Home Health Aides For Dementia Patients Can Be a Wonderful Thing

Posted on February 15, 2015 by Lynn Brophy

Taking care of a parent with Alzheimer’s disease or dementia can be very challenging and also exhausting for the caretaker. I was many years into it before I realized that I needed the help of a Home Health Aide. I was lucky, the first timeout of the gate with Cardine. She was the first Home Health Aide that was send to help with my mother suffering with dementia. She became my hero very quickly.

When first taking on a parent with dementia, we go through so many different feelings and experiences, that often leaves our heads spinning and feeling frustrated all at the same time. Many of us don’t have a healthcare background or any resources at our fingertips to help us cope and make sense of the situation that unfolds before our eyes on a daily basis. Really, we are flying blindly into the path of the oncoming train, sometimes, not understanding what’s ahead.

When I first took on my mother, after moving into my house from her California apartment, I noticed a few little things, but like we all do, it’s brushed off as “oh, she’s just getting older”. After awhile the symptoms get worse and we know that something is very wrong. After we seek a diagnosis, we start our journey into the unknown with our loved one. Life for your parent will never be the same and for you also. It’s almost like when you become a first time parent, changing your life forever, only this time it’s with an unhappy prognosis.

For years I took care of Mom and we went through all of the different stages that most dementia patients and caretakers go through, paranoia, accusations, hiding their belongings, aggressiveness, depression, sadness, incontinence, denial, lack of interest in daily hygiene, preoccupation in trying to make sense of paperwork, confusion, wandering, getting lost, looking for her mother, loss of words and substitution of words, etc. There were so many more things that I went through with her, and since we are all living individual experiences, I’m sure others have gone through even different things that I know nothing of. My situation with Mom, finally came to a point where I could no longer leave her alone while I was at work because she was a safety hazard to herself and others. That’s when I started researching and got the social workers involved, finally getting on the right track in finding a Home Health Aide for Mom.

It was a long road to learning what to do in order to get help at home, but through Mom’s doctor, who had earlier applied for the Visiting Nurse Service to come to give her B12 shots every month, I was introduced to the social workers of that organization. Since her condition was becoming a safety issue, we discussed our options through meetings and house calls. Of course, I couldn’t afford to go out and hire a Home Health Aide on my salary, so I was naturally feeling very stressed on how to bring help in. Working was something that I must do in order to survive, it’s not debatable as with so many caretakers in the same situation these days. It’s a huge dilemma for all involved.

Needless to say, we found a way and soon thereafter, Cardine arrived. She was the best thing that had every happened to us since Mom came to live with me. We were so lucky to have her as she was experienced, compassionate, concerned and very good at her job. She was mentally present at all times, always putting my Mother’s best interest first. I was very relieved that we were so fortunate to have found her.

Cardine had 12 hour shifts, 5 days a week making it possible to commute to my job and keep the roof over our heads. She would take care of every need that my Mother had, personal hygiene, meals, bathing, companionship, arts and crafts, interaction and keeping her mind engaged and active. She was a one woman band and a rock star in her profession. While I was at work, I was absolutely sure that my demented Mom was in good hands and also safe at home. She wasn’t lonely, and she was content and well taken care of. What more could I ask for?

Photos: (1) Cardine on Mom’s 86th birthday, (2) Cardine drying Mom’s hair after a shampoo, (3) Cardine and Mom, Eleanor Van Meter doing puzzles together.

Home Health Aides are a wonderful choice for your loved one.

Bottom line for me, Home Health Aides are a wonderful choice for your loved one. If you can find the right fit through an agency, it will change your world and that of your parent.

They will make the quality of life for the patient and the caretaker better, giving more time to enjoy with your loved one. If you find yourself in this situation, reach out to a social worker through agencies in your area. Reach out to the Alzheimer’s Association who can advise you further. Call the physician caring for your parent, who can open many doors. Although it may be different for others, In my experience, if you don’t ask them, they won’t offer any open channels for help in the home. You must present your needs and concerns to make it known that it is a safety issue. They will then advise what avenues and options are open to you. There are ways to provide a loved one with a Home Health Aide if you are financially unable.

How To Speak To A Person With Dementia

Posted on February 8, 2015 by Lynn Brophy

Taking care of a loved one when they are suffering from Alzheimer’s disease or dementia is a very challenging task as we all know. It’s probably one of the hardest things that you will ever have to do in your lifetime, but it is also a monumental accomplishment.

In the beginning, you will notice small things like forgetfulness and little things that might seem like unusual behavior, but even then, you might brush it off as a result of stress or being over scheduled. When the episodes become more frequent and you find yourself standing there scratching your head, because you know that there is something very real happening to them. Instinctively, you know, that life will never be the same for you or them.

