May this little missive of mine encourage someone navigating a similar road in life.
Engaging in conversations with the family members is one of my favorite things to do as I work on preparing desserts in the kitchen of BeeHive Assisted Living and Memory Care. Since both my mom and my brother have lived there, my heart knows what they are experiencing as they partner with Beehive to care for someone that they love. It has now been five years since my sweet momma left behind the shackles of her earthly body and mind and quietly moved into her heavenly home.
I’m sharing the post that follows in honor of my mom–a little reminisce of things mom and I experienced in the early days of her stay at BeeHive. When I wrote the post that follows back in 2019, mom was living in BeeHive’s first building. In the months that followed, she would sit at her bedroom window watching as the second neighboring building was constructed. God has blessed and a third building is now nearing completion. My prayer for BeeHive is that many more families will experience the care that my loved ones and I received. May this little missive of mine encourage someone navigating a similar road in life.
We’re back from our Hawaiian adventure with Mia. What a grand adventure.
Now I am settling back into the comfort of life’s routine. Sleeping in my own bed with my favorite pillow. Spending Sunday with our church family. Doing laundry in my own washing machine and not having to put $7.00 worth of quarters into the machine for each load!
Today I slept in until my body woke me up….and was almost late for work. It brought me joy being in BeeHive’s kitchen baking up treats for our residents again (many thanks to Karen who filled in for me while I was away).
In the midst of my baking joy, my heart remembered that my journey with BeeHive began 5 years ago today. March 25, 2019 was the day I accepted the help of BeeHive in caring for my mother in her journey Home with Alzheimer’s.
Facebook confirmed that memory with two reminisce posts. Many of my friends and family were praying as I moved Momma out of my home and into her new bedroom at BeeHive. We arrived just in time for lunch. While mom and I ate lunch, Wayne and Beth moved mom’s things into her new room, setting it up much like her bedroom in my home. After lunch, I walked mom into her new space and she settled right in and was soon napping.
I sat in her room watching her sleep for a bit, then met with Gina to go over some move-in details. When we were finished, I was not quite sure what to do with myself. I wrote about that here…
Momma would live here for the last 14 months of her sojourn on earth. Here she would be loved and cared for with the level of care I could not provide. She had friends around her, good food, fun activities, someone to help her every hour of the day or night, and someone to help her to shower (something I couldn’t offer her at my house).
Placing her in assisted living memory care was a hard decision. And the right decision.
If you ever had the pleasure of knowing my mom, you would probably describe her as one of the kindest and most caring people you have ever met. Her sweetness was a predominant character quality, even as Alzheimer’s claimed more of her memories and abilities. I’ve written about her loving care for doll babies, and about how the nurse came out in her so often in her last year of life in assisted living memory care. Here are a few photos of her sweet self.
Sometimes, however, momma wasn’t so sweet. She’d take a swing at my head when I was kneeling in front of her trying to help her tie her shoes. She once threw a frozen dinner at my brother when he was sick in bed and started screaming at him. We theorize that she was just so very frustrated that she couldn’t remember how to work a microwave anymore–she wanted to help him, but didn’t know how. In assisted living memory care, a mean streak would occasionally surface when someone was assisting her with a shower. Mom wasn’t one to use profanity, but would very occasionally let angry words fly when someone was just trying to help her.
It wasn’t mom. It was what Alzheimer’s was doing as it ravaged her brain.
It can be very stressful for the caregiver when someone they love suddenly becomes combative and aggressive. Sometimes there are physical reasons why a loved one is lashing out – like pain, or a urinary tract infection, or frustrations over not being able to physically do something (like tie her own shoes, or stand without assistance).
Timing
For my momma, it was sometimes the timing of what she was being requested to do. We learned very early on that it was futile to awaken her for a meal or a shower—that was just begging for angry outbursts and uncontrollable tears. Sometimes she’d refuse food at mealtimes. We learned it was best to just let her be—she would often forget she was mad and be sweet as pie when you reintroduced the same plate of food a few minutes later.
