Today Is the Present

We move through each day without realizing how important each day can be. This could be the last day we get to spend with a person, or the last time we talk on the phone with someone we love. It could also be the day we meet someone who will change our life.

My mom used to say that each day she woke up was a good day. I think often our first waking thought sets the mood for the day. If we wake up energized, or whether it takes three cups of coffee to pry open the old baby blues, what the day brings is often our mental attitude.

I walk by and take a quick look at my wall calendar to see if I have an appointment, a meeting, or if I have a free day. I try not to dread anything too much. If I have a doctor’s appointment, I show up on time (well, fifteen minutes ahead of the appointment) and go in when they call my name.

The next doctor appointment I have coming up is my annual Medicare physical. They always ask if I’ve fallen since the year before, and the answer is usually “no.” Well, that is not going to be the answer this time because I’ve already taken four tumbles. At least (knock on wood) I haven’t broken any bones, and I’ve always been able to get up on my own.

On a daily basis, I usually check my handy-dandy list to see what I’m supposed to be doing that day, but often I do what I feel like doing rather than what is scheduled. The list is to keep my tasks and goals in mind, not to work like I have an hourly job. After all, there has to be some benefits to being retired.

Today is the present and will only be a memory tomorrow. So, if I decide to ditch all responsibility and have lunch with friends, or go on a day trip, I just do it. I have no regrets for the days I took Mom to the “boat” because that was time I got to spend with her. Whatever I let go for a day’s outing was finished in a timely matter or on a schedule appropriate for a retired person.

The saying that yesterday is history and tomorrow a mystery is true enough. Our history is what makes us the complex beings that we are and form many of our opinions, attitudes, or biases. Strong-willed people can overcome many of their negative influences, while others wallow in self-pity for the hard life they had. One size does not fit all.

At times in our lives, we may find the mystery of tomorrow to be scary and uncharted territory. When a loved one faces a serious health crisis, we can become overburdened with anticipatory grief. For most of us, the older we get, the more grief we encounter. The best we can hope for is that grief becomes manageable, we learn to appreciate the loved ones who remain part of our lives.

Cherished love ones become treasured memories. Their influences shaped us into the person we were meant to be. We became a person who was strong enough to go on, love that we were loved, face each day with courage and hope, take pride in our accomplishments, and be tolerant of our failures. Forgiving others is admirable, but to forgive yourself for your could have, should haves, goes a long way toward realizing that today is the best present of all.

 

Copyright @ September 2026

https://earlyonset.blogspot.com

Jim’s Team – The 29th Walk to End Alzheimer’s

The 2026 Sedalia Walk to End Alzheimer’s was Saturday, September 19, and it marked the 29^th Walk for Jim’s Team. The first walk (known as Memory Walk) in 1998 was really small and I can name everyone who walked that year: Helen and Chuck Hannaford from Slater, Joetta Coen and Penny Braun (and her dog Victoria) from the Mid-Missouri Chapter. Jim and I (Jim’s Team) were the only two walkers from Sedalia. We started at Liberty Park and walked downtown. Helen blew her hunting horn so that we didn’t go unnoticed.

The Walk has been much larger since then. In 2020, Walk Everywhere (due to the pandemic) was a smaller walk, but Jim’s Team wasn’t the only team walking that year. We did walk in the evening and followed the original walk route through downtown Sedalia. We paused for photos on the steps of the Sedalia Public Library, and an article in the paper showed a photo of our Team as we started our walk at Liberty Park. We were the best fundraising team that year and raised more than $1500.

Since the 1998 Walk to End Alzheimer’s, Jim’s Team is the only team that has walked in every Sedalia Walk. We’ve been in several locations over the years: Liberty Park, Missouri State Fairgrounds, Centennial Park, and our latest venue State Fair Community College.

