Life Is a Mist

Sometimes I hear a message on Sunday morning that speaks to my heart. This Sunday, Pastor Candice talked about the book of James. The gist of the section was we should not brag about tomorrow because we don’t know what tomorrow might bring. I underlined, “You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes.”

This really puts into perspective how fleeting life is and what a small speck our years here on earth are in the realm of eternity. So what do we do with our precious time? We fight. We argue. We worry about tomorrow. We think of ourselves as important—at least in our own little corner of the world.

When I was a little girl, I sometimes wondered if people existed when they weren’t where I could see them. Talk about thinking I was the center of the world! I don’t know at what point in my life I stopped those foolish thoughts. At least I was a kid. I know people who think the world revolves around them and they are supposedly all grown up.

The thought that life is but a mist really fits into my line of thought now. As Dorothy said, when she was in OZ, “My! People come and go so quickly here.” If you think about the people in your life, you will see that like the mist, they sometimes surround you with love and other times they vanish into thin air.

We lose people for a lot of reasons. Often, the reason is indifference. They no longer play a relevant part in our lives, and we let them slip away into the mist of the forgotten. Sometimes, the reason is distance. Separation can be caused by miles and miles of physical distance, or by the distance of growing apart philosophically or simply from having nothing in common.

Other people we love regardless of how far adrift they are from our everyday lives. Family ties can transcend any barriers. Friends are the family we choose. True friends can practically pick up in the middle of a conversation although they may have not seen each other for months.

When we are separated from our loved ones by death, sometimes we can feel their presence and at times reach out to touch them in our minds, hearts, and dreams. They are gone, but they are here in a way that can comfort us. Memories can hit with such force that it takes our breath away. The mist clears and we find ourselves in another moment, another time, a different dimension.

Life is a mist. What is important? I remember one time a woman asked me if I was jealous of my sister because she lived in a new, lovely home. At the time, Jim and I were renting an old house with sloping floors and ill-fitting windows. We had old furniture we’d bought from a second hand store. Still, I thought it sounded like a ridiculous idea. “No,” I said. “I’m happy for her.” And I meant it. I had zero jealousy or envy.

What is important to me is not to be famous, rich, or have my name remembered by strangers. I have no desire to be important in worldly ways. All I want is to fulfill the mission I’ve been given in life. I want to give more than I take. I want to love and to be loved.

I want to know the good I can do and then do it. I don’t want to do it for outward recognition; I want to do it for the way it makes me feel on the inside.

When my mist vanishes, I want my legacy to be a life well lived, and more importantly, a life well loved.

Copyright © September 2019 by L.S. Fisher

http://earlyonset.blogspot.com

#ENDALZ

Time to Ruminate

Life has been so hectic the past few weeks that I haven’t had time for a fleeting thought, much less rumination. If I could only find a way to add more hours to the day, it would be helpful. 

I guess in a way, I have added more hours. Unfortunately, the hours are stolen from sleep time. I’ve been in the bad habit of going to bed at midnight and due to appointments, conferences, Walk to End Alzheimer’s, etc, etc, I’ve been getting up early, earlier, or earliest.

Lately, if I can’t find two things to do at once, I feel like I’m wasting precious time. I watch TV and play games on my Kindle at the same time. I walk the dog and practice songs for our nursing home gigs. I stop on my way to the basement to play a short song on my ukulele. You get the idea, I’m sure.

Of course, this doubling up can cause chaos at times. I spilled milk two days in a row. Once on my PC and the other time all over the counter and (oops) my husband. Occasionally, I put something in the cabinet that should have gone in the refrigerator, or leave my phone in the living room and pick up the TV remote instead.

Last week, my husband and I mowed our acres of lawn, and I had some quality rumination time while I mowed. Although, I was exhausted, I decided to use the trimmer, but the battery was dead. (Darn the luck!) I put the battery on the charger, took a shower, and a nap.