(Photos) (1) Eleanor Van Meter with her grandmother. So young and pretty! (2) Eleanor, Mom, with my father, Edward Brophy on a boat, somewhere, appearing to be enjoying themselves…with her whole life ahead of her. Who knew what the future would bring?

The behaviors, of course can vary with each individual, but many of the behaviors, I have found strangely enough, to be identical to other patients suffering from this disease, leading me to believe that the same part of the brain is effected in all patients at this stage of the disease. As in the case with my mother, Eleanor Van Meter, as she started into her journey with dementia, I found that she would be very paranoid. She would always be hiding things and then forgetting where she hid them. When she couldn’t recall where she hid them, she would make a beeline straight for me, accusing me of everything under the sun. I’d be sitting at the computer in my kitchen, where I normally would be on a Sunday afternoon, and she would shuffle in with a puss on her face a mile long and fury in her eyes, heading straight over to me. “Where are my credit cards, where are my medical cards? You took them, I know that you did…you were always a rotten kid, I should have never had you, you little shit.” The first time that happened, I was completely taken off guard, immediately I felt hurt because of her words and then I became defensive while declaring loudly that I never touched her things…I wouldn’t do that. In the beginning, I didn’t know how to handle this, knowing that I didn’t steal anything, but at the same time not knowing how to speak with her about it so as to not fuel the fire making it worse. Actually, in the beginning, you are so taken off guard, you are not thinking of anything except defending yourself and your honor against their harsh words. That train of thought would soon would change…

Through the school of hard knocks, I learned first hand, that arguing with someone who has dementia is an argument that you will never win. Never, never, never, ever try to argue with your loved one with dementia. You will NEVER win…EVER! They have a way of going around and around and in the end, you will be so frustrated that you will want to cry or explode, whichever comes first. So, how do we speak with our demented parents in that situation? I came to learn, first and foremost, be calm, speak softly, slowly and with compassion about them having lost their things. There is nothing that you can say that will make them believe that they hid it somewhere, forgetting where they put it. They can’t remember that little fact. They only remember where the object always resided before. Their brains are not working correctly anymore and certainly not in the way yours works. They honestly believe that you stole their things….because they certainly wouldn’t have moved anything themselves.

It’s important to sympathize with their loss and that the missing object will probably turn up, and how sorry you are that they can’t find it. Chances are, they won’t believe a word you are saying, but at least in the end, you know that you spoke with them in a loving way and that you tried not to upset them any more than they already are. Validating their feelings and their loss will only help the situation and you stand a better chance of calming them down and snapping them out of the dementia attack.

You might want to try and change the conversation to something else, such as I used to do with my mother. In hard times such as this, I would ask her if she would like to listen to Pavarotti, her favorite singer. She would always agree and we’d go back into her room and I’d pop the cd into the player, she would sit there listening as if she was in a trance, forgetting about her earlier concerns. This was usually the best part of her day and I was happy to see the peaceful look on her face once again as she appeared to almost be floating on every note that Pavarotti was singing. That was heaven on earth to her.

Funny thing, most times when my mother snapped out of a dementia attack, after accusing me of stealing things, later, she would always come to me and apologize.

I would ask her, you remember acting that way? She would say yes…I can’t seem to stop once it starts. I always found that amazing…it was living proof to me that she was very aware that there was something very wrong with her.

How to Diagnose Dementia or Alzheimer’s Disease?

Posted on January 31, 2015 by Lynn Brophy

Diagnosing dementia or Alzheimer’s disease isn’t an easy task. Finding the right doctors who ask the right questions and order up the right tests and scans can take time and effort on your part, but it is important that we take the steps to assure the diagnosis is made.

The signs of dementia and Alzheimer’s disease may come on very slowly and when you see someone all the time, you are less likely to notice it right away. You may notice forgetfulness and think to yourself, well, we all forget once in awhile. But then it becomes more noticeable in that your loved one is forgetting more often and it’s then you know for sure that something is going on.

With my mother, Eleanor Van Meter, it happened slowly in the beginning also. She lived in California and I lived in New York, so we were forced to speak by phone on Sundays to catch up and check in. I had noticed that she was forgetting a little here and there, but so do I, it’s normal. I really didn’t give it much thought other than, Oh, she’s just getting older and slower now, nothing to worry about. Then on that fateful day in August of 2008, while at work, I get a phone call at 12 noon from her apartment manager…Mom had fallen and broken her hip. The ambulance had come to take her to the hospital.