Each walk has been the same and yet different. I chaired the committee for the first five years and others have chaired it since except for the past few years when we didn’t have a designated chair and a small committee. This year, we didn’t even have a committee or a walk manager. Anthony Burt, the development director of the Greater Missouri Alzheimer’s Association stepped in to make the Sedalia Walk a success. He and I visited our corporate sponsors in one day. From that point on, we were on a roll.

Walk day was a little warmer than usual, but everything was set up and in place thanks to the Sigma Kappa-Delta Eta crew. They buzzed around on Don Weaver’s golf carts setting up everything. They set up a table and moved the boxes from my car to the table. They manned the registration tables, the MC position, and helped as needed throughout the event. They also brought in more than $4,000! Up to the walk, Jim’s Team and Sigma-Kappa were the two best fundraising teams trading places from time-to-time. Without them, our walk would not have been nearly as successful.

We were in the shade this year and a breeze kept the day from being too hot. It was a beautiful day to show the support and hope that we carry to walk each year.

In the 29 years I’ve been involved with the Alzheimer’s Association, I’ve seen many changes. At one time, everyone thought dementia only happened in the elderly. Now, people realize that Alzheimer’s and other dementia can happen at any age. Jim was 49 years old and lived with an Alzheimer’s type of dementia for ten years, passing away at 59.

I really want my great-grandchildren to grow up in a world without Alzheimer’s. We hold the hope and promise that the new treatment that slows the progression of the disease will be the forerunner to a treatment that will end Alzheimer’s.

Until then, we advocate for a cure, and we Walk to End Alzheimer’s.

 

Copyright @ September 2026

https://earlyonset.blogspot.com

Taking Life Easy

 

The older I get, the more homesick I get for places and people who no longer exist. Today I was thinking about the trips Jim and I used to take to Colorado. It could be the heat that made me homesick for campfire coffee on a chilly Colorado morning. We used to camp at Moraine Park and Jim was always up at the crack of dawn to make coffee.

The other thing I loved about our vacations was taking time to just relax. We would almost always go on an adventure, a hike, shopping in Estes Park, driving up Old Fall River Road, site seeing, or animal watching. The point was, we were flexible and if we wanted to spend our time napping or reading a book, that was as important as any other activity.

We had a few adventures on our leisurely hiking trips. We especially liked the more unpopular hikes where we weren’t bothered by other tourists. One time we rode the bus up to Bear Lake and took a hike on such a trail. We had only hiked the trail a few times ourselves.

After we were about a mile into our hike, a deer came careening across the trail in front of us. Before we got over the shock of seeing a deer who looked like he was running for his life, a mountain lion crossed the trail in hot pursuit of the deer. Fortunately for us, he never seemed to notice the two humans a few feet away.

Another time on the same trail, we were taking a break before going down the switchback. A tall woman who had jogged up the switchback came into view. She looked like an amazon in her colorful leggings and sculpted top. As soon as she got out of hearing range, Jim looked at me and said, “I think that’s Wonder Woman.” I had to agree.

Jim loved to feed the chipmunks, although I scolded him for it. One of the chipmunks seemed to be a master at snacking and Jim named him Chubby. We were returning to camp one night and saw a dead chipmunk. Jim said, “I hope that’s not Chubby!” It didn’t take long to figure out that Chubby was alive and well, and waiting for a handout.

My heart is full of memories of our trips to Colorado when we were young and foolishly thought we had so much life ahead of us. Maybe it’s just as well that we don’t know how much time we have or we’d never take time to slow down and rest.

I’ve managed to fill my life with so much activity that I forget to rest. I’ve been slowing down more lately since I’ve developed an intermittent nagging cough and feel tired all the time.

I practiced my guitar today, and it’s a sad state of affairs when my playing is better than my singing. The lemon ginger tea didn’t do much for my voice.

Taking it easy has given me time to reflect, and to remember, when my life was busy, but filled with adventure. A time when campfires, conversation, and travel made worries and obligations melt into the sunset. In my memories, Jim plays his guitar on a mountain above the Bighorn Sheep Meadow for the chipmunks and a few random tourists.

