Alzheimer's Daughter

The Story

Alzheimer’s Daughter introduces the reader to my healthy parents, Ed and Ibby, years before their diagnosis, then recounts painful details as our roles reversed and I became my parents’ parent.


Their disease started as translucent, confused thoughts and ended in a locked memory care unit after a near decade of descent into the opaque world of Alzheimer's.

I began writing Alzheimer’s Daughter one week after my mother's death––when I was stunned, realizing Dad had no memory of her or their 66-year marriage.

I write to pay tribute to the undying spirit at Ed and Ibby's core, and with the hope that the story of their parallel decline might be helpful to others.

Sunday, June 7, 2015


How young. How thin. How cute they are. Filled with hope patriotism, and love of God and country.

Alzheimer's Daughter starts with this letter from my mother to my father as their commitment was just beginning. 

I'm curious as to why Mom didn't realize how she felt about my dad before he left for the Army. In their case, absence really must have made the heart grow fonder. 

They build a long-distance relationship through letters and weekend furloughs. That foundation lasted for 66 years, through Alzheimer's disease, even when they didn't know me or know their own names, until my mom's last breath. 

I'm thankful that love formed me and their positive spirits live within me. I hope I'm able to pass that spirit on to others each day, even if it's only through a smile or a kind word. 


Monday, June 1, 2015

Beyond Still Alice: 5 Alzheimer’s Books You May Have Missed

Guest post by Marianne Sciucco

What do you know about Alzheimer’s? Anything? What should you know about Alzheimer’s? Something.

This is not just our parents’ disease. It’s a problem that has far-reaching complications, not only wreaking havoc in the life of the one afflicted but in the lives of all those surrounding him or her: spouse, child, grandchild, sibling, friend, caregivers, and the greater community. Its impact is exponential: For each one of the 5.3 million Americans diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, there are another 5.3 million (at the very least) affected. (Alz.org) These people are our family, neighbors, co-workers, friends, acquaintances. As our lives intersect and intertwine, this disease affects all of us.

June is Alzheimer’s and Brain Awareness Month. Take some time this month to learn more about this illness, to understand what it means to those who love someone afflicted, to those who dedicate themselves to seeing they are cared for, and ensure their lives continue to have meaning and dignity.

There are many ways to become educated about a condition or disease. In regard to Alzheimer’s, there are hundreds of books available to explain it, advise what to do about it, how to handle it, and offer solutions and support for caregivers. These are excellent resources.

However, stories that enlighten through the careful balance of useful facts and a cast of relatable and realistic characters may be a better way to shed light on this and many other medical issues. This type of presentation enables the reader to get inside the head of the Alzheimer’s patient, their caregivers, spouse, children, and other loved ones. It’s up close and personal, not clinical and removed.

Here are five titles to get you started. Three are memoirs, two are novels. Two are written by women who did double duty at the same time, caring for both mother and father as they suffered with dementia and Alzheimer’s. Another is the story of a woman healing her relationship with her mother after an Alzheimer’s diagnosis. One is written by a novelist wanting to pay tribute to those who rise to the difficult challenge of serving as caregiver to a loved one with this disease. One is written by a nurse who worked with hundreds of Alzheimer’s patient and their families.

Alzheimer’s is a frightening possibility, but to meet it without knowledge or an understanding of its implications increases despair and hopelessness and strips one of the power to make competent decisions and access necessary supports and resources. Knowledge gained through literature can be as practical and useful as any self-help or how-to manual.


Vicki Tapia, Somebody Stole My Iron, A Family Memoir of Dementia

“I wrote my story to offer hope to others whose lives have been intimately affected by this dreadful disease, to reassure them that they’re not alone.”

How would you cope if your loved one’s mind gradually slipped away?
                    
Navigating the waters of dementia can be frightening, unleashing a myriad of emotions for everyone involved, precipitating anxiety and grief, anger and frustration, extreme sadness and feelings of hopelessness.  After Vicki’s mother was diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease, followed closely by her father with Parkinson’s disease-related dementia, she struggled to find practical, helpful information to light her way.  Somebody Stole My Iron began as a diary to help her cope, but emerged as a road map for others.  It offers a glimpse into her family's life as they rode the waves of dementia, sometimes sailing, other times capsizing.  This engaging memoir offers useful information from experts within the field of Alzheimer's research, personal lessons the author learned along the way, and ideas/tips for managing the day-to-day ups and downs of dementia.

Somebody Stole My Iron chronicles the tenacity of Vicki’s mother as she fought her way through the tangled and bewildering labyrinth called dementia.  Above all, it is a story of holding on and ultimately learning to let go, transcending the pain and turmoil to discover both an abiding love and a tender compassion.


Maria Hoagland, Still Time, a novel

“Medical and family drama are intriguing to me, but it wasn't the unusual that grabbed my attention for this book. I wanted to spotlight the stalwart courage and strong character that are revealed when someone has to rise to a difficult challenge. I believe we all have it in us to confront our trials, face them head-on, and gracefully endure, and what better way to show that than a mother and caregiver who sacrifices her all for someone she loves?”