The next day, I tackled the weeds around our bevy of hydrants. As I was starting to wear down, I looked at my cell phone to see how long I’d been at it. As I pulled the phone out of my pocket, it began to play a Carter family song from the early 1950s “It’s My Lazy Day.” Seriously? Is that irony, or what? My smart phone is a smart-aleck phone.

After I finished with the yard work, I put Walk to End Alzheimer’s signs and some of the pinwheel flowers from previous walks in our yard. Once I went inside, I signed copies of “Ruminations of a Caregiver” to hand out at Saturday’s Walk to End Alzheimer’s.

While I was frantically trying to get everything done, I was home alone when I started having chest pains. Yes, I’ve had them before, and had three stress tests that showed my heart was in A-1 shape. I took the meds that should have stopped the pain, but it kept right on coming. I was 99% sure it was nothing to worry about, but that bitty 1% warned that my pain was classic heart attack symptoms. All I have to say is never think you might be having a heart attack without taking a book to read. I spent the better part of the day being poked and prodded, just to reaffirm that I had a non-emergency, emergency.

Anyway, the Walk to End Alzheimer’s was a resounding success this year. We had beautiful weather, great attendance, and exceeded our goal. So Saturday was a long day, but a fulfilling day.

Whew. Finally, I felt like I could rest, except Sunday was music practice; Monday, a doctor’s appointment; and Tuesday, advocacy training; Wednesday, we played music at the first of three nursing homes.

Thursday, I had my oil changed, tires rotated, and brakes worked on. It was time well spent because I logged on to the wi-fi and played my game while I waited. Soon, I was speeding down the road, listening to music on Sirius FM. I switched between stations listening for songs I might want to sing. Music is soul food and conducive to rumination.    

Copyright © September 2019 by L.S. Fisher

http://earlyonset.blogspot.com

#ENDALZ

Car Conversations

We had our annual Walk to End Alzheimer’s fundraising “Traffic Stop” on Labor Day. As usual, the day had its busy times and its lulls. Our collections depend on the traffic building up at the stop sign in my hometown.

We took our positions along the road with our collection buckets. My granddaughter entertained with her purple flag. She threw it in the air and after it whirled around, she caught it, whipping into a pose. Several people applauded, others cheered, and some commented on how impressive she was.

“You are helping my collections,” I told her. I commented on her poses after she caught it.

“I’m not showing off,” she said. “I went down on my knee because that’s how I was able to catch the flag.” She laughed and tossed it high. “If I wanted to show off,” she said, “I would do this.” She caught the flag and did the splits.

This year, the city police officer decided to direct traffic—to avoid the backlog. This has only happened a couple of times in the 21 years we’ve collected. As the traffic approached us, the officer stood in the intersection, gesturing for the cars to keep moving.

One lady stopped in front of me, ignoring the urgency of the officer. She dropped a donation into the container I held out for her. With tears welling up in her eyes, she said, “My husband died from Alzheimer’s about this time last year.”

With those few words, we connected. “I’m so sorry. I lost my husband to dementia too,” I said. She paused a moment, as if she had much more to say but couldn’t find the words. Then she drove through the intersection.

“He isn’t doing us any favors,” I told my sister. “It’s a little hard to collect when the traffic is whizzing by.” At least he wasn’t there all the time. He would leave and return periodically.

Car after car ignored the opportunity to go through the intersection as they paused to give us collections and share their stories. My granddaughter said, “The officer underestimated the generosity of people.”

The cool morning turned into a warm afternoon. We had mini-conversations with the donors. One woman handed me a $20 bill. “This is to honor my mom and my grandma. They both have Alzheimer’s.”

After each donation, I said, “Thank you, have a safe trip home.” Several people automatically said, “You too.” Some of them seemed to hesitate as they realized they had wished me a safe trip. One lady seemed particularly frustrated that she had said it. I laughed. “Everyone says the same thing,” I assured her.

One man told me, “I don’t have any money, but I’m going to the bank. I’ll be back,” he promised.