  

Copyright © September 2026 by L. S. Fisher

https://earlyonset.blogspot.com

A Cup of Ambition

In a world of more than 8 billion people, it takes an outstanding person to be known as the most loved person. People took the death of Dolly Parton personally, because she touched the lives of everyday people. Dolly had keen vision and imagination. Her Imagination Library sent books to over 675,000 kids under the age of five each month.

Dolly was an entertainer, songwriter, philanthropist, and a woman who was  uniquely herself. She never once thought she was better than anyone else. She came from poverty with dreams, grit, and a gigantic cup of ambition. Although she and her acrylic nails wrote the song “9 to 5,” she never punched a time clock, and she didn’t stop just because the buzzer signaled the end of a working day.

 When we went to see the Porter Wagoner show in the 70s, we saw Dolly in full action. Porter wasn’t there that night, so Dolly entertained in a way that was surprisingly good. After the show, she stayed and greeted every person who came by the stage. She autographed a picture for Jim.

She left the Porter Wagoner show in 1974, and I think she realized that a crowd that came to see Porter were just as thrilled to see her. Yet through her loyalty to Porter, she wrote, “I Will Always Love You.” She never spoke badly about Porter although he sued her for $3 million. She joined him on stage at the 50^th anniversary of the Grand Old Opry to sing “I Will Always Love You.” I learned recently that when Porter was dying, Dolly visited him in the hospital.

Hearing the song “9 to 5”, has recently hit home for me, because my cup(s) of ambition haven’t worked for me lately. I don’t know if it’s the heat, or just the stress of everyday life that is making my arms and legs feel like they weigh a ton. Sometimes my brain is jumping from racing through my not-done to-do list, until I start stripping gears and coming to a screeching halt.

A couple of nights ago, I slept almost eight hours, if you don’t count the hour my back hurt so bad that I had to dig out the heating pad.

My cups of ambition are much quicker since I bought a Keurig, but I wasn’t ambitious enough to go to town, although I had been out of milk and bread for three days, and it was the last day I could pick up my meds.  I plodded through my morning chores trying to psych myself into going to the store. By noon, I settled into the recliner and promptly took a two-hour nap. After my nap, I decided I felt good enough to go to the store. But even then, I was pushing myself.

My nights are full of busy dreams and I’m often visited by the folks that have gone to the Eternal Promised Land. They live in my dreams, but I wake up missing them all over again.

I’ve read that one of the side effects of grief is a lack of ambition due to deep fatigue. Waves of sadness turn into tidal waves of full-fledged grief. Losses of loved ones are compounded by additional losses. The older we get, the more people we grieve.

People come and go in our lives, but as long as they live in our dreams and memories they are still with us. We can’t remember all the events that happened, but we can remember the feelings we felt.

 Copyright © August 2026 by L. S. Fisher

https://earlyonset.blogspot.com 

To Sweat or Not to Sweat the Small Stuff

I recently found a book that said “Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff.” I admit that some of the ideas in the book made perfect sense to me. One of the chapters mentioned that your in-box was never going to be completely empty so you should take time to spend with family and friends and not worry about your in-box. Since I’m retired, you would think that I would no longer have an in-box, but actually, I do. Surprise, surprise…it’s never empty.

Friday is technically my day to catch up on any tasks that I haven’t completed during the week, but this week, I decided to take the don’t sweat attitude and went to lunch with the “Lunch Bunch” group of former classmates that we plan monthly. After lunch, I met with my sisters for good conversation and to admire their bargain purchases. When I got home, I was so tired that I chose a movie and promptly took a nap.

Another suggestion was that when you wake up in the night and think of something you need to do the next day was to write it down and go back to sleep. So far, so good, as far as suggestions go. In reality, I will make a mental note and spend the next day trying to figure out what I thought of in the middle of the night.