Photos: above (1) Google image, (2) drawing by Lucia Whittaker, via flickr, right, Mom in doctor’s office waiting for a routine visit

After a hip replacement and physical therapy, it was decided between us, that she would come live with me. I went out to California to clean out her apartment, then picked her up from a respite stay and we flew back to NY. I converted my home office to a bedroom and that was to become her room for 6 and a half years. It went well at first but then little by little the strange behavior began, more incidents of forgetfulness, accusations and paranoia. Then all of a sudden, she would snap out of it, which is the confusing part. Later, she would sometimes apologize for the way she acted…she realized her behavior was bad, but couldn’t stop herself. I began to think that maybe she was so used to living on her own for so many years, that she was behaving this way because she just wasn’t used to having people around all the time.

Of course after awhile, I began to think that I needed to speak with her general, geriatric physician on the next routine appointment, which I did. He gave her a 5 minute memory test and proceeded to dismiss me, saying she was fine, no dementia. I tried to explain that I live with her and I see and feel that something is wrong. He disagreed. We went home and the behavior continued.

After another 6 months of this behavior, I knew that I must research and find out more on what I should do to address what is happening before my very eyes. I found that a Neurologist or Geriatric Psychiatrist was a doctor who was qualified in diagnosing dementia and Alzheimer’s disease. I found a Geriatric Psychiatrist located about 20 minutes from my home that came highly recommended. I made an appointment and filled out extensive paperwork, he examined her with many follow up appointments thereafter as the progression of the disease went on. Diagnosis was an ongoing process and observation. He worked with me on every level and concern in order to handle the disease and the quality of life for all involved.

As the disease progressed, of course there were adjustments that were needed to be made with her medications to suppress the aggressive behaviors, and there were many, believe me. It was not always easy, but he would always help the situation at hand, making it a better home life for all of us without over medicating her. Every drug regiment is different for each person and the doctor must find the right combination for the situation. In my mother’s case, Ambilify in combination with other prescribed drugs was the magic brew that made her from the wicked witch of the west to a fairy godmother once again! She was then reverted back into the sweet little person she had always been before this dreaded disease put it’s evil grip on her. For another person it might be a different drug…it’s individual.

The bottom line is, if you suspect your loved one has dementia or Alzheimer’s disease, research the specialized doctors in your area, try to find a social worker who can help or recommend a doctor, which, in my humble opinion, is the best way to find a good doctor. You can be sure if someone else has had a great experience with a given doctor, you probably will also. Don’t wait until the situation becomes unbearable causing resentful feelings between you and the person effected. Your mother, your father, aunt or uncle or wife, they deserve the best care you can give them. They are at the end of their life and as in the case of my mother, she knew exactly that this was happening to her, maybe not understanding what it was, but she was aware. Just try to imagine how that must feel.

Looking back, it’s the saddest thing ever to watch as they decline into the void, and knowing that they are aware.

Alzheimer’s Disease, Dementia and Mental Decline

Posted on January 25, 2015 by Lynn Brophy

Alzheimer’s disease and dementia has effected more and more people over the years. Babyboomers are all coming to age and have been faced with taking care of their elderly and aging parents, either coming to live with them or caring for them in the parental home. Either way, it is not easy, mentally, emotionally or physically. It’s hard to see the very parent who was once your tower of strength, come to a point where they are declining so much that you are becoming their parent and they your child. Most of the time we are doing this while trying to manage our own families, kids plus working full time. It’s becoming a desperate time for our generation and shows no signs of slowing down any time soon.

Photos Above: (1) Mom’s handwriting in 1985, (2) Mom’s handwriting at work, shorthand, (3) Mom’s handwriting 2014 weeks before her death, (4) below, Mom at an office party with Maury Amsterdam at what was most likely Bozell & Jacobs in NYC in the 50’s or 60’s.

My mother, Eleanor Van Meter was a very intelligent woman. She aspired her whole young life to be a career woman, and that she was. She worked in NYC at prestigious companies as an executive assistant, usually with the head of the company that she worked for. She had many responsibilities and took it very seriously. So, with that said, it was so hard for me to see her decline to the degree that she did while living with me. I looked at her as my superior, both mentally and in pecking order as a parent. And then, without a moments notice, I was her parent. How are we expected to cope with that?

I watched her slow decline over the span of about 6 and a half years after a fall in a supermarket, breaking her hip. A once brilliant woman, was now arguing with me on a daily basis, accusing me of all sort of crazy and insane things and at first, I would be hurt by her words, but then after educating myself, I understood what I was dealing with. Her father also had dementia, but being a young person at that time, I don’t remember this side of the disease with him. I do remember him sliding into the void, not knowing us, just staring into space with void eyes while confined to a wheelchair. I realized that this was the direction that my mother was heading in.

