-
Follow
Following
Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
Salty like hot dogs (and tears). Sweet like marmalade (and life).
The following is an edited version of a post first published on January 2, 2012. I wrote it when my mother was still living at home and I was trying to help my father with her. My sister and I can carry on conversations using… Continue Reading “If You Say So”
Χ marks the spot. My mother would sometimes say, “That hits the spot.” Hot soup on a cold day. Ice cold lemonade on a hot day. Lasagne with garlic bread and a fresh tossed salad on any day. I’m pretty sure it’s the same… Continue Reading “X”
The day my mother got ready for the dance was a hard day in her dementia. She tried to dress in nicer clothes, but her fashion sense had gone awry and nothing really matched. Her lipstick looked garish. She perched on the arm of the… Continue Reading “Ache”
Where did you spend your happiest memories with your loved one? Before all this, of course, were there special places you lived or traveled to that you can look back on and feel good about? I forget how the topic came up. The way… Continue Reading “The Teakwood”
What is one of the scariest situations you have been in because of dementia? Let’s face it — dementia can be a scary thing, for everyone involved. Every time I see another news story about someone with dementia wandering off, my stomach tightens. There,… Continue Reading “Scary Travels with Alzheimer’s”
What was the first indication you had that something was not right? Was it a peculiar behavior or a specific incident? My mother always knew six ways to anywhere. And the rest stops along the way. And the quality of the bathrooms at the… Continue Reading “Six Ways to Anywhere”
“You’re the lady with the dog,” a woman said to me at church the other day. “The dog with the fish?” I responded, half-questioning, half completing her sentence. “That’s right,” she said excitedly. Our dog is famous around Greene. She carries a toy, usually… Continue Reading “Knowing My Name”
One of the most precious lessons I have learned (and am still learning) from my mother’s Alzheimer’s is not to take things personally. I have such a tendency to do that! When people say or do little things, and sometimes big things, that are… Continue Reading “My Inner Porcupine”
The other day I walked into the kitchen at lunch to find my mother sitting at the kitchen table with some hot dog buns, a jar of marmalade, a brick of cream cheese, and some leftover chili. She was making sandwiches. The process was… Continue Reading “Orange Ice Dessert”
Lest you think I am picking on my mother later in the post, let me start by listing for you just a few of the things on my desk right now that I can see with moving anything. a pack of gum a golf… Continue Reading “Disorganization”
Hot Dogs and Marmalade 