I am better at writing notes during the day. If I don’t lose the notes, they come in handy. I often make a list when I go to town so that I don’t get home and think, “snap” I didn’t go by the Post Office, or pick up my prescription, or whatever was on my mental list rather than my written one.  

I still have a lot more to read in the book, but although I already see some great suggestions in Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff, I can think of other times that you have to sweat the small stuff.

One of the reasons to sweat the small stuff is so that you don’t get side-lined by the big stuff. I was scheduled to have surgery when I was much younger, and I thought I needed a new robe and house shoes to take to the hospital. The robe I found was pink, but I couldn’t find any shoes to match. Jim was upset with me because I “was worried more about whether my robe and shoes matched” than I was about the surgery. Actually, the outfit wasn’t that important, but I was sweating the small stuff to distract myself from worrying about the surgery. He, on the other hand, was focused on the surgery.

In many cases, you have to sweat the small stuff in order to finish a project. When I work on QuickBooks, I can either look at all the accounts and panic, or I can methodically work on one at a time and feel that I’m making progress. 

As a caregiver, I learned to sweat the small stuff so that I could make sure that Jim had the best care possible. No task was too small or insignificant to overlook it. I was willing to do it all so that the overworked staff did not have to do it.

I could look at him and determine if he needed to be shaved, bathed, fed, cleaned up, or maybe he needed a hug and some cheerful conversation. Or I might break him out of the unit and take him for a milkshake and a walk in the park. Jim got personal attention because I sweated the small stuff.

One of the aides told me one time that it would be great if I worked there. “Are you kidding? It takes me more than two hours to take care of Jim.” Of course, that was on a good night.

Of all the things I may regret, taking care of Jim wasn’t one of them. I’m not saying it was always easy, or pleasant. If I had a rough day at work, I took a deep breath and cleared my mind as I entered the special care unit. I knew that I was stepping into Jim’s world and mentally leaving my world behind. It was time to sweat the small stuff, enjoy the moment, and push tomorrow and the big stuff out of my mind.

 

Copyright © August 2026 by L. S. Fisher

https://earlyonset.blogspot.com 

Lifestyle Matters

Some of us have had our brains examined, or as medical professionals would say “scanned.” Once you know the shape your brain is in, you are faced with choices: (1) Eat chocolate bonbons and watch TV or (2) Prioritize brain health. When you hit the age where you are too old to die young, it is important to think about brain health. 

With age, maintaining body and mind should be a top priority. Sometimes all we can do with our bodies is be diligent to think about what still works to compensate for the creaky old age joints or other physical health issues. I consider it as keep on keeping on. 

The Alzheimer’s Association in their “Brain Health in America” section of the Alzheimer’s Disease Facts and Figures encapsule the results of the U.S. Pointer Study on Lifestyle. This clinical trial was the first large-scale study of how lifestyle can protect cognitive health. 

Several years ago, I served on my local Alzheimer’s Association board of directors alongside a researcher who took us to her lab where they were researching brain trauma for the NFL. At the same time, they were researching how a healthy lifestyle could delay the onset of dementia. At that time, she said that lifestyle changes were more promising than medication.

At that time medication could only treat symptoms, but after years of research, two new drugs that are administered at infusion clinics are in stage 3 and 4. In the early stages of Alzheimer’s, these drugs have cleared beta-amyloid from the brains of most participants. Genetic testing is advised before treatment because side effects are more prevalent among those who have two copies of APOE e4 gene, a gene that increases the risk of Alzheimer’s. 

Jim was in a drug trial and his genetic testing showed that he had one copy of APOE e4, and one copy of APOE e3. His risk was slightly elevated, and as it turned out he did not have Alzheimer’s disease, but a different and rare type of dementia. 

We can’t do anything to change our genetic makeup, but with a healthy lifestyle we increase our odds of keeping our brains healthy. 

