I was attending an event this weekend where we were talking about grief and gratitude. It’s an appropriate topic for November as we quickly approach Thanksgiving where we are reminded to be grateful for our blessings.
But when one is going through difficult times or actively grieving, tapping into gratitude can feel impossible. A person at the event I attended suggested that the bigger and deeper the grief, aiming to engage in smaller moments of gratitude can feel more achievable and still have a significant impact. The last thing one should do is force themselves to be grateful, because authenticity is essential. The last thing someone who is grieving should do is feel guilty because they cannot muster feelings of gratitude.
What can be helpful is taking time to be present in the moment. Recognizing the complexity of the more negative emotions and understanding that grief’s depth mirrors the bond you had with what is gone. Those relationships that were complicated may trigger even a deeper mix of emotions. Honoring those feelings over time can slowly make space for other feelings to emerge, such as gratitude.
It can also help to focus on something outside of your current situation. I find nature to be one of the simplest and most satisfying ways to ground oneself in a moment of gratitude. Being of awe of the stars in the night sky, a gorgeous sunrise, the colors of the leaves in autumn — these simple moments of gratitude have helped chip away at the oppressive grief I have felt at times during the holiday season.
Hope these tips help if you are navigating grief this holiday season.
I’ve been out of the country to attend and speak at News Reach Con, a conference for those in the news SEO industry. In Germany where I was, celebrating Halloween is growing some in popularity but not to the same level as in the US. As I’ve written many times on this blog, I’ve always enjoyed Halloween and have mostly fond memories of celebrating the holiday as a child. Halloween also makes me think of how my father took on a neighborhood bully who had been mean to me at a community gathering, which I write about in The Reluctant Caregiver.
While at the conference, one of the speakers, Louisa Frahm, was wearing a fabulous “Elvira Mistress of the Dark” dress. We chatted about growing up with Elvira and how as children, the racy innuendos flew right over our heads as we just enjoyed the costumes and silly movies. I credit Elvira with inspiring my love of cheesy B-horror movies, something that I continue to enjoy to this day.
Zoom in to see Louisa’s fabulous Elvira dress! Photo by Markus Mielek.
I hope your Halloween brings more treats than tricks.
Halloween animation generated by Google Flow AI with Veo.
Today the NFL played a game in Dublin, Ireland. It made me think about my childhood and watching football with my father. Of course, being from Northern Ireland, my father’s first passion was soccer, which he continued to enjoy watching throughout my childhood. He was fond of listening to the Spanish simulcast, even though Dad didn’t understand Spanish, because of the enthusiasm of the announcer. It may have been Andrés Cantor, because I remember the famous “gooooooal!” call and how my Dad loved to try and mimic it.
The first sport I learned from my father was baseball. We would watch Dodgers games and Dad would remind me that the team was once located in Brooklyn, where he once lived. The timing of the team’s move from East to West Coast was right around the time my father arrived in the US, so I doubt he got to see the team play in Brooklyn but he no doubt learned the team’s lore during his time in the Big Apple.
We did watch American football as well. I mostly remember watching college football with my dad when I was a teenager. Of course my Dad rooted for the Notre Dame Fighting Irish. Being a teenager, I would choose the opposing team. I remember watching the Colorado-Notre Dame Orange Bowl rivalry, and how it was one of those rare bonding moments with my dad during my adolescence, as were often like passing ships in the night with his work schedule and my school and work schedule.
I also remember watching NFL games with my father. One specific memory is Super Bowl XXV. I’m pretty sure my father was cheering on the Buffalo Bills because of their quarterback Jim Kelly. Dad tended to support anyone with an Irish name. I remember the “wide right” missed kick by Scott Norwood, which cost the Bills the championship and began a heartbreaking string of Super Bowl losses for the team.
I think Dad would have liked seeing a NFL game being played in Ireland. And I think he would have approved of a Steelers win, a team owned by the Rooney family with ties to Ireland.
Today Mom would have been 88 years old. My mother and I shared a birthday month which always made July special to me. Now it’s a little bittersweet, but I still carry the memories of how my mother tried to make my birthday special each year and how I did the same by making her handmade cards and crafts. What my gifts lacked in artistic talent they made up for in love.
