Another year is in the books. As we look back on 2022, it’s easy to focus on the negative, but I hope you will cut yourself some slack and take time to celebrate what went well this year. Finding those good moments can be difficult when one is in a challenging caregiving situation. One suggestion that I’ve seen online is to get a jar and write on a slip of paper one good thing that happened each week. At the end of the year, the jar will be filled with highlights. If you are more digitally inclined you could keep a spreadsheet or use an app. It’s a simple way to make sure you don’t overlook your achievements.
My biggest achievement in 2022 was publishing my children’s book, Slow Dog. I began the year taking a course on writing for children, where I came up with the idea but waited until the summer to get serious about the project. If I had waited any longer, the book may never have existed as I got laid off from my job just two months after it was published. Timing is everything and sometimes the universe gives you a nudge just when you need it.
I hope 2023 will bring you good health and success in what matters to you.
Christmas was a simple affair for my small family, but a holiday I remember fondly. I can still smell the cinnamon sticks featured in the holiday decoration in the far left of this family photo. I kept some of the brightly colored balls we used to decorate our small tree and they now decorate my tabletop tree, some 40 years later.
Wishing you and your loved ones a happy holiday. I hope you get to spend it with loved ones and that the deep freeze doesn’t disrupt your plans. Stay warm and safe!
It has been 11 years since my father died. The weather is similar as it was on that day, a chilly rain, which in turn is typical Irish weather and reminds me of my father’s homeland.
The moment I received the call from my mother that my father was gone is forever embedded in my memory. The death of a parent is one of those world-stopping moments. It’s not something you get over, but the tide of life will continue to push you forward.
Witnessing the devastation of Alzheimer’s disease first-hand in my family prompted me to become an advocate for finding effective treatments and for better support of family caregivers. I join many others in those causes and I’m grateful for the connections I’ve made through the years.
Sharing your dementia caregiving stories is important and I hope you will continue to do so, whether it’s through a blog or other outlet. I know it’s not always easy to share such personal details, but putting a real face on a disease that has long been kept behind closed doors is essential in raising awareness and building public support for better treatments and services.
My father mattered and so do your loved ones. When those difficult anniversaries come, embrace the good memories and use the tough ones to inspire you to push for change.
I have fond memories of Halloween as a child. My mom went out of her way to make it a fun holiday for me. One year my mom made me a homemade Planet of the Apes costume. I’m so sad there are no photos of my mother’s epic creation. Another year I got a Jaws game, where you fished items out of a plastic shark replica with a hook and tried to avoid the jaws shutting. It was one of my favorite games.
40-plus years later, I still enjoy Halloween: the spooky decorations, the scary movies and yes, the candy. Pets also make Halloween fun.
For those who celebrate, hope you get all treats and no tricks! If you need a last-minute Halloween gift, you can buy Slow Dog as an e-book.
Thinking of Dad on this Father’s Day weekend. One thing I’ve been reflecting on lately is how even when my father was dealing with the latter stages of dementia, he would tell my mother and I to be careful. He was still trying to protect his family.
To those who have lost their fathers to dementia or who are actively caring for their father with dementia, I hope you can find comfort in loving reflections. For those whose fathers are still alive, I hope you get to spend quality time with him this weekend. Finally, I want to recognize all of the amazing male caregivers out there, fathers and husbands and brothers and sons, who care with compassionate strength.
It has been 7 years since my mother died. The pandemic has made time’s passing more difficult for me to track. Seven years feels both not long ago and yet another lifetime ago. I think my mother would be very upset about the state of the world right now, as she always looked for common ground and the good in people. Those things seem to be in short supply these days.
I did have a moment of synchronicity today. I was listening to Glenn Campbell’s late masterpiece albums, Ghost on the Canvas. It was recorded after Campbell’s Alzheimer’s diagnosis and was one of my mother’s favorite albums. It’s one of my favorites too, and I’ve listened to it dozens of times. Today I played it on the YouTube app on my TV and when I looked up during one of the instrumental interludes, I realized the song was titled, May 21, 1969.
I had never noticed this before! According to information I found online, May 21, 1969 was the date the date Campbell’s network variety show debuted on network TV. It would become a hit and known as “The Glen Campbell Goodtime Hour.”
What are the chances that May 21, the day my mother died, would also be in a song title of one of our favorite albums? The moment felt like Mom’s spirit connecting with me through the wonders of the universe.
There is more interesting research going on in the world of Alzheimer’s. Scientists are examining whether the brain’s infrastructure plays a role in a person’s risk of developing Alzheimer’s. A damaged vascular system in the brain could develop cognitive performance issues, akin to an aging power grid that struggles to deliver power to a city, according to the research discussed in this Stanford Medicine Scope blog post.
In looking at a genetic atlas of the brain, researchers found that the “majority of the top Alzheimer’s risk genes are significantly expressed in the [brain’s] vasculature.” If you want to do a deep dive into the research, take a look at the study published in Nature.
The new technology used to create a genetic atlas and the accompanying discoveries give Alzheimer’s researchers new avenues to explore. No cause and effect has been established yet between brain vascular damage and Alzheimer’s risk, but there will now be additional research conducted to examine this area.
What could this mean for potential treatment of Alzheimer’s disease down the road? According to the Tony Wyss-Coray, who runs the lab where the research was conducted, treatments that could target the brain’s vascular system may be more easily accessible as the blood-brain barrier presents a challenge when it comes to getting drugs into the brain.
I’m a big fan of the Netflix show “After Life” created by and starring Ricky Gervais. While the subject matter and profuse profanity make it a show that not everyone will enjoy, I find its take on death and the grieving process refreshing and poignant.
The third and final season debuted this month and I was blown away by one scene in particular, which felt like my mother was speaking to me from beyond the grave.
As I’ve written about extensively on this blog and in my book, The Reluctant Caregiver, my mother was reluctant to discuss any end-of-life issues, but she did give me a poem she had copied by hand and said she would like that read after she died. She didn’t want any service and she chose cremation over burial so it was left to me, her only child, how to honor her wishes.
The poem she chose is the poem that is read during a very moving scene in the final season of “After Life.” When the actress began reciting the poem, I almost jumped out of my seat and my breath caught in my throat. The poem is fairly well-known but still, what are the chances that the poem my mother chose was the one that was recited on a TV show?
I chose to honor my mother’s wishes by not only reciting the poem after her death, but having it imprinted on her urn. You can read the poem below.
I’ve spent the decade since my father’s death piecing together a timeline of his life. While I know my father discussed the details of his freighter trip from the UK to America during my childhood, I sadly have forgotten most of those details. It bothered me I couldn’t learn more about the ship that he was on, but my initial searches turned up dead ends.
Then I took another look at his naturalization records on Ancestry.com, and discovered the name of the ship, SS American Inventor, was printed right on the form! I don’t know how I missed that initially. At first I turned up little information with the ship’s name, but then discovered that the ship had changed names over the course of its service.
The ship was originally christened the USS Theenim and functioned as a cargo attack ship during WWII, according to NavSource. (Reports say the name was a misspelling of Theemin, a star in the constellation Eridanus.) It served in the Asiatic-Pacific Theater during wartime and earned one battle star. After being decommissioned, it began its merchant service duties where it became the SS American Inventor. The ship’s name changed a few more times before it was sold for scrapping in 1970.
It was neat to see the images of the ship on NavSource. The very last image is of the ship in New York City in the mid-1950s. My father arrived in New York in 1957, so it was really neat to see an image of the city’s skyline during that era, to have a better understanding of the first glimpses of America my father saw on the ship. What an exciting moment for my father, who was just 25 years old and about to step foot in the country he would adopt as his second home.