The day wore on. I heard stories about moms, dads, sisters, brothers, and friends who were living with dementia or had died with it.

The officer had left the intersection and we saw his car on a side street. We assumed he was keeping an eye on the traffic from the comfort of his car rather than standing in the middle of a hot street. We heard a siren. He pulled a car over in front of where my daughter-in-law Stacey was collecting. After he finished writing the ticket and walked back to his patrol car, I saw a hand come out the window to give Stacey a donation.

The afternoon sun was beating mercilessly down on us, so we began to gather up the signs and pinwheels. A car drove onto the side street behind us and handed Stacey a $20 bill.

After he drove off, she turned to me and said, “That man told me he had to go to the bank.”

“He told me the same thing! I never really thought he meant it,” I said.

I guess you just can’t underestimate the generosity of people.

Copyright © September 2019 by L.S. Fisher

http://earlyonset.blogspot.com

#ENDALZ

Into Each Life

On this cloudy, rainy August day, I thought about the Henry Wadsworth Longfellow quote, “Into each life, some rain must fall.” It seems that sometimes the rain falls harder than it does at other times.

Last year, our Walk to End Alzheimer’s was during a steady downpour. We had rain at previous walks, but never a constant deluge like last year. Although the Highway Gardens at the Missouri State Fairgrounds is a lovely place to hold our walk, the grounds turned into a mud pit. Tents and tables sank into the mud and turned over. I couldn’t take my books out of the tubs.

Although, we handled the weather as well as could be expected, it inspired us to get off our keisters and look for a location that had some shelter. This year, for the first time, we chose Centennial Park and a different weekend.

When you hold an annual outdoor event, it isn’t a matter of if it will rain on that special day, but when it will rain. The same holds true for life. Rain happens.

Gully washers happen during our darkest moments. We hear the rolling thunder and feel sharp pangs of lightning bolts when they strike our hearts. Clouds seem to hang over our heads blocking out the sunshine that should warm our souls. Flash floods threaten to wash away our optimism and feelings of self worth.

Then we have the steady downpours. Just when we think we’re between showers, it starts up again soaking us to the bone. Then a cold wind blows away our defenses and we might as well be naked as wrapped in wet garments. We get to the point where we just can’t take anymore. At some point, a little droplet of rain can be the tipping point.

During scattered showers, we can dash from thought to action and never get wet. If all fails, we can throw on a rain jacket and pop up an umbrella. We know that scattered showers replenish our spirits and blossoms into a bright array of color. During scattered showers, we realize that rain is essential to life and that without it, we, and everything we love, would die. Then the sun breaks through the clouds and we remember that “a sunshiny shower won’t last half an hour.”

A half hour isn’t long and most of us can remain optimistic for that length of time. Life is different degrees of rain, but rain is essential to life.

Photo credit: Jessica Buesing, The Scarlett Lens

Copyright © August 2019 by L.S. Fisher

http://earlyonset.blogspot.com

#ENDALZ

Come Home

Each year the Missouri State Fair has a theme, and this year’s theme “Come Home” is thought provoking. Since I live a few short miles from the State Fair City, I just need to drive across town to “come home” to the fair.

Like many people in Sedalia, I’m not that thrilled about the fair. Oh, yes, I’ve enjoyed concerts, walking through the exhibits, working at the Missouri Coop Building, and have spent countless hours on the midway while I kept an eye on the young ones in the family. I have great memories, good memories, and wish-I-was-home-under-the-air-conditioner memories.

The first night of the fair this year was pleasant, but I was too exhausted to consider going. Since then, the weather has ranged from hot to bake-a-cake hot. Then, there’s the occasional thunderstorm. Oh, yes, we can be in the middle of a drought, but you can count on rain during the fair.

One of the first things that crossed my mind with “Come Home” was the exact feeling I always had when Jim and I drove into Estes Park. We went to Rocky Mountain National Park each year, and although some things changed from year-to-year, the predominant emotion was a sense of homecoming.