My mom was a born office worker. When living with me, a good day for her would be to sit in her room going through all sorts of paperwork, which could keep her busy for hours upon hours. She was no longer able to take care of her monthly affairs, so I had to take over for her. She would sit with her boxes of papers for long periods of time sorting and filing and trying to make head or tails of them. I knew that she didn’t understand what she was looking at, but was trying desperately to figure things out. After all, it’s what she had done almost her whole adult life and now she would sit baffled by what she was looking at, yet at the same time knowing in her heart that she used to know.

She loved the English language and would pride herself on her poetry and the use of the words in her writing. She also wrote letters, diaries and journals for years. Her best friend Noreen, who has known her since the early days in NYC, has told me of how wonderful mom was in her professional life. She also told me how her letters were so brilliantly and carefully written, that she could have been a professional writer. She was that good with the English language. The images above are some of the things that I found in her papers which demonstrates the obvious decline in her handwriting. The first one, just an excerpt from one of her journals, was a nostalgic look back from when she was a child. It was a happy time and written in her usual handwriting that I remember so well. The second is her professional handwriting, shorthand, taught in school and used throughout her adult life in both professional and personal times. I don’t know much about shorthand but I felt as if it was a different language, and as individual as she was. She would use it right up until the time her mind started declining. The third image is something she wrote a few weeks before her death. It’s hard to look at and certainly hard to understand how the mind could decline so drastically so as not to be able to remember the very thing that fueled her existence in better years. I can see on the second line that she was trying to write her name, ELEANOR. She started out with all caps and just couldn’t resolve it in the end, leading her to just scribble. How frustrating it must have been for her. I would ask her on several occasions when she couldn’t get the words right, “you know exactly what you want to say, don’t you…but you just can’t find the words, right”. She would always say yes, and I saw the pain in her eyes. Dementia wasn’t who she was, it was what she suffered from. Who she was, was an intelligent, highly organized and professional person with a very kind soul.

The very saddest thing, is that they know it’s happening to them…they know what they were once able to do, but no longer can do. They don’t understand why, but they absolutely know it’s happening to them. This is a very cruel disease.

Happy Birthday Mom, I Hope You’re Celebrating Wherever You Are, Without Dementia

Posted on January 22, 2015 by Lynn Brophy

Photos of Eleanor Van Meter: (1) Mom on her 86th birthday last year with her wonderful Home Aide, Cardine, January 22nd, (2) Mom, on birthday night, ready for bed after candles and cake

Hard for me to believe that a whole year has gone by since my Mom, Eleanor’s last birthday. Seems like yesterday really. I look at the photos above and can hardly believe how good she looked and feisty she was, as in comparison to the last few weeks last September. If she had been able to hang on for a few months longer, she would have been 87 today. She would be, what I believe, to be the oldest person from this side of the family. It would have been quite a milestone for her and for me, in knowing that we did it…but it was not to be.

Before she moved in with me, we would talk by phone every Sunday night about writing a children’s book together. It’s something that I have always wanted to do and together with her, we could have made a great team, if only her dementia could have been held at bay awhile longer. She had a way with words, and she loved them, writing and combining different words to suit what she was feeling at the time. She could be quite whimsical as well. I could have illustrated the book and she would be a major contributor of the writing…and there you have it, a mother and daughter production…but it was not meant to be…at that time at least. I still have intensions of writing this children’s book, but now, it will be a tribute to her rather than a collaboration. It’s okay…her influence will be obvious in spite of it all.

Mom also loved poetry. She loved reading it and she loved writing it. I have a whole folder of things that she has written, some of which came from her darker days after she had lost the love of her life, Dwight Van Meter. The poem that I cite here was an interesting and simplified look at what she was must have been thinking of her life in that particular year, with regards to how her life has changed over the years. I probably wouldn’t have understood her feelings when I was younger, but I certainly understand it now.

Photos of Eleanor Van Meter: (3) My favorite childhood photo of my mother, she was a cutie at the beach. (4) Mom with me, another favorite with her huge smile, (5) Mom looking great in her summer fashion.

How happy
as a child
I walked into the sun,
Squinting and laughing,
full of mirth,
Secure in a world of light,
The sun
now always at my back,
I turn to see once more
the shining past
Before the night
envelopes me at last,
I remember it was good,
I thank God,
and walk on,
Secure in a world of memories

Eleanor Van Meter

Mom was a very deep person with many feelings that she mostly kept tucked inside, but after reading some of her writings, I can see she let it all out in her poetry. I think that it gave her peace. I remember after she had moved in with me almost 7 years ago, her poetry folder was the most important thing to her. Nobody was allowed to see it and after the dementia started to take a hold, I would find her ripping up a few pages. I sensed that she probably didn’t want anyone knowing that part of her, or maybe, she possibly let out too much of what she was feeling at the time and wanted to keep it secret. It’s okay, I still have a few left that I can look through from time to time as a memory of her. I have a few of the poetry books that she particularly loved with pages earmarked and notes taken on some of the pages which can be very telling also. I think that there was so much more to her than what we saw. Like all of us, she was an original and I will always miss her. Happy Birthday Mom!