The four-fold U.S. Pointer “Brain Health Recipe”:

 1. Physical Exercise. We should aspire to 30 minutes of moderate-to-intense aerobic activity four times a week. I don’t think walking my geriatric dog qualifies for this. She moves slower than I do, but my Smart Watch tells me how many steps I take. I keep trying to increase it. Strength and flexibility exercises twice a week help keep muscles from being flabby. I have five-pound weights, in plain sight, but I don’t use them as often as I should. I used my grass trimmer yesterday, and my arms and hands shook for twenty minutes after I came inside. I guess that’s a clue that I need to try harder. 

 2. Health Monitoring. Here’s another place my Smart Watch helps. I can check my blood pressure, oxygen, and heart rate 24/7. With my lung issues, it’s always a good thing to see my oxygen at the optimum level. I weigh myself regularly and that keeps me from piling on the pounds and not noticing until my clothes don’t fit.

3. Nutrition. I could improve my eating habits, but I buy whole grain bread, eat salads (except during lettuce recalls), I use olive oil, and I love grapes, cherries, and other fresh fruits and vegetables. I suppose the biscuits and gravy I made this morning was a definite no-no, but it was the first time I had made that breakfast in almost two years. 

4. Cognitive Exercise. I feel like I’ve aced this one. I am task oriented when it comes to Quick Books, updating our club’s WordPress site, blogging, volunteer work, and practicing my guitar. I work Sudoku puzzles and spend time daily reading fiction and non-fiction. My mind is so busy that I am distracted at times. Yesterday, I carefully measured the cat food and then proceeded to dump it in the dog’s bowl. Yeah, I do that kind of stuff on a daily basis too. 

 By laying it out on this blog post, I can easily see areas for improvement, but optimistically, I think I’m in pretty good shape for the shape I’m in. As my mom used to say, “Every day you wake up in the morning is a good day.” I’ve never had APOE genetic testing, but I just hope I inherited the genetic makeup that my mom had. Even more, I hope that I inherited her love of life, her empathy for others, her wisdom, and a mustard seed’s worth of her faith. 

 Copyright © July 2026 by L. S. Fisher 

 https://earlyonset.blogspot.com

The Game of Life

Under the best of circumstances, I’ve entered the final quarter of the game of life. We all know that the most important quarter in any game is always the last quarter. The final quarter determines whether you lose or win. Everything can change until the final buzzer sounds.

Some players will give up when they fall behind in the score, but other players will give the final push and surge ahead. The team that’s ahead often makes the mistake of resting on their laurels, and at the final buzzer realize they have been bested by the come-back kids.

In the game of life, unfortunately, we don’t know when the final buzzer is going to sound. It could happen at any time, during any quarter of the game.

From my umpteen years of experience, I discovered some undeniable truths. In typical fashion, I’ll offer my unsolicited advice. You know how we all hate unsolicited advice, so if you want to stop reading now, you have my best wishes. 

 1.   Love with your whole heart. Yeah, I know the heart is just a muscle, so this is a figurative expression, but I’m sure you understand what I mean. Love has rules that must be followed. In romantic love make sure the love is mutual. No one appreciates a stalker, and besides when someone is murdered, “it’s always the spouse” is too often the truth. Exception: When your loved one has dementia, you can easily shift into unconditional love.

2.  Wealth is not purchased. The richest people you may know don’t live in the biggest house, drive fancy cars, and spend more in a week than others earn in a year. Riches is what you feel inside, how you know you’ve played your best and didn’t cheat others to do it. When we used to collect money for the Walk to End Alzheimer’s at our “traffic stop” it was easy to notice that the people who gave the most generously were not the ones driving the newest, shiniest cars.