Along with the eventual changes in Estes Park were the inevitable changes in Jim. Our first trips, we spent camping, hiking, and going to the Lazy-B Ranch for music and a delicious meal. The last few times, we stayed in a cabin, and I watched Jim lose the ability to camp and hike. It was the end of an era for us.

While Jim was in the nursing home, I made a trip to Estes Park with my mom, sister, and sister-in-law. I hadn’t been to the mountains for several years. It was like coming home to a different house. Everything had changed so much physically and emotionally. Several of my favorite shops had closed, the visitor’s center had grown into a huge hub of activity, and the Lazy-B Ranch was no longer in existence. I didn’t have Jim to cook a campfire breakfast, to sneak treats to “Chubby” the chipmunk, or to sit around the campfire and tell tall tales.

We all know that everything changes through the years, even our home. We may long for the familiar home of our memories and to see loved ones who live in the homes of our hearts, but are no longer with us.

Home is where our stories began and where we became who we are. It doesn’t matter if we lived in a shack long ago and now live in a mansion. There is a chunk of our being that is wrapped in the recollections of our beginnings.

Home. The word isn’t just any old word. Home is a word that entails a visual image in 3-D, complete with smells and sounds. Memories of home can be good or bad for a lot of reasons. Regardless, it is a big part of each of us. The lessons we learn from our parents mingle with our DNA to mold us into the adults we become later in life.

Copyright © August 2019 by L.S. Fisher

http://earlyonset.blogspot.com

#ENDALZ

Not Its Intended Use

A few years ago, we received a microwave popcorn popper as a door prize at an annual meeting. The first time we tried to pop corn, the top melted and the popcorn was charred. Since it didn’t work, I prepared to dump it in the trash.

“Keep it,” my husband, the farmer, said. “We might be able to use it for something else.” I threw away the melted lid and kept the bottom part, against my better judgment. I saw the plastic bowl with a handle as a waste of space. Even as a popcorn popper, I didn’t see much use for it since I can’t eat popcorn.

Oddly enough, we use the plastic bowl almost daily for scraps and vegetable peelings. When we start preparing a meal, one of us will say, “I need the plastic bowl.” Although not its intended use, it is our most used kitchen container.

Every Memorial Day, I search for a plastic vase to take fresh flowers to the Veterans Cemetery. For the unaware, it is practically impossible to find a plastic vase. My husband came up with the idea of cutting the top off a Simply Apple juice bottle and wrapping it in patriotic duck tape. Not its intended use, but it works.

Sometimes medication can be used for a different purpose, called off-label use. It takes years to develop and test medication, but when a drug can be used for more than one condition, it dramatically shortens the time to get the drug to consumers.

One of the off-label uses for the  Alzheimer’s drug Memantine (Nameda) is for it to be added to the standard therapy used to treat obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD) and attention deficit order (ADHD).

Antipsychotic drugs are often used off label to treat the symptoms of Alzheimer’s. One of the common drugs used is Seroquel. Another off label use for Seroquel is for Insomnia.

I believe more caution should be used in prescribing antipsychotic drugs to people with Alzheimer’s. Jim had some serious reactions to them. Seroquel was commonly prescribed to residents in the Alzheimer’s unit. They tried it on Jim and instead of calming him, it made him hyperactive. Other psychotic drugs caused him to be angry and out of control. One even caused so much foam coming out of his mouth that he couldn’t eat or drink. The physicians treating him swore they had never seen that reaction before.

Although commonly used in people with dementia, antipsychotics increase the risk of death and decrease the quality of life. While looking for a home for Jim, I visited one home where the Alzheimer’s residents appeared to be in a stupor. I thought it odd at the time, but after seeing how antipsychotic drugs affect most people with dementia, I’m sure they were overmedicated.

Not all drugs used off-label are bad. Many years go into the development of prescription drugs and off-label use of an approved drug can bring relief to a patient, or even be life-saving. For example, some cancer drugs are approved for one type of cancer, but may successfully treat a different type. Chemotherapy treatments are often a combination of drugs that fight more than one type of cancer.

