Who Says Halloween’s Just For Kids? Easy Tips for Caregivers and Their Loved Ones to Enjoy the Fall Festivities
October 30, 2008 by carolodell
Filed under Alzheimers, Caregiver Stress, Carol O'Dell, Contributing Authors, Featured Articles, Grief and Loss, Uncategorized
You’re never too old for Halloween.
It’s a fun fall festivity that should continue long after our toddlers have flown the nest.
Life brings many challenges–disease, financial difficulties–and the best way to counteract all this doom and gloom is with a boo!
Our elders really get a kick out of Halloween. They love to see the kids dress up and enjoy handing out candy, or at least watching the parade of adorable angels, fairies, pirates, and ghosts walk by.
So go to a little trouble. Why?
You argue that you’ve got enough to do being mom or dad’s daughter/son–and caregiving?
Because you need to play, to smile, and to take a break. You give your elder such a gift to loosen up every once in a while, help them remember a special time–as a child or as a parent–and to reconnect on a totally different level than pills and doctor appointments.
Easy Ways to Enjoy the Fall and Halloween Season:
- Pick up a pumpkin at the grocery store. Even if you don’t cut it, it’s still pretty sitting on the front porch.
- Decorate your house with a few spooky bats. Use some black construction paper or even use some purple, red, or green wrapping paper–who says bats have to be black?
- Hang a ghost from a tree–all you need is a sheet and two black eyes and some string.
- Buy a witch’s hat at a discount store and walk around with a broom and cackle. Your mom or dad will perk up, I promise, if you greet them with their afternoon meds as a witch!
- Splurge on a little Halloween candy. Get something your mom or dad can eat. A couple of marshmallow pumpkins won’t hurt anything. We all have a sweet tooth–at any age. My mom had a thing for Little Debbie snacks–and I couldn’t help but let her enjoy herself with a couple of swiss cake rolls every once in a while.
- Plan ahead, bundle up your senior, and either sit outside or near the front door and pass out candy.
- Light some candles or even string a few Christmas lights around your door–you can leave them up for the next two months and they give off a nice glow.
- Make it a point to meet a few of your neighbors. If you don’t know your neighbors, you need to–and what better way to strike up a conversation than over a cup of hot cider or commenting on how cute their kids are.
- Do you know that young couples miss their grandparents and would love a surrogate grandpa or grandmother for their kids to look up to?
- Let your mom or dad be the candy passer-outer. That will allow them to see the children’s costumes and they’ll enjoy the festivities.
- Consider renting a oldie–but goodie. How about the Bride of Frankenstein–or the old Dracula? If you mom or dad don’t seem to be up for being frightened, then try a little Planet Earth–the one about all the bats in the caves of Mexico scared me more than any scary movie ever could! For a G-rated film, try Charlie Brown’s Halloween Special.
- Make a pot of veggie soup–or chili. Mix up some cornbread and enjoy the fall chill in the air.
- If you’re near your grandkids, then consider going to their house and enjoying the fun. This is how you make family memories–and it’s worth the trouble.
Many elders have shared with me that it’s sad for them to not feel a part of life, to not participate in parties or events because people think they’re too old, and they aren’t interested in ”that sort of thing” any more. That’s simply not true! If you liked parties when you were younger, you still like parties at any age!
Even if they don’t act like they’re enjoying themselves, they might be and just not able to show it. Besides, you need a little pick-me-up as well. Participate in the season’s activity’s for yourself. You still need to be engaged in life.
I read this great short story once about a daughter who took her mom, who had Alzheimer’s, to a Halloween party. Her mom loved it–and totally got into the masks and charades and felt free–not to have to be one person or another–to be concerned with knowing someone, recognizing someone. For Halloween night, she could be anybody she wanted.
I have a favorite Halloween memory of my mom and I. It’s a bit unusual since I grew up in a strict religious household–my mom was a minister–so you don’t exactly think they’d buy into the whole Halloween thing, but she did. I’m glad she didn’t take it too serious because to this day, I still love to dress up.
I hope you enjoy this excerpt from my forthcoming memoir, SAID CHILD, which is the prequel to Mothering Mother. It’s about being adopted at age four, and my search for my birth family–and how I learned to love both my adoptive and birth family.