After Losing My Demented Mom, Now What?

Posted on January 4, 2015 by Lynn Brophy

Funny how sometimes, when things are on our minds, we find ourselves thinking in our sleep. I mean we are sleeping, but while we lay there asleep, our brains are going over things that are on our minds, things that are bothering us. That’s how this post came about….now that Mom is gone, now what? How do the holidays or any other day work for me now? Everything takes on a different meaning since September. Before, my days were spent focused on Mom, no matter where I was, she was the priority…now I have to adjust my thinking.

Since my Mother passed from Dementia/Leukemia this past September, other thoughts are starting to come forward and have been flooding in, uninvited, especially during the holidays this year. Now that I have no elder family members left, I am looking at the road ahead and seeing where it’s all going. Not that in every family it will go this way…but everyone is different with different experiences and different ways of dealing with life. There are divorces, marriages, ex’s, in-laws and the stresses of care taking an elderly parent which contribute to how things will be, changing the rules of the traditional holiday game forever forward.

Photos Above: (1) Kim, Kerry and Jennifer on Christmas Day with handmade dolls and store bought dolls in their Holiday outfits. (2) Kim and Kerry with Santa

Looking around on Facebook, seeing all of my friends posting their happy family gatherings in photos during the holidays, was very reminiscent of earlier times in my life, when things were better and the family was a solid unit. Every Christmas was a “New Year”, bringing with it new Xmas lists for Santa. I always had my work cut out for me, but I didn’t mind, I loved it. I loved making it all come true for all of them. With every year being different, with different requests, different expectations and different gift themes, there was a lot to prepare before the big day.

Early on we had started out with a real tree, making the house smell like a pine forest…it was wonderful…very Xmas-sy. It would get everyone into the mood for the holiday season. A 10-month old Hannibal, the Great Dane, peed on his first Christmas tree one particular year…I guess he was confused! That was a story that has been told over and over throughout the years.

Some years, I would spend the months before the holiday, sewing, from the time the kids went to school until the time they came home, to make sure everyone had a new outfit, top or craft, including the adults. My mother still had some of what I made for her when she moved in with me almost 7 years ago. Other years there were things like Cabbage Patch Dolls, which were so in demand back then. I would have to get up with the birds, literally, and go stand on lines at the toy stores to assure I would get 2 dolls in time for Christmas. Another year, I had also sewn 3 Cabbage Patch doll-like dolls for them. Along with other store bought dolls of their choice, there were 2 for my kids and 1 for their friend Jennifer Brengartner. So that year, they got 2 dolls each, one hand made and one store bought doll.

Photos Below: (3) One of the early Xmas trees (4) Kim Paul, Kerry Paul and friend Karen Kearns with Cabbage Patch Dolls on Xmas day. Kim sporting her fashionable neon!

No…it didn’t end there, by any stretch of the imagination…there was more. When I look back, I can see that I left no stones unturned. We would get up on Christmas morning, the husband and I would get our cups of tea so that we could sit and watch the kids open their gifts, which would take about 2 or more hours. Yep…just like most parents, we went overboard…or, shall I say, I went overboard. We all know that husbands don’t do any of the preparing, at least not in our house at that time. The shopping, the wrapping, and all the preparations for the holidays were up to me, and looking back, I feel that I did a good job of it. In the years that the kids were in school our tree had so many gifts underneath that we could hardly get into the room on Christmas morning. It was wonderful to watch the excitement in the kid’s faces as they walked into the room in the very early morning. So many gifts, some asked for, some not but we all know how nice it is to have gifts under the tree, just for us to open on the big day. The anticipation and the warm feeling of the day helped to create the excitement.

After a few hours of gift opening, and while the kids were looking deeper into their gifts, I would then put together the expected Christmas breakfast, which normally would be an egg-sausage casserole, that would become a yearly tradition. That would usually hold everyone over until dinnertime, with a little snacking throughout the day, until a few other family members would arrive for holiday dinner. During the day, there would be Christmas music or holiday movies, and a lot of Xmas spirit flowing throughout the house. It was a wonderfully warm feeling…at least for me as I favorably recall. The day was usually a huge production and took a lot of work to put together, with planning and cooking dinner to make sure everything was good and festive for all. There were years and years of this routine, always with a lot of heart and soul put into it, leaving no stones unturned. It was no easy task for someone who came from so much less, but none-the-less, I did it and it became the yearly tradition until the last Christmas that we were all together in the year 2000.

