dementia – Barefoot Lily Lady

5 Years Ago

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.

Thank you, BeeHive!

Birthday Blessings

It’s January 17, 2024 and today would have been my sweet Momma’s 90th birthday. It’s nearly midnight and sleep has not yet come to my weary eyes, so I decided I would not let this day pass without taking a moment to acknowledge the great blessing God gave me in this lovely woman.

The last birthday I celebrated with her was her 86th. Mom didn’t participate much in the celebration. There was a delicious cake, a bouquet of flowers, a few gifts to unwrap, and cute birthday balloons. But Alzheimer’s had already taken away her ability to understand what the joyous fuss was about. She enjoyed eating the cake I made her, so that blessed my heart.

While I cannot bake her another cake today, I can stop and thank God for blessing this world with Charlotte Louise Peet Boyles–the woman I would call Momma.

“Charm is deceitful and beauty is passing, but a woman who fears the Lord, she shall be praised. Give her of the fruit of her hands, and let her own works praise her in the gates.”
Proverbs 31:30-31

Palliative Care Praises

My friend and I talked recently about palliative care and how it differed from hospice care. I recalled writing a little blog post about this subject, so decided to reblog it today. I hope that it helps my friend and anyone else who is approaching this stage in the care of their loved one. I praise God for leading me to Agrace and for the wonderful palliative and (later) hospice care my dear mom received.

Barefoot Lily Lady

As this mid-stage of Alzheimer’s drags on, Mom is sleeping quite a bit more, not only at night (which I appreciate), but during the day as well – sometimes skippinga meal in lieu of sleep. Unfortunately, her nighttime sleep doesn’t appear to be very restful, as she gets in and out of bed various times throughout the night – sometimes to use the restroom, other times to explore the contents of her purse or her dresser drawer, or watch the real or imaginary happenings going on inside our house or outside of her window.

We have also noticed she has been less content during her awake hours and is more easily agitated. She paces back and forth between her bed and her chair at the kitchen table, never quite settled in either place; never quite sure if she’s going to bed or getting up.

Long ago, when my mother was…

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Downsizing with Dementia

I’ve been in the process of a little ‘downsizing’ at my house. Fueled by the experience of having moved my mother out of a home she lived in for 52 years, I’ve been steadily going through closets, drawers, cupboards, the garage and basement…anywhere the seldom used ‘stuff’ I’ve accumulated through the years might be lurking.

It made me think about this little Facebook note I wrote –unbelievably, almost two years ago. We’re now a few chapters further into Momma’s story of her life with Alzheimer’s, with her now residing with us in our home so we can care for her full-time.

I am re-sharing this as a reminder to myself of how God has been present at every juncture of this journey. It is also my heartfelt desire to bring encouragement and hope to someone else on a similar journey in life.

Continue reading “Downsizing with Dementia”

After Midnight Search

Sometimes life is just clearer in retrospect.

I know now that I should have responded to the video monitor’s prompting much sooner. Perhaps I would have been able to get more sleep if I had gone to Mom’s mental rescue sooner. It was after midnight, and Momma was having yet another bad night struggling with sundowning. I watched and listened in on the monitor as she yanked the chain on her bedside lamp and sat up in bed talking to herself. Nothing new; the same questions she always asks – those questions that never go away, even with an answer. I heard the familiar “zip” of her purse as she went through the contents of her purse over and over again. Between each examination of the contents, she would carefully hide the purse beneath her bed sheets. Then, in delighted surprise moments later, “find” the purse and go through the unzip and search motions again.

In the wee hours of the morning she decided to get out of bed. I pushed my head deeper into my pillow and watched from my own bed via the video monitor as she “furniture-walked” without her walker, opening and closing each drawer in her room, rifling through the contents and rearranging everything to her liking. She seemed to be looking for something. Momma was safe enough, just restless and confused. She left the room twice to use the bathroom, but always came back to her bed promptly.

I felt guilty just lying there watching, but I felt utterly exhausted and was in a bit of pain. You know that feeling you have in your leg after a middle of the night leg cramp? Well, I haven’t had a muscle spasm, but I’ve been having that type of “after pain” in my right leg all day. Add in a brewing migraine headache and a mom who just won’t go to sleep, and you have an equation that equals not enough sleep.

At two thirty, I got up to take some more ibuprofen, then drifted off into a state of semi-sleep, still listening, still peeking to see what Momma was up to. By four in the morning the tone in her voice changed to one of frantic agitation, so I made my way down to her bedroom to see if I could help, or at least redirect, so we could both get some rest.

Not wanting to startle her, I flipped on the hallway light so she would see me coming, rather than just have me appear out of nowhere in her room.

Bleary-eyed, I said in my loudest sleepy voice, “Momma, you really need to get some sleep.”

“Well, I’m not going to bed until I figure out who the guy in this picture is.” Momma held out a photo she normally carries in her purse. It was a picture of her with my Dad. I told her, “Well, that is you and Dad.” I could see her beginning to process that information and quickly realized that she was processing the word “dad” and couldn’t make the transition in her brain from my dad to her husband. I added, “Momma, that is your husband, Jerry.”

“Oh, Jerry Robert! Well, now that I know that, I can go to bed,” declared my sweet Momma as she crawled into her bed and nestled her weary from wondering head into the pillows I had fluffed for her.

It was a little disheartening to know that she was struggling to remember her husband’s name, and that I had let her struggle with that search for so many hours, rather than helping her fill in that piece of information so she could feel more settled. How scary that must have been for her.

I sleepily climbed the stairs and went back to my own bed with a prayer in my heart for Momma and me. This time, sleep came easily. Four and one-half hours of sweet sleep.

Forgetting Time

Tissue alert.

This post is another in a series of my Facebook posts from 2015 related to caring for my mother. It’s really hard for me to re-post it without shedding my own tears. Those who are walking alongside a loved one struggling through the various stages of Alzheimer’s will probably relate very well. By the time you realize that the momentary lapse of memory is something more than the natural aging process forgetfulness, hints at “forgetting time” or how to tell time have already begun. Continue reading “Forgetting Time”