This excerpt is about my favorite Halloween memory:
Daddy had been in the hospital for back surgery on Halloween when I was about eight or nine years old. It was an especially cold Georgia Halloween night and I fidgeted beside his hospital bed, tired of coloring and wanting to go home and get on my fairy costume and go trick-or-treating. By the time Mama and I kissed Daddy goodbye and we made it out of the hospital and hit the cold night air of the parking lot, I realized it was long since dark. The cold bit into my chest.
“Don’t worry, I have an idea,” she said as she walked a little faster.
We hurried home and I moped around, standing on the heater grate, curling my sock feet over the metal edges for warmth. Mama burst out of her bedroom,
“Count to one hundred, and then come knock on my bedroom door.”
What was she up to? I did as I was told.
“Ninety-eight, ninety-nine, one hundred.” Knock, knock.
Mama cracked open the bedroom door. She peeked out with a sheet over her head,
“Ohhh!” She moaned like a ghost. I squealed and giggled.
“I am a Halloween ghost!” she said in a low voice spooky voice. “Would you like some candy, little girl?”
I ran and got my orange plastic pumpkin bucket and thrust it toward the door. Mama dumped in a handful of Bit-O-Honey candies. She leaned down and whispered for me to count to one hundred again with my eyes closed, and then go to the bathroom door and knock. She motioned for me to turn away as she ran to the next room.
Mama opened the bathroom door wearing Daddy’s trench coat and hat and a mustache she must have drawn on with her eyebrow pencil. I laughed until I fell down and then held out my plastic pumpkin as she emptied Bazooka bubble gum into it.
We ran from room to room and each time Mama appeared as a new character—a maid with apron and spoon in the kitchen, a lady in a evening gown and fancy hat in the closet, a little girl with curlers in her hair and a teddy bear when she emerged from my room.
Mama wasn’t so boring after all. As regular as a clock, she kept my childhood in order. She made sure I scrubbed under my fingernails and practiced my times tables. But she was also a mother capable of a surprise or two–especially on Halloween.
***
Happy Halloween–Get out and Greet Your Neighbors!
Author of Mothering Mother
Family Advisor at Caring.com
Caregivers: You Don’t Have to Like Your Mother to Love Her
October 28, 2008 by carolodell
Filed under Alzheimers, Caregiver Stress, Carol O'Dell, Contributing Authors, Featured Articles, Grief and Loss, Uncategorized
Newsflash: You don’t have to like your mother to love her.
This, for some of us is a relief. We feel like bad sons or bad daughters if every thing’s not warm and fuzzy, but caregiving isn’t about your emotional barometer reading for the day.
It’s no coincidence that we start out tethered to our mothers. The umbilical cord is the first of many. It sustains us, feeds us, is a highway of blood. It’s tough too. I remember my husband cut our daughter’s umbilical cords and he said he really had to work at it.
And after all our mother-daughter ups and downs, we eventually find ourselves back together. Our moms need us–and we need them, even though we don’t know it or admit it. Caregiving comes along and gives us another chance to work at this ancient relationship.
I have a friend I’ll call Jess, and she’s in her mid-thirties, and like most women that age, she’s already racked up a couple of decades of mother-daughter angst. It starts early for us girls.
Jess shared with me that her mother recently asked, “Why were you always so angry with me?”
Now, that’s an age-old question…why are we?
Is it because of hormones? I’m sure.
Is it years of not being able to speak our minds? Absolutely.
Is it that our moms control our lives and even at a young age we want to yank the reigns and drive our own demons? Sure, but it’s even more than that. It’s biological, and it’s necessary–at least for some of us. I do know a few people who have always been sweetsy and close to their moms–and I mean always. I think they’re from another planet…
I finally got to a place of acceptance, but it took awhile.
But with Jess, I’ve noticed how things have begun to change. Jess is engaged. Jess is truly grown now, on her own financially and emotionally–and I think she, and her mom now recognize this fact.
Jess talks about her mom differently now. There’s no animosity. It’s simply gone as if somone had unhandcuffed her. Jess’s mother is flying in for her wedding shower and they’re going shopping all day at the outlet mall while she’s in town. She calls her mom several times a week as she’s driving home from work–just to chat. This wouldn’t have happened even three years ago. Her mom hasn’t changed. She still says certain annoying things any daughter would cringe at, but Jess no longer lets it get to her.