Looking back, I have no regrets, absolutely none. I feel as if I did all that I could do to assure the holidays were festive and happy, with warm feelings for all in our family and circles during those years. Things happen in life that prevent us from participating, as with me, life altering events…a divorce, 5 years of college, full time job and taking on my demented Mom. As fate would have it, since the year 2000, I’ve all but fell off the radar during the holidays, but it’s okay. Sometimes it’s necessary to move forward in order to accommodate the situation. Kids grow up, get married, have families of their own…celebrate in their own way……life goes on!

Photos Above: (5) Mom and Dwight Van Meter back in the 70’s at her parent’s house during the holidays, (6) A Christmas village that her father, Bruno Sarter would set up every year using little cars, houses, trucks and everyday street items that he saved since childhood. In it’s entirety, it was quite impressive.

According to numerology, as studied by my Mother throughout her whole life and taught to her by her Aunt Emily, our life is divided up into thirds which are called Pinnacle cycles, each covering 30 years. I am now into the third and last Pinnacle cycle of my life and since each person is an individual, all having different experiences, fate and karma, not to mention lessons to learn this time around, I am sure that the universe is giving me what I need at this time…and I am also confident that this too shall pass!

Accept what is, let go of what was, and have faith in what will be!

New Year’s Day, Thinking of Mom, Saying Goodbye to 2014 and Dementia

Posted on January 1, 2015 by Lynn Brophy

Here we are, New Year’s Day 2015, a new year for all, bearing new possibilities with every day. A fresh start with new hopes and dreams set forth into the months to come…New Year’s resolutions. I have to say, that I am more than happy to say goodbye to 2014 than any other year that I can remember, not that I wouldn’t want to go back a year when Mom’s struggles weren’t so serious. Maybe, I could have been more aware of what was to come and been more present…the shouldda’s, couldda’s, wouldda’s. But we can’t do that, we can only hold on to the good memories, knowing that we did the best we could under the circumstances, which is what I choose to do where my Mother is concerned. I was lucky to have had her in my life for the 6 years that she lived with me here, even with the struggles, which never would have happened if she hadn’t been sick with Dementia and needed my help.

Photos Above: (1) Eleanor Sarter (Mom) and Lynn, sporting a similar haircut to Mom in her childhood years, sitting on the stone wall in Greenwood Lake, 1957, (2) A blurred, blue, photo of Mom sitting on her Mother’s back stairs looking very young and carefree in her flowy dress. Wonder what she was thinking about?
Photos Below: (3) Eleanor Sarter (Mom) with Lynn on bench in Greenwood Lake at her Aunt’s house, (4) Newspaper clipping from years ago that Her Mother found meaningful. It was about your thoughts, somewhat similar to my last post of “A Man Thinketh”. Keeping that train of thought alive. Words to live by!

This dreaded disease of dementia shouldn’t define your loved one. It’s not who they were and not what they should be remembered by….it was their bad fortune to have been afflicted with it, but it didn’t define their life. I might say the same about the other diseases that Mom picked up along the way such as Parkinson’s disease and Leukemia…or any disease for that matter. No disease should define someone…we all are who we are and have accomplished great things in our life time, making wonderful memories, none of which include disease. Bask in the memories, the good stuff that they left behind! It’s all we have now.

Today, on this first day of 2015, I am reflecting the past year…and also thinking about how I can put my projects into action. Projects that have been in my mind for a few years now, but never really having time to start. You’d think that with Mom gone, I’d have more free time, but for some reason, I almost feel like I have less time…but do I really? When I look at some of the things that need to be done weekly, I can see a lot of my personal time is spent on busy work, which is exactly what everyone else I speak to says. Of course being gone from the house 12 hours a day to be at work doesn’t help my cause. That’s crazy nuts! I know that someday that will change, because we can’t work forever, but I sure would like to get my projects into action before that happens. Perseverance…little by little….step by step…inch by inch…it’s all cumulative! Just Do It!

Holiday Magic While Thinking of My Demented Mom

Posted on December 28, 2014 by Lynn Brophy

It’s December 28, 2014, a few days after the first Christmas without my Mom, and I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, reflecting, thinking and reflecting. Looking through papers and things of hers, if only to feel closer to her during the holidays…especially this holiday.

So, yesterday, the Saturday after Xmas, I’ve finished my errands outside of the house, I’m home and had decided to straighten up things that have been on my list for a long time. Cleaning up stacks of paperwork that have been begging to be organized and filed for ages, put away the wrapping paper, bows, tissue paper and ribbons, clean the birds, wash the dog, vacuum the floor, clean the bathroom…all those things that you really must do, but really don’t want to do, uh-huh!