Thrust into the chaos of her mother-in-law’s hoarding and forgetfulness, LDS church member Alyssa Johnston wishes she could retreat to a simpler time when her kids were small and almost anything could be fixed with a hug. But reassurance and a quick distraction no longer erase the pain of a missionary son who is struggling, a young teen who is bullied, or a daughter who is distant. As Aly’s own life and relationship with her husband plunge out of control, she wonders if her faith will be enough to keep her family—or herself—from falling apart. Still Time is a deeply moving story about a woman’s faithful journey into the next phase of her life. You will laugh with Aly, feel her sorrow, and see yourself in Maria Hoagland’s realistic, heartfelt portrayal of a woman’s struggle to keep her family safe and hold back time as long as she can.

Available on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, iBooks, and Kobo

Lisa Hirsch, My Mom My Hero, a memoir


“My mother touched me greatly after she showed signs of Alzheimer's. As a long distant caregiver, speaking to her every day, I found myself falling in love with her. I wrote down everything she said so I would never forget it. This is now my book, My Mom My Hero.”

When Lisa found out her mother, Ruth, had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease, her love, appreciation, and caring for her mother was transformed. My Mom My Hero tells the story of this loving mother-daughter relationship. This is an uplifting and inspirational book for anyone going through the difficult and often lonely ordeal of caring for a loved one who suffers from this devastating illness.

Available on Amazon

Marianne Sciucco, Blue Hydrangeas, an Alzheimer’s love story, a novel

“This is a story I wrote from the heart after witnessing the pain and heartbreak of many couples and families struggling with Alzheimer's disease.  The characters are loosely based on one couple I met in my work as a registered nurse. Blue Hydrangeas is my attempt to bring consolation and understanding to all who encounter Alzheimer's.”

What if the person who knew you best and loved you most forgot your face, and couldn't remember your name? 

A nursing facility is everyone's solution for what to do about Sara, but her husband, Jack, can't bear to live without her. He is committed to saving his marriage, his wife, and their life together from the devastation of Alzheimer's disease. He and Sara retired years ago to the house of their dreams, and operated it as a Cape Cod bed and breakfast named Blue Hydrangeas. 

Jack has made an impossible promise: He and Sara will stay together in their beautiful home no matter what the disease brings. However, after nine years of selfless caregiving, complicated by her progressing Alzheimer's and his own failing heart, he finally admits he can no longer care for her at home.  With reluctance, he arranges to admit her to an assisted living facility. But, on the day of admission, Sara is having one of her few good days, and he is unable to follow through. Instead, he takes them on an impulsive journey to confront their past and reclaim their future. In the end, he realizes that staying together at any cost is what truly matters.



Jean Lee, Alzheimer’s Daughter, a memoir

"I wrote what I needed to read as I traveled through the caregiving journey."

What would you do if both parents were diagnosed?

At the time of their diagnosis, Ed Church struggles to his feet, yelling, “How dare you use the A. word with me,” while Ibby wags her finger at the doctor scolding, “Shame on you.”

They defend each other, Ibby by asserting, “We’re not leaving our home,” and Ed reassuring, “We’re just fine.

About his driving Ed states, “I’m an excellent driver, I’ve never had an accident.”

After Rosie moves them to assisted living, convinced they are on a second honeymoon, they break the news, “We’ve decided not to have more children.”

In the late stages, they politely shake Rosie’s hand, inquiring, “Now, who are you?”

In Alzheimer’s Daughter readers journey with the author from her first suspicions that something is awry to a decade later as she is honored to hold Ed and Ibby’s hands as they draw their last breaths.



Thursday, May 28, 2015

Hope

We take pictures of everything. Sometimes I wonder if we miss the joy of a moment because we're grabbing our phones to take a picture and save a memory.

Don't misunderstand. I love my pictures. I collect them, organize them, run them as screen savers and remember with a giggle or a tear special moments.

But, even a decade ago this technology didn't exist. Prior to that time, we planned for a picture, had actual film developed, hoped for the best, and found out maybe a week later if we had taken a good shot. 

This picture was taken of my mother in 1943. It was planned. Maybe it was taken by a photographer. 

Googling took me to the pages of a 1943 Montgomery Wards Catalog showing the cost of average cameras at that time between $40 and $100 with flash attachment and bulbs. That was a huge amount of money after the Great Depression. I doubt Mom's family, small dairy farmers, could have afforded a luxury item like a camera. 

But this event, Mom sitting by her hope chest, with her bridal collection neatly folded within, warranted a picture. She was full of hope for the future and full of love for my dad. That hope never left either of them throughout their  66-year marriage.

They took a chance on a WWII romance and had the dedication to make it last. 


