I washed Mom’s hair today. What a mess! For some reason, Mom, like many Alzheimer’s patients, does not enjoy bathing or showering. Perhaps it is the overwhelming number of tasks associated with morning rituals that someone with Alzheimer’s can no longer remember how to do or what order to proceed in. I imagine Mom has a blank space in her memory when she’s asked to wash. And not being able to do it herself undermines her sense of accomplishment and control when she realizes s

I lost my temper today. Not at Mom, but at her hairdresser, the one who has been cutting her hair for about 20 years. When I called last week to make an appointment, Hairdresser X—we’ll call him Ralph—was hesitant to make an appointment for us. He’s seen Mom become more frail and unpredictable due to Alzheimer’s, so I could understand his hesitation. I assured Ralph I’d be there, too, reminding him that Mom dotes on him and enjoys being in his salon. We showed up early for th

Here’s the hard part about visiting my parents once a week: my children have needs, too. I am a typical member of the sandwich generation, those sandwiched between aging parents who need care and/or help, and their own children. Today was a prime example. I had promised my dad several weeks ago that I would be with Mom while he attended a meeting at his city’s community college. And, wouldn’t you know it, today was also the day that my younger son had an appointment with the