Speaking of pie, we also learned that if we would “lead with sweet” by serving mom’s dessert at the beginning of her meal, she’d eat her dessert and then just keep going. It also helped to let mom bring Dolly with her to meals. Dolly didn’t eat much, but sometimes needed her face washed after meals.
Fear
Sadly, my mom oftentimes became very agitated and fearful at the prospect of taking a shower. This is VERY common. I first noticed it in the moderate stage of dementia. If a shower was suggested, she’d have every reason in the world not to do it now. She generally used stall tactics, like, “Later.” Or, “I already showered before you got here.” As the disease progressed, there would be no question about it—mom would NEED a shower. One of the wisest things I ever did as a caregiver was to hire help for bathing. I was extremely thankful for the aides who came to assist with this need. Their training prepared them for the ups and downs of performing the necessary hygiene tasks, and each aide had tricks up her sleeve as to how to help alleviate mom’s fear and anxiety.
There were times when even the aides were unsuccessful. Sometimes the best we could do was give mom a bed-bath or a quick wipe-down. I found it really convenient and helpful to use these disposable washcloths–they could be warmed in the microwave, which mom found very soothing.
My heart goes out to you caregivers who are dealing with combative and aggressive behavior with your loved one. Every situation is different, but I hope my experience with mom will help someone else get through this. If you’d like more information, you might want to check out this informative and helpful article, “Dealing with Aggressive Behavior”.
Count me in if I’m ever in a fun assisted living place like this . . .
This could be me in 10 years…But I’m pretty sure this will be more like it!
I’m down for it! But I’m not sure how you’ll get me back up once I’m down for it!
Here’s a super cute video if you’d like to see these senior funsters in action at StoryPoint Saline Retirement and Assisted Living Facility: https://fb.watch/aPbNjKuOTB/
I am truly blessed by God’s gift of being able to bake for my friends. While they will likely never recover from their illnesses and memory loss (on this side of Glory), I hope that my desserts and treats will help them recover a special lost memory of a yesterday and bring a little splash of momentary joy to their day.
I am blessed to spend three mornings every week baking for my friends. Each of these dear ones lives at BeeHive Assisted Living and Memory Care home due to some type of memory loss.
I am blessed to see my friends smile and wave at me as I measure my ingredients into my big mixing bowl. I love hearing the buzz as they talk amongst themselves about what I’m doing — guessing what will come out of the oven.
I am blessed to hear the ladies reminisce about how they used to bake for their families, or how their mom used to make what I am baking for them.
I am blessed when the aroma of something sweet baking in the oven wafts through the building and a dear one stops by the kitchen to ask, “What are we baking today?”
I am blessed when one gentleman scoots his wheelchair through the door and sits in the kitchen chatting in a language I cannot speak. My friend doesn’t eat sugary treats, but he likes to keep me company and watch me bake for awhile, then nods off in a little middle-of-the doorway nap. I hope his dreams are sweet.
I am blessed when one special lady-friend giggles and says (several times a day), “Since you started baking here, it’s getting hard for me to button my pants!” Just the smell of something baking in the oven has a way of making my friends smile and helps them anticipate their next meal.
I am blessed when I serve another friend her dessert before her meal – allowing her to start her meal with dessert means she will likely keep eating the rest of her meal. Her dainty little smile on her face as she savors her dessert blesses me.
I am blessed when I am able to take a little break from my baking to help one of my friends find her room (or her purse, or her keys). This friend is special to me because she shares my mom’s first name and reminds me of her in so many ways. I love it when this tiny little lady takes my hand in hers and draws it to her lips for a little kiss and says, “I will never forget your kindness.”
This post is part of the Five Minute Friday blog link-up where I join up with Kate Motaung and a community of writers and bloggers of all ages and stages who gather on Fridays around a single word prompt to free-write for five minutes. Kate’s word prompt for this week is {recover}.
Helping a loved one with dementia feel content is sometimes a difficult task. I’m by no means an expert on the subject, but thought I’d share a few photos depicting several ideas that we tried.