Sometimes, veering from the intended purpose can be successful, and sometimes it can create problems. Antipsychotic drugs for people with dementia can be life-threatening and more harmful than helpful. Using a popcorn popper for a receptacle for scraps is handy and safe—in fact, safer than using it in the microwave!

Copyright © July 2019 by L.S. Fisher

http://earlyonset.blogspot.com

#ENDALZ

SHIELD for Alzheimer’s

It is hard not to be frustrated that Alzheimer’s is a terminal disease. It is easy to feel helpless and hopeless, but that is not productive. We need to grasp the reins and do everything within our power to take care of those who have the disease, find effective treatment, and find a cure. It is also a major goal to prevent Alzheimer’s. Until an immunization is perfected, research has given us tools to reduce our chances of developing Alzheimer’s, or possibly delay the onset.

Dr. Rudi Tanzi recommends lifestyle changes to reduce the risk of Alzheimer’s disease as much as 60%. He says the word shield can be used to remind you of healthy habits that can help keep your body and brain healthy.The word shield can be used to remind you of healthy habits that can help keep your body and brain healthy.

Sleep. We need our zzz’s to function. The rule of thumb used to be eight hours, but in today’s world, we don’t go to bed at dark and get up at daylight. Shift workers may have a difficult time to get a good “days” sleep. When our internal circadian clock gets out of whack (not the medical term!) the brain doesn’t go through its cycle to wash away the plagues that want to clog up our brains.

Handle stress. I don’t want to cause stress by mentioning how detrimental to a person’s health stress is. Stress releases the hormone cortisol, which can damage brain cells and cause inflammation. Recent studies indicate that brain inflammation is linked to Alzheimer’s disease. We can’t avoid stress; we can only manage it.

Interact with friends. Being socially active is your “friend” when fighting Alzheimer’s disease. By socially, I’m not talking Facebook friends who may be more annoying than helpful. I’m talking about friends who have your back and bring joy into your life. If that happens to be your Facebook friends, then by all means, interact to your heart’s content. Loneliness and isolation increases the risk of developing Alzheimer’s disease. 

Exercise. We all know the benefits of exercise. Exercise increases energy level, reduces stress, and helps us maintain a healthier body and brain. Yes, exercise helps your brain. It increases the blood flow in the brain and helps cognition. Find a physical activity you enjoy that fits your physical condition. Exercise with friends to double your fight against Alzheimer’s disease!

Learn new things. If you are like me, you want to learn new things. I learned to play the ukulele about two years ago and now I’ve joined the family band. We play music once a month in three different nursing homes. Learning new things create new synapses in your brain. How cool is that? Having fun and helping my brain.

Diet. No, don’t go on a crash diet! Yo-yo dieting is bad, bad, bad for your health. Your mama knew what she was talking about when she told you to eat your veggies. A Mediterranean type diet reduces the risk of Alzheimer’s disease. A diet rich in vegetables, fruits, legumes, whole grains, fish, and olive oil is good for your heart and your brain. So, instead of starving yourself, feed your brain!

If we do all these things are we guaranteed not to develop Alzheimer’s?  The short answer is no. If you wear a seatbelt, it does not guarantee that you will not be injured or killed in an auto accident, but it does increase your chances of survival. If you exercise and lower cholesterol, it doesn’t mean you will not have heart disease, but it lowers your risk.

Life doesn’t come with a guarantee warding off ugly diseases, but use your SHIELD for the best defense against Alzheimer’s disease.

source: Tanzi, Dr. Rudi, NBC Nightly News, July 16, 2019 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bgkJWQkngAw

Copyright © July 2019 by L.S. Fisher

http://earlyonset.blogspot.com

#ENDALZ

Imagine a Land Free from Alzheimer’s

Our Walk to End Alzheimer’s group participated in the annual 4^th of July Parade. My friend WyAnn had prepared a sign that said, Imagine a Land Free from Alzheimer’s. Along the parade route, there isn’t much time to think of anything, but after the excitement died down, I couldn’t stop thinking about that sign.