Why the change?
The mother-daughter bond is resilient.
It’s not a warm, cuddly blanket, but a sinuous cord that connects us and keeps our relationship alive through the turbulent years. At times, our anger is the jet fuel we need to grow up and move on with our lives. We “use” our mothers.
We hate them in order to love ourselves. We swear we will never be anything like them. We despise them when we don’t want to admit we despise ourselves. We lash out in words and actions knowing it cuts like a serrated knife. We think it will always be like this–us, way over here–them, way over there.
The resiliency of the mother-daughter relationship that grows stronger over time isn’t a surprise. Pennsylvania State University conducted a study of midlife daughters and their elderly mothers. Researcher Karen Fingerman, Ph.D., found that “despite conflicts and complicated emotions, the mother-daughter bond is so strong that 80 percent to 90 percent of women at midlife report good relationships with their mothers—though they wish it were better.”
After all those years of bickering, name calling, not calling at all, we find out that underneath all that bravado, there’s love. And…we actually want a better relationship with our mother! I never throught that day would come for me, but it did.
Suddenly, through birthing a daughter, a woman finds herself face to face not only with an infant, a little girl, a woman-to-be, but also with her own unresolved conflicts from the past and her hopes and dreams for the future…. As though experiencing an earthquake, mothers of daughters may find their lives shifted, their deep feelings unearthed, the balance struck in all relationships once again off kilter.
~Elizabeth Debold and Idelisse Malave
We are defined by our mothers and find our identities, in part, in them and their life-lessons.
We push off of our mothers like they’re a springboard–the laws of physics at work in relationships. Our “you weren’t there for me’s,” and “why are you always so controlling” finally leave our systems and we get sick of our own whining. The longer we live, we see our mother’s strengths unfold. We view past events in a new light. We turn to them for guidance, even if it’s a “don’t do what I did.”
I love the mother-daughter relationship portrayed in the movie, Spanglish. Tea Leoni and Cloris Leachman are the daughter and mother, and both are a mess–but they’re together–through it all. There’s a scene in the movie when Tea is about to leave to go see her lover (she’s married) and her mother knows what she’s doing–and she tries to stop her. She’s standing by her car pleading with her–and I don’t remember the words–I don’t want to, but what I do remember is her actions. She finishes her sentence and with both hands on the window ledge, she slaps the ledge. Like, I’m done, I’ve said my peace. I know that gesture. I know that feeling of my mother speaking into my own life–having her say.
Our mothers can tell us things no one else can.
Were they bad mothers? Perhaps. At times. But that doesn’t diminish their power or our need to have them in our lives. Even if for a few, our mothers are object lessons, they are still in our lives for a purpose.
Eventually, most of us learn to make at least a measure of peace with mothers–and mothers with their daughters. It’s not a conscience thing. It just is. It’s biological.
Mothers and daughters can fight, argue, cry, blame, and complain–and their bond gets stronger. You don’t even know it’s happening–you think you’re a million miles away. We can even ignore our mothers and go on with our busy adult lives, and that bond is still there. Genetics is one powerful pull.
I’ve seen it countless times–family members who have been hurt find a way to forgive. Daughters who are disgusted with their mother’s choices begin to understand why, and through their own poor choices, they offer a morsel of mercy.
Mothers who seemed hard, controlling, and fussy finally become real people to their daughters. Their daughters begin to realize the that their mothers have lives, dreams, and quiet heartbreaks no one knows about. Mothers loosen up over time and become somone their daughter confides in.
Again, why?
You can’t make peace with yourself, with who you are, with all that you’ve done that had made you ‘you,” until you can begin to accept your mother, your past. She is your key.
What the daughter does, the mother did. ~Jewish Proverb
Our mothers, our daughters define us. We are who we are because of them–good or bad. We look into their faces and we see ourselves–past and future.
Caregiving comes at just the right time. We don’t think it is. We’re busy. We’re moms, and just got our act together. We don’t want to deal with death and dying, with power struggles and forgiveness. But oh, we do and we just don’t know it. Begrudgingly (sometimes) we lay down our grievances and come toether–again.
Caregiving gives us a reason to make up, to let go, to “get over it.”
