One of the residents in Mom’s facility fell last week and broke her arm. Her eye is horribly bruised, and she must now be helped with everything, including eating and drinking, at least until her arm heals. Maria keeps forgetting she’s broken her arm. Her protestations that she can function lead to her knocking her coffee off the table. She also keeps trying unsuccessfully to rise from her chair, as she can’t put pressure on her arm to push herself upwards from a sitting posi

When my son and his family came for the weekend, we were able to visit Mom for about a half hour before Shabbat came in. Roi, who is 2½, remembers his great grandmother, Savta Naomi. He knows she lives in a special home. Each time he is brought there, he visibly shies away from her, but he is also curious about who she is and why there are such nice games to play with. We did not speak about Mom again during the weekend. Roi developed a fever and was alternately charming and

Like all of us, Mom has good days and bad days. There are times I’ve visited her where she can barely keep her eyes open. Other times, she’s in a happy mood—awake, active, and readily sings along with me from our repertoire of songs. Today was a good day. But as with all our visits, Mom presented a wide range of emotions, not all of them pleasant. When Daddy and I walked in, Mom was so pleased to see us. She clearly recognized us as dear to her. “I want to be here with our fa

“Oh, it’s my mommy,” she said as I entered her house this morning. I was not prepared for this—to be identified as her mom. On the other hand, I wasn’t shocked by it either. On any given day I might be her daughter, her friend, a school mate, a kind stranger. “Hi, Mom,” I countered. “It’s great to see you.” She gave me a big hug and we danced around the room for a while until she started looking for…something, this time by opening each of the small lacquered boxes that sit on

I never cease to be amazed by peoples' reactions to Mom. Sometimes she embarrasses the hell out of me. Today, when we were in the bathroom at the mall, she went up to a complete stranger who does not speak English and started singing, “It’s too darn hot!” I was washing and drying my hands and couldn’t quite head her off in time. But wouldn’t you know it, this lovely woman praised Mom’s voice and thanked her for singing. Unfortunately, Mom often makes snide comments about peop

To paraphrase a quote attributed to Ben Franklin, nothing is certain except death and moving. These past two weeks have been emotionally tumultuous with the celebrations of Holocaust Memorial Day last Sunday, and this week the back-to-back celebrations of Israeli Memorial Day (for the Fallen Soldiers of Israel and Victims of Terror) and Independence Day. In between, we attended a stone setting ceremony for my friend’s father, who coincidentally had the same Hebrew name as my

When my dad was away in September, in my naiveté, I thought it would be easy to drive Mom and myself and her caregiver Sahlee to my home for Shabbat. Mom expressed joy at going to see her grandchildren, and even coming with me to synagogue. Throughout the two-hour journey, Mom commented on the long straight road that seemed to lead nowhere. But she wasn’t unhappy. We listened to the radio and hummed our own tunes, and the trip seemed, to me at least, short. Almost from the mo

I inadvertently broke one of my precepts on taking care of an individual with Alzheimer's. I took Mom to Ikea. You might not think that's such a terrible thing, but the large, crowded, noisy store was too much for her. Did I mention Ikea was having a sale? I put myself first. I wanted to be there. Here is a link to my five precepts on caring for someone with Alzheimer's. Yup. Precept no. 4: Sheild them as much as possible. Mom's bewilderment started in the car park. What were

I knew they’d be hanging there, knew I’d have to share the paintings with others. Yet they still caught me by surprise. It’s my daughter’s last week in high school. As part of her graduation, Liora presented her 12th grade final art project. Rich in scope and imagination, the project focuses on Mom’s Alzheimer’s. Seven water colors, arrayed chronologically, recreate scenes from Mom’s life from her childhood to her engagement and marriage; to her motherhood; playing with her g