What if our land was free from Alzheimer’s? Think of how much that would impact the 5.8 million American families who have a loved one with Alzheimer’s disease. Imagine what a wonderful world this would be.

Our memories, personalities, and skills are the most basic part of our lives. Yet, dementia steals those precious qualities from people we love. Our mothers become our daughters. Our fathers become our sons. Our spouses become our children as we love them and care for them. Collectively, we American families provide 18.5 billion hours each year taking care of our own.

From personal experience, I can tell you that being a primary caregiver for someone with dementia is not for sissies or the squeamish. In the early stages, my caregiver duty was to keep Jim on track. I went to the doctor with him and kept track of his medication. His skill levels began to diminish. A man who once had the ability to tear a car down and put it back together would dismantle a vacuum sweeper or a VCR, but couldn’t reassemble the parts.

In the middle stages, caregiving was more intense. The day started with helping him bathe and get dressed for the day. These jobs became harder as the disease progressed, and he needed more help with toileting and incontinence. Jim only needed about four hours sleep, and I couldn’t sleep with him wandering around the house, or worse yet outside in the dark. His wandering was dangerous and along with other behavior problems, it was obvious he needed a safer environment.

Caregiving doesn’t end at the nursing home door! Some caregivers are comfortable with providing emotional support, interacting with staff, and supervising care. My comfort level was to make sure Jim was clean, fed, and comfortable. For the five years Jim was in nursing care, I, or a member of our family, checked on him almost every day and assisted with his care.

The clock is ticking. Every 65 seconds another person in our land begins the Alzheimer’s journey. Imagine if that didn’t happen, or if it did, it could be cured. Well, if wishing and hoping could make it happen, dementia wouldn’t exist.

According to the Alzheimer’s Association, Alzheimer’s will triple in a generation if we don’t have a medical breakthrough. We can’t have a breakthrough without research. When I first went to DC to advocate for Alzheimer’s research funding, NIH had budgeted less than $500 million for research. I know that to you and me that sounds like a lot of money, but it is barely a blip on the radar of research possibilities. Research was stalled at a time when it should have been accelerated. If you don’t see that, look at how our country used the necessary resources to find an effective treatment for HIV and AIDS. HIV/AIDS was once the inevitable death sentence that Alzheimer’s is today.

It has taken us two decades to reach a level of research funding that could bring about a positive result. Now, we need to be relentless in advocating for research dollars. We cannot afford to wait another two decades for a cure. The clock is ticking.  

Imagine if our land was free from Alzheimer’s disease.

Reunions

For the past couple of years, several of us women who graduated from the same high school have met for lunch once a month. I reconnected with several friends that I hadn’t seen in years. We’ve bonded over life’s circumstances and decided that we like each other much better now that we’re older. These mini reunions led to us becoming a planning committee for our 50^th class reunion.

When we think about it, life is full of reunions. A chance meeting in a grocery store, a club meeting, a conference, or a public event can be a reunion. Each year at the Walk to End Alzheimer’s I see some people I haven’t seen in quite awhile. Some return year after year, and others are just beginning the Alzheimer’s journey. These are bittersweet reunions. We are happy to see each other, sad for the circumstances.

Each year at the Alzheimer’s Forum, I have a reunion with my good friends Sarah, Jane, and Kathy. A year is a long time, but it seems that we can almost pick up our conversations from the previous year mid-sentence. We all lost our husbands to dementia and developed an amazingly strong bond. We are sisters of the heart.

We reunite with friends and relatives on social media and make new “friends.” We can keep up with births, deaths, marriages, as well as, what someone had for dinner. The important events are often interspersed with mundane observations, political rants, and too much information. The jury is still out as to whether the benefits outweigh the drawbacks.

