How do I stop fighting with mom?

“Mom’s room is a mess!” Joe complained. “Every time I go in there, we argue about her clothes and her dirty briefs and all of that!” It was true. Joe and his mom, Bethany, argued nonstop when he came to visit her at our dementia care community.  He’d go into her room, find her dirty briefsContinue reading “How do I stop fighting with mom?”

Boating & Memories – A story by Bob G.

A story by Bob G., a reader who wrote in to Dementia By Day My brother, Al, still lives on the south shore of Long Island, New York—Bellmore to be exact. He has round-the-clock attendant nursing available. My brother has Dementia with Lewy Bodies. He also has the classic Parkinson’s symptoms. When working, Al alwaysContinue reading “Boating & Memories – A story by Bob G.”

The always-made bed

Two single beds sat beside one another. One, unmade, sheets uneven, looked as though it had just been slept in. The other, made, simple—a single sheet on it. A black winter cap lay at the head of the bed, untouched for days, maybe months on end. The rest of the room contained women’s clothing. CleanContinue reading “The always-made bed”

A Letter For An Old Friend

Dot, It has been a while since I’ve seen you. I moved to a new state, but I didn’t tell you that I was moving. I knew that you wouldn’t understand, and I didn’t want to upset you with this news. I think of you often, and I wonder if you think about me. DoContinue reading “A Letter For An Old Friend”

Read The Signs.

“Mike’s Auto Shop. Krispy Kreme Donuts, hot donuts. Sears,” she said. Vera* was reading every single sign we passed on the road. Vera’s dementia has progressed since I first met her, but, for the most part, is still able to carry on lengthy conversations and tell coherent, interesting stories. Her short-term memory is pretty damagedContinue reading “Read The Signs.”

An Old Friend.

I had taken a few of my residents out to lunch when I noticed a woman across the restaurant quietly observing us. It’s not uncommon for me to get a few looks or smiles when I’m out with my residents, but this woman looked as though she wanted to speak to us. A minute passed,Continue reading “An Old Friend.”

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