Whether our relationship is strained or easy, hostile or amiable, we need our mother if only in memory …
to conjugate our history, validate our femaleness and guide our way.
~Victoria Secunda
Something happens when our mothers lives begin to grow smaller either physically, emotionally, or financially–a power shift occurs.
We (the daughters) gain strength and power–and this time to “be on top,” allows us to feel less threatened–and when we’re not threatened–we can be generous with our love.
Eventually, the scales balance.
After years of our mother’s having dominance over our lives (the childhood years), we’ve built up resentment, and finally, as time rolls along, we come into our own, we tower above our mothers for a short time, and that isn’t as fun as it sounds. If we’re lucky, and our mothers live a little longer, we become equal bookends, each of us strong in the broken places and worthy of respect.
And then, just when we make peace, our mothers die. It surprises us. It shocks us. This is too soon, we cry. We just got here, to this place of acceptance, to the point to where we can sit in the same room and breathe the same oxygen. We realize how ironically close we really were–all along–even when we thought we weren’t. We love our mothers in a deep-bone way.
We lose ourselves in grief. We just found ourselves in and through and mothers, and then they leave us. We feel abandoned, lost, maybe even angry. But don’t worry, all that we’ve gained grows inside us.
Looking back, I realize I’ve lost two mothers four times.
My birth mother had schizophrenia and I was taken from her as an infant when the voices told her to hurt herself and her children. I lost her again when I was adopted at the age of four. I didn’t know it would be forever. I lost her again when I was 23, and found my birth family only for them to tell me that my mother was dead–she had died one year before I found them. I cried that day, that week, that year–I cried for the mother I would never know.
I lost my adoptive mother to Alzheimer’s before death took her. To look into the face of someone you know so well–someone who you’ve screamed at, cried and fought with, only to have a disease eat away at her brain like battery acid–and to know that she doesn’t know you, remember you, you hold no emotion, no connection. You might as well we a cardboard box. It ravages your soul and all you believe.
And then death came. In a way, a welcome relief to the heartbreak of Alzheimer’s. I knew it would never give me my mother back.
Why now? Why do we lose our mothers just at the point when we can sit beside them and feel at ease, a give and take? Just when we can be ourselves in the presence of our most formidable foes, our most dependable ally, we lose them.
The woman who bore me is no longer alive, but I seem to be her daughter in increasingly profound ways. ~Johnnetta Betsch Cole
I have no answer for this. The only solace I can give you is that my mother’s life is now my example, her stories, her “ways” ripple through my own life. I don’t idolize her or think she was perfect. That would be an insult to such a great woman. I see her as complex and confounding as ever–but that’s what I like about her, about me.
In a bigger sense, I haven’t lost her, or lost me. We sit side-by-side. Equals. I hear her so much more clearly these days. I feel her respect. I listen.
And now, I have three grown daughters. The torch has been passed. They rail against me at times. I let them. I know the journey they must take to get to their own place of acceptance and strength. I’ll be here. Waiting.
I’m Carol D. O’Dell, the author of Mothering Mother: A Daughter’s Humorous and Heartbreaking Memoir, available on Amazon.
“I Don’t Want to Live With my Adult Children!” Our Parent’s Perspective
September 8, 2008 by carolodell
Filed under Alzheimers, Caregiver Stress, Carol O'Dell, Contributing Authors, Featured Articles, Grief and Loss, Uncategorized
If you’re a caregiver/son, daughter, please read this post.
You need to put yourself in their shoes.
But I don’t want to live with my adult children!
Me neither.
(And I wrote the book, Mothering Mother–and my mom lived with me the last (almost) three years of her life!) That’s my point–my mother lived on her own–with Parkinson’s and early dementia until she was 89 years old!
We’ll all be in this predicament one day–if we live that long–so we need to be empathetic.
My kids are grown, responsible, and we all love each other–and I still don’t relish the thought of permanently living with them! I am a big proponent of family caregiving–but do it when the time is right.
No one wants to give up their independence.
We like things our way, our household “rules,” TV shows, and favorite laundry detergent. Seemingly insignificant choices give us a sense of autonomy and joy to every day life.
We also don’t want to be a burden. I hear this a lot. I feel it on a personal level, but know that when it’s necessary–cancer, end of life, when it’s really needed, then it’s not a burden. It’s a priveledge–
Ad you still have much to give.