So, as I am going along, one thing leads to another and I made the decision to bring my mother’s end table into my bedroom. I had bought it for her when she first decided to come live with me and I liked it very much. Now of course, it just reminds me of her when I look at it. It needs to be refinished as she had ruined the surface during her OCD days, but I will do that in the springtime. I brought the table into my room and started making a few changes, cleaning around, moving things from here to there. It was kind of nice, a quiet time in my weekend, almost like getting myself re-grounded after a hard year. As a kid, I had always felt like a new person after moving the furniture around in my bedroom, which is what yesterday was feeling like to me. Some people need to go out and spend money…I move furniture!

As I was going through the motions, I came across a box of jewelry that Mom had sent to me before she moved here. It wasn’t expensive jewelry, mostly costume from the 60’s & 70’s, but I had remembered some it from when I was younger. I had looked through it back when she had sent it, but didn’t pay much attention, which seems to be my MO. I always feel funny in a situation like that. I know darn well she sent those things to me because she was thinking of death and dying as older people eventually do…but I don’t feel the right to it until later, afterwards, so I ignore it. Well, yesterday, I paid more attention, looking at each piece carefully. I came across many little pieces that I remember her wearing to her job and a few things that I didn’t remember.

Then, there was one thing that stood out, a very tarnished silver ID bracelet with her name on it. Instantly, it brought me back to a story that she told me a few years ago, when she still had a memory and could articulate it, before the dementia had taken over her mind. As the story goes…when her and her sister Lillian were just kids, a new Pastor came to their church, St. Andrews. Apparently Lillian had quite a crush on this good-looking Pastor, but it was just a schoolgirl crush and maybe the pastor knew about it or maybe not. We’ll never know the answer to that.

One Sunday, after Sunday school, the Pastor gave my mother a little ID bracelet and poor Lillian was so hurt by it. She felt awful and so did my Mother. Mom didn’t have a crush on the Pastor, she was 5 years younger than her sister and probably wasn’t interested in any boys at that point. Lillian eventually got over it, grew up, got married and had 4 beautiful children…so what was meant to be, indeed happened.

Photos Above: (1) Eleanor Sarter and Sister Lillian with Freda, her Aunt, (2) Lillian and Eleanor, Right: (3) ID Bracelet from Pastor.

Getting back to the ID bracelet, the instant that I saw it, read her given name on it, the story that she had told me a few years earlier came flooding back to me. I wished that I could have made the connection before now and was able to show her. I’m sure that she didn’t even remember that she had sent it to me in the first place. Sometimes I think that she leads me to find things to make a connection to it’s meaning…from wherever she is…not so far-fetched. Stranger things have happened, which is another story for another time as this was not the first time this has happened since she left us.

Holidays, Mom and Thoughts on “As a Man Thinketh”

Posted on December 25, 2014 by Lynn Brophy

Photos: (1) Xmas day & dinner at my Grandparent’s house. Mom, her Father (also with dementia) and Lynn…a lot of clashing fabrics going on there, (2) My Grandparents, Mom’s Parents on Christmas day modeling a few gifts! I’m sure my grandmother was mortified. Below: As a Man Thinketh

During these “Holi-days”, I’ve been thinking of my Mom, Eleanor Sarter, Brophy, Van Meter, whose physical presence is missing, but her huge footprint has been left behind for me to observe, feel and ponder. She loved poetry of all kinds and had many books that she used to look at over and over throughout the years, while marking the pages of some of her favorites. There was a book called “As a Man Thinketh” by James Allen, that she particularly loved. Years ago, before computers, she had typed up this one passage from the book that she obviously found great comfort in. She made hundreds of copies and shared them with everyone. I have many of them in my papers throughout the years and I had found numerous copies tucked away in her papers as well, after she passed away. It reads as follows:

Ideals

As you think, you travel; as you love, you attract. You are today where your thoughts have brought you, and you will be tomorrow where your thoughts take you. You cannot escape the result of your thoughts, but you can endure and learn, accept and be glad. You will realize the visions (not the idle wish) of your heart, be it base or beautiful, or a mixture of both, for you will always gravitate toward that which you, secretly, most love. Into your hands will be placed the exact result of your thoughts; you will receive that which you earn; no more, no less. Whatever your present environment may be, you will fall, remain, or rise with your thoughts, your vision, your ideal. You will become as small as your controlling desire; as great as your dominant aspiration.