Even though my mother and I were born in the same month and the same astrological sign, we were opposites in personality. I write about those challenges in The Reluctant Caregiver. But one thing we shared was a love of creativity and the arts. Over her lifetime my mother learned how to play the guitar and took dance lessons. She made fabric art wall hangings. I’m grateful to have inherited a love of creativity as well, as it can make the world a better place during challenging times.
Thinking of Dad today and what it would be like to take a long walk in the park with him and discuss all of the troubles happening in the world right now.
Hope you get to spend quality time on this Father’s Day with your fathers or those who serve as father figures in your life.
It’s hard to believe that today marks 10 years since my mother’s death. The moment my mother took her last breath is still crystal clear in my mind, even though I can recognize the considerable amount of time that has passed. Considering the turmoil that has engulfed the world over the last decade, I have to say Mom had impeccable timing when she exited this world.
As I was writing this blog post, Maria Shriver’s Sunday Paper hit my inbox. In it was an article, Want to Have No Regrets When You Die?, which was written by Diane Button, a death doula. She shared an encounter she had with one of her dying clients, who told her, “I am not yet ready to die. I’ve spent my whole life caring for others, and honestly, I don’t even know who I am.”
This really resonated with me as it’s one of the cornerstones of my caregiver advocacy, to support the needs of family caregivers and making sure they don’t lose their own voice. Writing is one effective way of maintaining your identity, and can help process the complex emotions that caregiving triggers. One of my goals with publishing The Reluctant Caregiver was to encourage other caregivers to release the guilt and shame they felt during their caregiving experience.
Button shared a simple yet powerful, “I am …” writing prompt that anyone can use to connect with themselves. The prompt could also be used in an audio format if that’s one’s preference. Button suggested that it’s an exercise that one can revisit, then review prior answers to see how your sense of self has transformed over time.
Here’s what I came up with to mark this somber anniversary:
I am resilient. I am learning. I am determined. I am evolving.
Feel free to share your “I am” creations in the comments section. I’m working on a project that includes writing prompts for caregivers. More to come soon.
One common behavior in those with Alzheimer’s disease is to ask to “go home.” It seems like the simplest of requests, but caregivers are often stumped because their loved one may make this request when they are already home. That’s because the meaning of “home” can change as the disease progresses.
My father asked to go home almost every time my mother visited him at the memory care center during the last year of his life. But my mother didn’t get the sense that my dad meant home as the condo they had purchased. Home seemed to be a more vague destination. In fact, my dad and his roommate reportedly hatched a plan to escape the memory care center and catch a bus to … somewhere undefined. The memory care center had secured access and the escape plan was quickly forgotten.
The last time I saw my father alive, he also expressed a desire to go home. This time, it was clear that home meant to Belfast, his birthplace, because he mentioned wanting to see his sisters. There is some evidence to suggest that those with dementia hold on to their earliest memories longer than more recent ones.
For caregivers, the “going home” request can be difficult to navigate. This recent article in Self has some good tips and strategies. Once physical discomforts are ruled out, caregivers can implement a variety of strategies to engage with their loved one and help them move on from the “going home” obsession loop. These strategies may need to be adjusted over time; be prepared for a period of trial and error.
Loved ones with dementia who express great distress about their current surroundings may attempt to wander. In these cases, making sure home are adapted to prevent escape attempts is essential. Specialized door locks and high-tech tracker tags can help in these situations.
Losing a sense of home must be frightening, as our homes are often our sanctuaries. Helping loved ones with Alzheimer’s navigate this disturbing yet common behavior takes compassion, patience, and creativity.
This past week, I cleaned out my parents’ condo to prepare it for sale. It was a bittersweet experience. My parents enjoyed several happy, peaceful years there in retirement, but as their health declined, my memories of the place become more painful and complicated. That’s a reason why Thanksgiving and Christmas are tough holidays for me.
Even though I had spent time cleaning out upon each visit since my parents died, I was overwhelmed by the amount of stuff that remained. My parents weren’t hoarders; it was just an accumulation of two lifetimes, along with some of my stuff. I’m trying to downsize my own material possessions, so I had to be very disciplined on what I would bring with me. I consolidated down to two small boxes and a duffel bag. The rest would be donated.