November 11, 1941

Dear Ed,

            I don’t know why––but it seems so much easier to tell you in writing how much you mean to me.  You know there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you.  In these uncertain times everyone needs someone to live for, to dream about––without this we’re lost.
            Ed, I love you with all my heart.  I’d consider it an honor if you’d allow me to wait for you until the war is over.
           Why couldn’t I have realized, and told you about my feelings in person, before you left for the Army?  I am so very sure now.

Lovingly,

Ibby

Tuesday, May 26, 2015

Thank You, Lori LaBey and Alzheimer's Speaks Radio

Thank you so much to Lori LaBey, for her interest in Alzheimer's Daughter, and her advocacy on behalf of all affected by Alzheimer's and dementia.



Monday, May 18, 2015


I spend a large part of each day writing. Some of that time is spent connecting with others around the world who share an interest in Alzheimer's Disease. Also, I'm pouring time into a new children's series, Lexi's Triplets. Lexi is my granddog who helps her mom and dad take care of my two-year-old triplet grandchildren. I travel nearly every week from Cleveland to Columbus to assist Lexi and gather ideas to write her stories. 
http://lexitriplets.blogspot.com

My life is full, never a minute of boredom. I squeeze time in for reading when my mind is too tired to create new material. 

Beyond writing, I crave time to work outside, play in the dirt, creating beauty in my own yard.

This weekend my local granddaughters, age 7 and age 3, had a sleep over. What joy.

Even if we love every day of our work, our lives become a list of tasks to complete........until a sleepover. Every schedule, every list, every predictability is thrown out the window. Nothing takes precedence.

I thought so much about my own mother this weekend––about how her world stopped for grandchildren. 

Both girls planted flowers. The three-year-old helped me plant geraniums and giant marigolds around a light post in my front yard. 


The seven-year-old planted Impatiens in a redwood flower cart that belonged to my mom. 


Later in the day, the seven-year-old asked me to dust off my forty-plus-year-old sewing machine to see if it still worked. I was amazed at her patience, stick-to-it-ivness, and lack of frustration while making a blanket for her younger sister from left-over scraps. 

I felt the spirit of my mom shining down this weekend as her traditions were passed on, many hugs given, and I love yous whispered.

Friday, May 15, 2015

Dad, U.S. Army, Horse Cavalry


As a retired teacher there is no greater joy than to be remembered by a former student. This morning I had the pleasure of being invited to an honors breakfast by a young man I had as a student in third grade. 

When in my classroom, he was not even as tall as my shoulder, but now he's so tall, I don't even reach his shoulder. This young man starts college in the fall and will study to become a high school math teacher.

He reminisced about learning basic math facts, cursive writing, and how to run a vacuum cleaner in my classroom. But his most vivid memory was of meeting my father.

Our third grade classes were always responsible for the Veterans' Day assembly in early November. Our music teacher dedicated the first two months of school to creating the musical and speaking program which would honor our Veterans. Attending this program was a highlight for my dad. He had remained fit enough that he could still wear parts of his uniform sixty years later. 

My student remembered being reluctant to speak to these towering men in uniform, but he bolstered his courage and shook my dad's hand. Today——nine years after that handshake——that's what we talked about. 

I'm so thankful for the young students I was privileged to teach, and I'm especially touched that my former student brought my father to mind for me today. 


Thursday, May 14, 2015

Mom's Favorite Flower


Mom loved all of nature. Dad planted vegetables, and she helped, but her true love was flower gardening.

Each spring, she awaited the blooming of the Bleedingheart. It's an old-fashioned flower, perfectly shaped like a dark pink heart with a drop coming out the bottom. Now, I wish I could ask Mom why she loved them so. It seemed her connection to them was deeper than their beauty. Had her mother grown them? Had Mom's heart bled with the loss of her mother, as mine bleeds for her?

My mother's mother, was the most important influence in my life. She was a humble woman, widowed in her early 50s. She cleaned other people's houses as her source of meager income. Her cookie jar was always full of homemade sugar, molasses, or peanut butter cookies. (I have that cookie jar now, but it's empty most of the time, or filled with Oreos.) I remember having conversations, just the two of us, while eating special lunches she prepared of favorite foods like chicken salad and cucumbers, with mayonnaise cake waiting in the icebox for dessert. After lunch, we'd play our favorite card game, Flinch. She wore simple cotton house dresses with a corset, and clunky black lace-up shoes with stocky inch and a half heels. Grandma never complained. Near the end of her life, she spent about two years in a nursing home because of heart problems. When I visited, she always asked about me, never speaking about her own health issues. Brightness and excitement filled her when I brought my own little children, her great grandchildren, to visit. At her funeral I remember visitors saying, "We never heard your grandma say a bad word about anyone." That thought, about the core of her being, stayed with me. I'm fortunate to have strong, compassionate women who have impacted my life.

I guess the Bleedingheart, because of its name, makes us think of those we've loved and lost.

I love you, Mom. I love you Grandma. Thank you for being role models for me to emulate. I hope I can pass your loving spirit on to future generations.