3.  Keep your mind active. I used to say that once I retired, I wouldn’t have to remember so much. Ha! Now, I try to keep my mind on track by allocating different days to different projects. Sometimes, I feel like a juggler with so many balls in the air that I know I’m going to get bonked on the head eventually. Still, I don’t think I’d rather spend my days in a rocking chair watching the cars go by on the highway. I’ve always loved a challenge, but sometimes I put too much pressure on myself, so I take a nap. My mind is always active even when I sleep, and my vivid dreams occasionally offer solutions to problems I didn’t know I had.

4.  Offer grace instead of hate. I’m not easily offended, and most people aren’t if they don’t look for things to make them mad. Some people take everything personally whether it’s meant that way or not. I will offer grace to those who may misspeak and mean no harm. Don’t get me wrong, if someone deliberately insults me (or someone I love}, I’ll let them have it with both barrels (figuratively!). Caregivers know that sometimes they have to be an advocate for their loved ones, and hope that if you lose it, someone will offer you grace.

5. You are not better than or less than. If you think you are better than others, you just need to get over yourself. If you think you are less than, you need to rally your self-esteem with a serious pep talk. When in doubt, remember we all came into this world naked and testing our lungs by screaming, and we all leave this world when our life’s game is finished. You won’t be around to see the final score, but others will be. Make sure that you did yourself justice and played the game well.     

6. Keep a sense of humor. A sense of humor is easy during good times, but humor makes the hard times easier. If you can laugh at yourself, others will laugh with you. When Jim was in the nursing home, some nights were really tough, but other nights, I felt like I’d been dropped into the middle of a sitcom. Most people with dementia often believe they are younger than their years. Since Jim was younger than everyone else, he often caught the eye of the older ladies. One night a woman came into Jim’s room and pointed at him. “He’s my husband, you know.” I told her, “He’s is sure a good-looking guy.” A lady shuffling down the hallway with a walker observed, “He sure is good-looking to be married to a fuzzy haired woman like you!”  

7. Don’t offer or listen to unsolicited advice. Ooops!

 

Copyright © July 2026 by L. S. Fisher

https://earlyonset.blogspot.com

Country Sunshine

 

One of the songs I used to sing at the nursing homes was “Country Sunshine.” This song is in many ways the story of my life. As one of my friends used to say, “You can take the girl out of the country, but you can’t take the country out of the girl.”

I grew up in the Ozark hills where the trees blocked some of the country sunshine. The truest part of the song was how I was happy with the simple things, and I still am.

My brothers spent time on the lake and got to know the locals and summer crowd. I stayed close to home mostly reading, and wandering through the woods.  I could go weeks without seeing anyone unless I went to town with Mom and Dad. In town, we spent time with Grandma and Grandpa and a herd of cousins. On Saturday nights, we often listened to Mom and our uncles playing music or, sometimes, we went to the “picture show.”

I lived in the same house growing up, but Jim’s early life was spent moving from one end of the country to the other. Most of the time, his family lived in rural areas, but sometimes they lived in town. Still, Jim was a country boy, through and through.

After we married, we lived in town in Manhattan KS, Redmond OR, Versailles MO, and Sedalia MO. I was not happy at any of those locations. When we moved to the country after living in Sedalia, I didn’t complain (too much) about how run-down our rentals were.

One winter when we lived in a two-story house heated by propane, the weather was so cold that the propane wouldn’t move through the pipes into the house. Of course, every visitor we had was convinced that the house was haunted, and I refused to think about it. Strange things happened especially when we started moving out.

Jim and I bought some acreage from Jim’s parents, and lived in a mobile home while we built our house. We had never had air-conditioning, but by June, the mobile home was unbearably hot, and we bought a window unit.

When we moved into our house, for the first time, the outside temperature didn’t affect the inside temperature. The house was our comfort zone, and we enjoyed the peace and quiet of country life.

Then, in the mid 1990s, things began to change. Jim’s small memory glitches became more frequent and pronounced. He became eccentric in the way he dressed and acted.

