“Somebody Stole My Iron” made it to the Best Alzheimer’s Books of All Time
I’m excited to announce that Somebody Stole My Iron: A Family Memoir of Dementia was selected for BookAuthority’s Best Alzheimer’s Books of All Time. BookAuthority collects and ranks the best books in the world, and it is a great honor to get this kind of recognition. Thank you, dear readers, for all your support!
Excerpt from Somebody Stole My Iron
The Curious Occurrence of the Comet Cleanser Mom’s shoes had developed a pervasive stench. There was no other way to describe it. In hindsight, I realize it may have been related to the fact that she continuously wore the same pair of leg-support knee-highs. I was somehow deluded into thinking she washed them occasionally. Now I realize she probably did not. I could have been more proactive about washing them myself, but she always wore them, and did not want an additional pair as she felt the cost was too expensive. It would have been an excellent idea if I had bought her a second pair anyway, and helped her…
Reticence
An unexplained inner drive compelled me to document a multi-year sojourn that I took with my parents. It was the last journey we took together…a journey down the rabbit hole of dementia. Within months of each other, Dad received a diagnosis of Parkinson’s-related dementia and shortly thereafter, Mom, with Alzheimer’s disease. During the first year, I began a diary to record our odyssey. Journaling every evening helped me unwind and release some of the turbulent emotions involved with the day-to-day challenges we faced. This journal became my confidante to whom I could “say” anything without fear of reprisal and it asked for nothing in return. It simply listened.
Finding My Tribe
Aren’t you curious to know more? Why do you find this boring? If you could peer into my brain, you might observe these questions bouncing around. I remember being admonished as a child for acting “too inquisitive” or alternately, “too sensitive.” As an adult I’m sometimes told that, in conversations, I either give too many details or ask for too many details, depending on whether I’m telling the story or listening to one. Or worse, I confess to interrupting someone else’s story (my husband) to add more details when I don’t feel he’s imparting enough information. Okay, so I like details! Watching movies, it’s not uncommon for me to be…
Turn Around, Red Robin
Last week I was reminded that answers or solutions aren’t necessarily what or even where they initially appear… I opened the pedestrian door from our garage onto our patio to sounds of frantic fluttering and flapping, coming from our next-door neighbor’s yard. My first thought was “Oh, no, an injured bird.” As I walked closer to the fence dividing our yards, that’s indeed what it appeared. I saw a robin hopping about and frantically flapping his wings. However, when I looked more closely, I realized that wasn’t it at all. The robin was “imprisoned” inside a loop of chicken wire mesh. In an attempt to keep his dog away from…
Aged Appreciation
Appreciation: thankful recognition or gratitude Although Mom passed away 8 years ago from complications of Alzheimer’s disease, a belated appreciation of her has slowly blossomed, especially in the past couple of years. At random moments, I’ve experienced an unmistakable yearning to hug her tenderly and voice my gratitude one more time. In earlier years, I sometimes seemed to lack the ability to show my appreciation in a way that she could relate. She was born in a time of little. As a child, farm work was the only extra-curricular activity she experienced outside of school. On the other hand, while I was growing up as the only child still at…
Imagine
According to Albert Einstein, “Imagination … is more important than knowledge. Knowledge is limited. Imagination encircles the world.”[1] It was late afternoon when my doorbell rang. I peeked carefully out the window and there stood a clean-cut young man. I thought, “Uh oh, a magazine salesman,” but something moved me to open the front door anyway. “Hi, My name is Mikhail.” He turned slightly to point behind him at the sidewalk steps leading up onto the walkway to our front porch. “I’ve long admired those steps and I’m wondering if it would be all right to stand on them next Saturday when I propose to my girlfriend?” “Whaat?” That wasn’t…
Transformative Touch
Did you know that as we grow older, our sense of touch diminishes? Sure, I knew that eyesight and hearing often decline, along with our sense of smell and taste, but it was news to me that our sense of touch declines as well. According to a recent *article in AARP, by the time we’re 80, we’ve only a quarter of the touch receptors we had at 20. Because it’s so gradual, many of us may not even notice this loss. While our sense of touch may lessen, our need for touch certainly doesn’t! Think of what happens to infants that are left untouched–they often do not survive. All human…
Beside the Point
Redundancy: superfluous, unnecessary, extraneous, beside the point An encounter while visiting my daughter and her family gave me my first-ever opportunity to personally experience age-related redundancy. Never before have I felt so beside the point. One afternoon, we walked to a nearby park. Her family had lived in the area for only a few weeks, so there were lots of new people to meet. One of those new neighbors and her children were at the park too, and we began a conversation. First came the introductions. That past, the neighbor looked directly at my daughter and said, “So, how long will your mother be here?” as I stood right beside her,…
The Power of Softness
The holidays have always been a time of togetherness for my family and some of my oldest memories are from this season. It’s only natural for me to “remember when,” so it never comes as a surprise when I develop that unmistakable longing for my mom. If only there were a way to satisfy such a longing with conversation or a hug! Of course, it’s impossible, since Mom passed away in 2008. Recently, a conversation I had with my friend, Jean, about our mothers gave me an idea, and while it can’t help fulfill my yearning as a daughter who has lost her mom, it might make a difference someday…
Author | Adventurer | Advocate
