer of pancakes closer to him and scooped up a good-sized bite of the ball of butter that was melting on top. Oh, yuck! I thought as I watched him pop the greasy mass into his mouth, but if he shared my feelings, he didn’t show it. He continued to eat without missing a beat. Then he started breaking off bite-sized pieces of pancake with his fingers, using them to push the slippery eggs onto his fork and to sop up the egg yolk from his plate. When the eggs, sausage, and apples were gone, he still had a pancake and a half left on his saucer. He pinched off another bite and stared at the plate with a kind of blank stare while he chewed. It was time for me to intervene. (more…)
This is the third of a four-part saga. If you missed parts one and two, you might want to back up and start from the beginning. (Click here to read part 1 and here to read part 2.)
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The food came before she could get too bored or too disgruntled, but when it came, she was a little dismayed at all the choices laid out in front of her. To deal with her mealtime confusion, she has adopted a one-thing-at-a-time method of eating. I don’t know if the eggs looked the most appetizing or the least intimidating, but that’s where she started. While she worked to cut off a bite-sized piece with the edge of her fork, I took charge of her pancake-filled saucer. I spread the butter, cut the pancakes into manageable pieces, and doused the whole thing with syrup. (more…)
This is the second of a four-part saga. If you missed yesterday’s post, you might want to back up and start from the beginning. (Click here to read yesterday’s post.)
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After the blood tests were finished, we got back into the car with a minimum of confusion and headed for the Village Inn. With the odds at 2 to 1, I didn’t want to go somewhere I had to order at a counter or go through a buffet line. I wanted to sit at a table, order our food, and have it brought to us. The Village Inn fit that bill, and it was Wednesday, so we got free pie, too. I pulled into a parking space close to the door and prayed for a nice, peaceful breakfast. (more…)
I was going through some old files last night looking for an outline I thought I had started on a book idea. I never found the outline, but I came across something I wrote on November 3, 2010 after taking Mom and Dad to the lab to have some bloodwork done and then out to breakfast. It was just six weeks before they moved from my home into an assisted living facility near my brother Jim. I was rapidly approaching burnout, and I wrote this saga to get rid of some of the tension from the outing. I posted it in my Facebook notes, but I didn’t start my blog until six or seven months later, so I thought I’d share it with you. It’s rather long, so I’ve broken it into four parts and will publish a part each day from now through Friday.
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It’s 10:30 in the morning, and I’m exhausted. Today was test day for Mom and Dad. They have their six-month check-up with their PCP next week, and they had an appointment at 8:40 this morning at the lab. Since they had to go in fasting, I planned to take them to breakfast afterward. I knew it would be an adventure. I was right. (more…)
A friend who is also a caregiver recently confided in me that one of the hardest parts of her job is not knowing who will greet her when she gets up in the morning. Will it be the confident, efficient, take-charge man she has known for half a century, or will it be the man who is struggling with a life-threatening illness, the one whose mind is fogged by pain and medications, the one who can’t remember how to tie his shoes? (more…)