James Allen

I’ve looked at it over the years and even put a copy up on my refrigerator…but I wonder if I ever really, truly read it as thoroughly as I have since her death. Of course I read it, but did I understand it from a deeper level? I’m not so sure. She was a very deep and pensive person in her day and loved to get involved in passages like this one by James Allen. When I read it now, I realize that I must take responsibility for where I am in life today, because it’s true that our thoughts lead us to where we are today. Our thoughts can be our greatest success or our worst failures in life. We often go through life not realizing that our thoughts can mold us into who we are or intend to be and lead us to the right way or the wrong way….so then who do we have to blame for a bad circumstance in life…yep, ourselves. Maybe if we picked our thoughts more carefully and intentionally, we could all be in a circumstance that could be embraced.

James Allen says that we will always gravitate towards the things that we most love which many of us never really pay attention to. We pick our college courses, career paths and jobs and then find ourselves in situations that are absolute drudgery, just to put a roof over our heads. We resent our alarm clocks that wake us up in the morning on Mondays, only to pray for Friday to come quickly. That’s a terrible way to go through life. We are wishing our lives away. Then, when we are on our personal time, we do what we love to do…or we get stuck doing what we must do in order to be ready to go back to work on Monday…therefore, the phrase Rat Race. Wouldn’t it be a wonderful thing if we could all go through our lives consciously, wide awake, choosing how we spend our time, whether it be making a living or personal time or hobby. Using our thoughts to mold our lives into that wonderful place where we could both enjoy and support ourselves at the same time. As the saying goes…do what you love to do and the money will follow… but as we all know, it doesn’t always go that way. Some people have had it figured out from an early age…and some of us are slow…like myself!

Mom obviously saw herself somewhere in this passage and I try to think of exactly what she was thinking, with regards to herself. She had a very hard life with her OCD disorder from the age of 15, so it is my guess that she dreamed on how she could create a better life, or circumstance for herself with her thoughts. She was a good person with very good and pure thoughts, never being mean to anyone in her life…so why was her circumstances so difficult? Obvioulsy, in her late years, her thoughts were disintegrating rapidly from dementia, and she was quite aware of it, making her very sad. But, I wonder, was she able to use this passage to her advantage before her dementia took hold? I’d like to think that it gave her peace to think it was possible.

Thinking of you Mom, on this first Christmas day without you here. Merry Christmas wherever you are!

First Holiday Season After Mom’s Departure. Dementia and Leukemia Suck!

Posted on December 21, 2014 by Lynn Brophy

Photos: (1) Mom opening her gifts, Xmas 2013, (2) Our Skinny Little Xmas Tree,
Below: (3) Mom at Xmas Time in California during Better Times.

Holiday time is upon us and it will be the first Christmas since Mom’s death. Still hard to believe, but it’s the first Christmas that she won’t be around…in California or here with me…feels a little strange. I guess the first holiday, things always feel strange and definitely commands thought.

As I put up the little tree last weekend, immediately, thoughts go back to last year when Mom actually helped me to decorate the tree, which was unusual. Since she came to live with me, she seemed childlike at Christmastime and even though she didn’t have any want-lists, she seemed excited the same way everyone feels this time of year. The season seems to bring out warm feelings in everyone and she was no exception, even with her state of mind and the depth of her dementia. I’d give her an ornament and say….ok, find a nice spot on the tree for this one. She would look around and after carefully thinking it over, then put it in a good place. She’d stand there looking at everything just being happy with the day and the excitement in the air.

When Mom lived by herself in California, I’m sure she must have felt the holiday spirit since she would always send a gift and cards filled with love and holiday spirit. But I know in my heart that she didn’t have a tree or decorations around the house. I don’t think it was because she wasn’t feeling it….I think it was more associated with the OCD disorder that she suffered with which was crippling to her. And, for all I know, the dementia was probably slowly creeping in giving her a slanted way of handling things. Coming to live with me is really the best thing that happened to her since she lost her husband Dwight Van Meter. Even with the dementia marching on, I believe that she started to enjoy life a little more than before knowing that she had no worries with her caregiving. We live somewhat normally, well, as normal as you can these days…but it was good for her to be around people to pull her out of her comfort zone.

This time of year, we should think of the people, like my mother, who have disorders, diseases and circumstances that prevent them from enjoying life and the warmth of the season. Today’s world has become very commercial and because of that, sometimes remembering the spirit of the season is forgotten and these people who are just a little bit different, are lost in the shuffle. It’s not about the biggest and most expensive gift you can get….its a celebration and the warmth and opening of hearts on this important day for Christians. Because Mom lived during the depression, she as all the people back then, got back to basics knowing that there was joy in the season in just being with family, together in a warm home, with a holiday dinner, being grateful for what they had. I wonder how the elderly people in nursing homes are feeling, those who don’t have the luxury of being with their caregivers and family members during the holidays?

Today, I am thinking about the elderly who have nobody during this holiday season!

Boomerang-Parents

Omg…My Elderly Mother has Dementia and is Living with Me!

Author Archives: Lynn Brophy