It seemed like a lot of stuff to me as I sorted through it, but the donated items fit in one room.
It’s interesting what one chooses to keep and what one lets go in these situations. For example, I kept Polly the parrot, which brought much needed joy to my parents after my father developed dementia. I donated the beautiful kimono that my mother had received from a Navy mate. I kept my grandmother’s ice cream dishes (only 1 survived in shipping, alas) but let go my mother’s Navy footlocker. I would have loved to have kept it, but shipping it would have been too costly. I kept my mother’s makeup bag, but let go of my mother’s purse.
Heavy things like yearbooks I chose to scan selected pages instead of keep. Many yearbooks are available online now, if I should ever wish to wander down nostalgia lane. I spent a lot of time doing just that on this trip, so I think I will be good for awhile.
It was an overwhelming and exhausting experience. A myriad of emotions arose from some of these objects I hadn’t seen since my childhood. Choosing what to keep and what to let go was a challenge. Here are some tips to keep in mind if you find yourself faced with this daunting task.
It may be easier to start with the true junk, the items that no longer have any useful life. Consider this a warm-up task.
To stay organized and focused, create a plan. Maybe go room by room, or divide by type of items such as clothing, kitchenware, photos, etc.
Take breaks if possible. I was on a time limit but even stepping outside to get a breath of fresh air can help one reset.
Keep one, let the other go: When I had to sort multiples of items, I tried only to keep one. This can make it easier to make progress while maintaining items that have true meaning to you.
Remember, whatever you take with you, there will come a day when those items will have to be dealt with again. If you have children, be aware of the burden it can place on them to have to inherit so many items that may have limited meaning to them. Focus on the memories and heirlooms that help tell your family’s story.
Don’t feel like you are throwing your family’s mementos away. Many donated items can have a second life in someone else’s home or be repurposed and upcycled.
Finally, and this may be the most important takeaway from my experience: Don’t hide treasures away for special occasions! There were many items in my parents’ condo that had been sitting in boxes that were never used, like dishes. Don’t leave these items to collect dust in a closet. Go ahead and use the good china, wear the fancy clothing item, or display the creative project you are proud to have made. Your family treasures are meant to be enjoyed in the present.
Social robots have been met with an understandable level of skepticism by elder care advocates. Can generative AI take such technology to the next level? A recent Wired article highlighted interesting developments in this field. Instead of focusing on robots substituting for human companionship or serving as a virtual caretaker, a group of researchers are developing robots “for the soul.”
One group that is being targeted for this technology designed to spark sensations and experiences are those with dementia, with technology meeting them where they are, whether that is surreal or relived memories. One example cited in the article is a robot playing birdsong that prompts an introverted woman with dementia to mimic a bird and speak about her love of birds. Another product that has been created is a pillow with panels that can be personalized to one’s life experience. When a panel is touched, a familiar sound is played. For example, if I was programming this for my father I would include a rendition of Danny Boy, my father’s favorite song. I might include the sounds of a ship, because my father loved ships.
Most of the article focuses on the development of QT, a chatty robot being tested at a memory care center. The technology has a ways to go, but one of the interesting developments is how the robot can spark conversations between residents and visitors. Encouraging such interactions can have a positive impact on all involved.
An utterly fascinating, eye-opening, and moving piece of journalism from @mcgowankat about researchers developing robots to help dementia patients. https://t.co/cxDeGMKQlQ
While I don’t envision a flood of robots caring for the elder population anytime soon, assistive technology is rapidly developing. Fall detection products are commonplace now, and proved to be an essential tool when caring for my mother. Smart, connected devices like the Amazon Echo Show and the Alexa Emergency Assist service keep busy caregivers connected to their elder loved ones, allowing them to monitor virtually. These products provide long-distance caregivers like I was with some peace of mind.
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The years following his death have been tough, both on a personal and global level. I am grateful for having found such an amazing community of dementia caregivers and advocates who are tirelessly working to gain better resources and support. No one welcomes a diagnosis of Alzheimer’s or other forms of dementia, but my family’s experience has opened my eyes to challenges in our health care system that I otherwise would not have known about.
I began The Memories Project blog in honor of my father and will continue to advocate for better dementia care treatment and family caregiver support.
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The Memories Project 