We are caught up in our own little world and are shocked when we learn of a friend or family member’s death. What is the first thing we all say when we run into family members at funerals? “We need to get together somewhere besides a funeral!” Sound familiar? Yet, we go our separate ways and lead our separate lives. We never get around to making that call, meeting for lunch, or making that road trip.

Since I’ve joined the Capps Family Band, I spend more time with my birth family than I have in years. Although I’ve not accomplished many of my retirement goals, at least I’ve done well in spending more time with my mom and siblings. We have two practice sessions a month and play music at three different nursing homes around the middle of each month.

An additional benefit of playing music is that I get to spend more time with my aunt. She likes to hear us sing at the nursing home, so my mom and I pick her up when we play in Versailles. I think I’ve spent more time with her in the past two years than all the years before.

Whether it’s at the grocery store, a family reunion, or a chance meeting, I love running into friends and family. Even if we only have a brief conversation and a quick hug, it reminds me of the connections I’ve made throughout my life. Mini reunions make my heart sing.

      

Copyright © June 2019 by L.S. Fisher

http://earlyonset.blogspot.com

#ENDALZ

Love Is Action

Thinking back, I can’t remember how many weddings I’ve attended. The last one, just a few days ago, was for my granddaughter, Whitney. During the ceremony, the minister said something that resonated with me. He read the standard verses from 1 Corinthians 13:4-8 that I had heard at numerous weddings. After he read the verses, he pointed out that love is described as actions, not emotions.

After the promises and commitment to a life together, I watched my beautiful granddaughter dance with her handsome groom. My eyes blurred with tears at how quickly the years have gone by. I thought of her first “wedding dance” when she was curled in her Grandpa Jim’s arm as she danced between us at her Uncle Bob and Aunt Stacey’s wedding.

The minister’s words about love being actions made me realize a truth. No matter how much someone professes their love, if their actions don’t reinforce their words, they undermine them. Too often emotions stand in the way of logic, self-respect, and in extreme cases—personal safety.

Thinking of love as action is an excellent way to begin a marriage and when the time or circumstances warrant, it is the only way to end a lifetime commitment. Love as action is the best way to describe the love of a caregiver for a spouse or other family member who has dementia.

Love is patient. A caregiver has to be patient and allow her loved one to do as much as he can for as long as he can. Yes, it might be easier and faster to do it yourself, but allow extra time for your loved one to perform daily tasks. As the disease progresses, it takes time and patience to provide the level of care that a person with dementia requires.

Love is kind. As a person loses his skills, it is important to appreciate what remains instead of complaining about what a person cannot do. To belittle a person who has dementia when they make a mistake would make as much sense as kicking someone’s broken leg because they couldn’t walk on it. Being kind will help you sleep better at night.

It is not easily angered. When a caregiver actively cultivates patience and kindness, it would follow that he would be less likely to become angry with his loved one. You may have to constantly remind yourself that it is the disease that is responsible for behavior problems.

It always protects. One of the main jobs of a caregiver is to protect your loved one. You are responsible for your loved ones safety and physical well-being. You may even be responsible for your loved one’s financial stability. A caregiver finds the strength to stand up against anyone who tries to take advantage or abuse her loved one in any way.

Love always hopes. When we can no longer hope for our loved one to regain his health, we can hope that he will have a good day. We can hope for a cure, so that a disease that stripped away our loved one’s talents, his quality of life, or her memories won’t strike others down.

Love perseveres. Dementia is not a sprint; it’s a marathon. A caregiver must have perseverance to provide loving care for years and years.

Love never fails. Unconditional love is about the only way to describe caregiver love. We all expect the love we give to be reciprocated, but when dementia is involved that may not be the case. When it comes to dementia, a parent or a spouse may become like a child. Instead of fading away, your love may become stronger as it evolves into a different kind of love—one that is action combined with the emotional memory you hold in your heart.

 Copyright © June 2019 by L.S. Fisher

http://earlyonset.blogspot.com

#ENDALZ