People often think of Alzheimer’s and other dementias as a memory problem, but that is just one of the symptoms. Jim lost the logical thinking skills that meant he could fix anything. One time he got our van running with a piece of wire cut from a rundown fence. During the early stages, I noticed that he tore things apart (the vacuum and VCR) but he couldn’t put them together again. He just looked at the pieces lying in the floor and walked away.

His personality changed, gradually at first, but became more pronounced in time. He was confused and withdrawn. He was compelled to record any shows he watched on TV and watched the same video tapes repeatedly. Always an avid reader, he stopped reading. His collection of Louis L’Amour books and Star Trek books collected dust.

Jim forgot simple things: how to tell left from right, how to button his Levi’s, his birthdate, recognition of people in photographs, and how to behave in public. He became obsessive about stuffing folded paper towels in his shirt/jacket pockets, picking up change (even picked up someone’s tip money at a burger place), wearing his denim jacket in 90-degree weather, and wearing his nametag from Branson from one year to the next.

One of the saddest things that happened was when Jim developed aphasia and became almost completely silent. I missed our conversations so much. I talked to Jim and sometimes he seemed to understand part of it, but I could no longer talk with Jim.

I missed the songs he sang, and eventually, he lost the ability to play his guitar. After Jim was in long-term care, a surgeon amputated a finger on his right hand, which had turned into an “alien limb,” a symptom of corticobasal degeneration (CBD). Although it didn’t make any logical sense, I was glad that it wasn’t on his left hand—his fretting hand.

With hundreds of types of dementia, symptoms vary. The most common kind of dementia is Alzheimer’s disease. The rare type of dementia Jim had was only diagnosed from his brain autopsy. It was important information to have since we had two sons. Unlike early onset Alzheimer’s, CBD does not have a clear heredity pattern.

Throughout the days that we live, we learn to dance in the rain, and welcome the country sunshine on the warmest of days. If we wait for the perfect time, we will miss our best moments. After all, it’s the simple things that make us happy.

 

Copyright © July 2026 by L. S. Fisher

http://earlyonset.blogspot.com

#ENDALZ

Super Agers

 We all know some of those people who never seem to miss a beat no matter how old they are. One that I knew well was my mom. At 99 years old, she  was sharper than people half her age.. She used a smart phone and got along well with it until she had to change phones or upgrade. Mom watched videos on her phone and liked to look at Facebook.

At one time, Mom did counted cross-stitch, sewed her own clothes, worked crossword puzzles and word search. She played the guitar and loved jam sessions. In her nineties, she played with our family band, and got more applause than the rest of us put together.

I inherited Mom’s love of reading. Mom was one of my beta readers for my blog books, and she had a collection of books. She read daily until macular degeneration stole too much of her eyesight.

In short, Mom was a Super Ager because of a lifetime of keeping her brain active and good genetics. There was never a time in her life when my mom was overweight. She never had trouble with her blood sugar, and her blood pressure only seemed to spike when she had a cataract removed.

Someone asked me if Mom ate healthy food. She lived a block from McDonald’s and often had biscuits and gravy for breakfast and chicken nuggets or a hamburger for lunch. For dinner, and on weekends, my sister-in-law normally sent food by my brother. Basically, Mom ate what she wanted to eat, but she did not overeat.

Another Super Ager trait is to talk to friends and family often. My mom talked to almost all of her kids every day. It got to the point where we would talk during our unofficial “scheduled” time. Mom knew when any of us went to the doctor or had tests and would make sure the rest of the family was informed. She enjoyed family and friends dropping by.  

Mom checked off almost all the boxes on the Super Ager checklist, and you could tell it. I think somewhere along the line, she must have gulped water from the fountain of youth. She never looked her age, and more importantly, as the decades flew by, she never acted like an old person.

We have no guarantees in life that our brains will remain healthy for a lifetime, and often Alzheimer’s and other types of dementia are the luck of the draw. Like the old saying goes, use it or lose it.