Momma in her gardening hat
Caring for small pets
Puzzles
Dolly Daycare
Photo books
Puzzles
Dementia-friendly coloring book
Sorting fabric squares for quilting
Drying dishes helped her feel useful
More puzzles with large pieces
Sorting buttons was a favorite activity
Momma could spend an hour sweeping
There came a time when caring for my sweet momma in our home was no longer best – for her or for me. God knew what we both needed and provided a wonderful place for her to live a 10-minute drive from our home. Momma lived the last year of her life here on earth as a resident at BeeHive Homes of Oregon – an amazing assisted living memory care community. The amazing staff did so much to help her be as content and happy as possible. Let me share just a few photos of those wonderful activities and opportunities she was privileged to take part in.
Group Activities to Encourage Movement
Momma loved her snacks! BeeHive always had something she loved.
Though her deafness was sometimes a barrier to fully enjoying the music, Momma and the other residents had many rich opportunities to hear and participate in a variety of musical forms.
This lovely harpist was a regular and well-loved visitor to BeeHive. I do believe I saw “rapture” on the faces of some of the residents as they listened to her play – some of them singing along.
BeeHive is blessed with visits from many musical groups and choirsMomma obviously enjoyed the accordian – it was certainly easy for her to hear. Just look at the joy on her face!
Several dance troupes brought their lively performances to BeeHive. What a sweet treat!
I’m thankful for the churches who faithfully held services for the residents. This photo is of mom and her friend Roy listening to one of the pastors.
So many creative people and groups shared their time with the residents helping them make a variety of lovely crafts.
Momma gets a little crafting help and encouragement from a sweet volunteer.The intergenerational activities were SO meaningful. The local school sent students over every week to read to the residents. I just love seeing this photo of momma and her armful of babies listening to this young boy read aloud.
Please, let me take just a moment to speak to those of you who are facing the decision of whether or not you should place your loved one in a care facility. Looking back on my caregiving experience, I am so very glad that I spent time with my momma helping her in any way that I could during the last few years of her life. When the time came for her to move out of my home, it was a very difficult decision. My body was telling me it was time. My emotions were telling me it was time. My husband was telling me it was time. Yet, I felt a little like I was giving up. However, I now realize that if I had insisted upon keeping my momma home with me until the very end, she would have missed out on so many wonderful opportunities and friendships.
Momma and Carol didn’t know one another’s names, but they were nonetheless sweet friends. I’m so glad they were able to be there for each other.
May God bless you who are caring for a loved one or friend with memory challenges. May you be blessed with creativity for your very long caregiving days, strength and patience for the long and sleepless nights, and wisdom and grace for each decision you make on your journey of love and care.
Momma rested comfortably after Vivian and Jess left, so I decided to go home for a bit that evening to have dinner with Wayne and repack my bag. I knew in my heart that I would be staying with mom until the Lord called her home, so stuffed my backpack with a week’s worth of clean clothing, my Bible, a book, and a few movies to watch. I was just getting in the car to make the 12-minute drive back to BeeHive when I got a call from Kate, one of her sweet caregivers, who was calling to let me know that, weak as mom was, she had somehow managed to get herself out of bed and had fallen once again.
When I arrived a few minutes later, mom was back in bed and resting comfortably. The bump on her forehead from a previous fall had been in the healing stages, but now looked fresh again. Momma was chatty, but more difficult to understand. I did manage to cipher at one point that she was talking about her baby. Dolly was seated across the room in a chair, rather than in her customary spot in bed with her. It was then that I surmised Mom had been attempting to get out of bed earlier so that she could bring her baby to bed with her, but had fallen as a result. I placed Dolly in Momma’s arms and she patted her and spoke soothing words to her for quite some time.
I shared my theory concerning why mom had tried so hard to get out of bed with the staff. We all agreed that Dolly was very real in momma’s mind and that we should make sure Dolly was always in bed where Momma could see her.
I always loved watching my sweet mom tenderly caring for her beloved Dolly (and other dolls and stuffed animals), so I took a little video of Momma interacting with her Dolly that evening. When I would watch her care for Dolly, it seemed as though I had a glimpse of what my mother was like when I was a baby.
I will always treasure this sweet and special memory of Momma and Dolly.
Barefoot Lily Lady 