Is it true that “No News is Good News?” This week, our interactions with Mom were difficult and depressing. We were unable to connect emotionally with her via the video chat, though she looked well and was certainly responsive to the staff who tried to coax her to interact with us. When we expressed our frustration to the director of Mom’s facility, she invited us to once again meet with Mom outside in the facility courtyard. The August heat is unbearable, though, so I wrote

We were gifted a rare interaction with Mom this week. When we called to video conference, Mom was alert and communicative. Though she reserved her best endearments for the staff with whom she interacts in her facility, she actually followed our conversation and nodded along with us when we sang to her. She told us she loved us. And as we were saying goodbye, she spoke directly to my dad and said, “Bye bye, Darling.” How is it that such a small thing can buoy our emotions so c

The good news is that Mom still reacts positively to personal interaction with the staff at her memory care facility. The bad news is that Corona has prevented us, her loving family, from engaging in that personal interaction. Most of the video chats we’ve held with Mom are utterly depressing. While she may initially be interested in hearing our voices or seeing our faces—and may even react a little—not even her most beloved songs seem to stir her to talk to us. Mostly, Mom s

Perhaps the uncertainty in our world-wide predicament is similar to the permanent sense of uncertainty that Alzheimer’s patients experience.

In the absence of our touch, the staff is now responsible for doling out affections to Mom.

I forgot to visit Mom yesterday at her memory care facility. When I realized I’d missed my appointment, it was too late to do anything other than sigh and berate myself. There are many reasons why I might forget the meeting, chief among them that I didn’t mark it down in my phone’s calendar. It is not because Mom has gone out of my head or that I’m forgetting her. It’s that I got caught up in the various and sundry other things that I was doing. I was supposed to see her afte

We might think that the easing of restrictions means the end to the coronavirus scare, but we’d be wrong.

How can I not hold her hands and pull her to me for kisses and hugs? That’s how I tell her I love her.

The terms of visitation sound like they’re straight out of a horror movie.

It was a small moment of clarity in an otherwise uneventful video chat.

We are nothing without our memories. This is one of the terrible aspects of Alzheimer’s.

The residents in Mom’s ward can’t be isolated one from the other. They need constant supervision.

We are no longer surprised by her absence—we know she cannot be home with us—but we miss her nonetheless.

It’s important to put our Corona pandemic into perspective. We are not being persecuted. We have enough food.

If I try and look at the positives, I can find them.

The combination of age and close living quarters in geriatric facilities creates opportunity for the virus to spread.