I find that I have more mental glitches as time goes on and a brain scan showed that I have mild white matter disease. Considering my age and my sarcoidosis diagnosis, I can live with mild changes. I’m confident that I still have plenty of white matter that’s healthy. My doctor said that it doesn’t mean that I’ll get Alzheimer’s but it is important to watch my “numbers” so that I don’t develop vascular dementia.

When I was working, I thought retirement would be a time to relax. My writer friend, Judy, used to say: If you think you’re busy now, retire!”

I didn’t think it was possible, but I finally had to limit my retirement work time by creating a schedule. It certainly helps as too much multitasking creates too much unnecessary work. I get more accomplished when I work on one project at a time.

When I was working, I worked forty hours a week, and I had evenings and weekends off. Well, not exactly “off” since I was a caregiver and finished my bachelor’s degree at the same time.

After I retired, I thought it was okay to work all day and half the night to get everything done. Now, that I’m handling my own affairs and Harold’s Estate and Trust, I have to spend hours each week to keep up. Throw in a little volunteer work and hobbies, and, yeah, I need that schedule.

Although it was never my nature, I’ve disciplined myself to be an occasional guiltless procrastinator. When I think about the extra time it gave me to spend with my Super Ager mom while she was still with us, I’m so glad that I did.

Copyright © June 2026 by L. S. Fisher

http://earlyonset.blogspot.com

#ENDALZ

Care for the Caregiver

 

I have a story in the latest Chicken Soup for the Soul book Care for the Caregiver. My story is about my mom at a time she traveled from her home on the Lake of the Ozarks to help me take care of Jim. The story “Under Control” is a snapshot of the way my mom filled in for the professional caregivers on the days they weren’t scheduled, or the days they didn’t show up.

The care of a person with dementia falls heavily on the primary caregiver. It takes a village to care for a person with dementia, and I was fortunate enough to have a village. I was also only in my mid-forties, and still was overwhelmed at times. Nights and weekends were mostly alone time with Jim.

As his disease progressed, I found that caregiving was on the job training for a job I never envisioned. Jim was an intelligent, practical person. He was mechanical and could fix anything. Vietnam had left him in pain from a neck injury and in torment with flashbacks and PTSD.

As if life hadn’t dealt him enough blows, at forty-nine, he began his ten-year journey into a strange new world where his brain didn’t function normally. His behavior went from unusual to bizarre.

My mom called it “unlearning” and that was a good description. Jim’s aphasia meant he lost his ability to communicate. He would often say, “Right here, but I can’t find it.” Little things became big issues, and when he couldn’t say the letters on the eye chart, they would not issue a new drivers license.

 Watching someone you love lose his ability to think, speak, and a lifetime of learned skills causes a thousand shades of grief. The long-term care decision is a final blow when you realize that the last shred of independence is gone. As an exhausted stressed-out caregiver, the time had come to make the best decision for both of us.

I never relinquished my role as a caregiver and advocate for the best care for Jim. Some people thought I had lost my mind when I bathed, fed, and provided personal care for him in the nursing home.  I did it for him, but also for me. I had to know that he was as comfortable as possible.

It takes a village. The nurses, nurse’s aides, Jim’s family, our family, and other health professionals all did our parts. Family fed him, often bringing home-cooked food, or his favorites from fast food places. I took him through Dairy Queen so often that they knew what I was going to order. I took him for drives, walks in the park on nice days, and down the hallways during bad weather.

We did as much as we could for as long as we could. Although Jim didn’t have his normal sense of humor, he still had a way of smirking when he saw I was doing something wrong. The glimpses of Jim being his old onery self from time to time became cause for celebration.

I tried not to think about what might have been or what would never be. Life became moment to moment. I was not alone. I had my village to care for Jim and me, the caregiver.

 https://www.facebook.com/ChickenSoupfortheSoul

 Copyright © June 2026 by L. S. Fisher

http://earlyonset.blogspot.com

#ENDALZ