Encouragement, humor, appreciation, family togetherness is a rare and precious gift and should not be under-ppreciated.
I feel priveledged to have children. And I know if/when I have to, we would all do our best to make it work. I’m grateful I have the option if I needed it.
There are many people who do not have children. Or their children are not able or willing to help.
No time for a pity party. Get busy! Use this as a catalyst to get busy doing just that–planning your life–for quality and purpose.
If you don’t want to live in a care facility (prematurely, and hopefully never) or with someone else–family member or not, then I (and you) better have a plan.
Note: Decide today to be okay how your life turns out–either way. Who knows what will happen?
Have you heard of the aging in place movement?
This July AARP released a new report citing that 87% of people with disabilities age 50 and older want to receive long-term care (LTC) services in their own homes.
The National Aging in Place Organization is about collaboration and education to live at home as long as possible.
Aging in Place includes building/altering your home so that you can stay there safely as long as possible.
It might also include a ramp, ample doorways and bathrooms for wheelchair accommodation, safe flooring, and even a space for live-in care. It’s up to each individual to make these arrangements to suit (by anticipating) their needs. This term is also loosely used to help individuals begin to plan for their future in terms of how and where they want to live as life progresses.
Aging in place might even include moving so that you are living in an area where retirement and aging is not only enjoyable, but that you also have ample resources within your community for the care you might need.
Or…it might include living close enough to your adult children so that they can easily check on you and manage your care without having to live with you. ( I know of three families in our neighborhood whose mothers/parents also live in another house in the neighborhood).
Recently, after Tropical Storm Faye, I saw one of the son-in-laws picking up debris out of his mother-in-law’s yard. At least he didn’t have to drive an hour or two to do this little chore–or worry about someone charging her an exorbitant price for a job that took less than an hour.
How to Arrange Your Life So That You Can Live at Home Longer:
(consider one or more of the following suggestions)
- Move your bedroom on the first/main floor
- Do a computer search or call your council on aging and get a list of all your community’s resources now. Don’t wait until you need help to start this process.
- Consider redoing your main bath to accommodate a wheelchair/walker–and make your shower easy to get in and out of
- If your spouse has passed away, consider a roommate. Finish a garage or basement if you’d like it to be more private and separate. This $10-20,000 investment (if it’s done well) could give you added years at home–you could even trade rent for care.
- Be sure that if you choose to do this that you both sign a contract for renting, you get driver’s license info, run a background check and never ever give them access or personal/financial information.
- Even though there are risks involved, having someone live with you or on your property can provide a certain sense of security, companionship, and allow you to stay home much longer than living alone.
- Consider an alarm system if you feel you live in an area where you’re vulnerable to break-ins. Check with your local police to see if this is a common occurance. Elders can be targets for easy crimes.
- Don’t blab to every cable and lawn guy that you live alone. Always act like your son/nephew is in the house, coming home, on the phone. Even if you don’t have one–never let others think you’re always alone. Don’t be an easy target!
- Consider “the button,” a moniteringdeviceyou wear in case you fall. There are systems that will call and check on you morning and night (of course, you pay extra for this), but it might give you and those who love you a peace of mind to know that you can call for help at any time.
- Wear the thing! My mom was terrible about leaving it on a piece of clothing she wasn’t wearing, forgetting where it was–and caregivers, family members–if your loved one has memory loss, this may not help them. They won’t necessarily remember they have “the button” on, or even what it’s for!
- Get rid of clutter now! Clutter can cause you to fall and gets to be a real hassle for those caring for you. Don’t leave this to your family to do later–give those sentimental items to your family members now so that you can see the joy on their face when they use their grandmother’s dishes or wear a family heirloom piece of jewelry
- Gather all your important documents–insurance info, cards, prescriptions, life insurance, house insurance and living will. Place these items in a portable box and let your loved ones know where it is–for easy access.
- Do that living will now–don’t make your loved ones have to guess or fight over whether you’d want to be put on a ventilator or not. Be clear. Make several copies and give them to all the important peopel–one for you, your main doctor, the hospital you’re likely to go to, and one or two loved ones/guardians who would get to you quickly in times of emergency.
- Get a recliner chair that can lift you out easily (consider this your next purchase when the current chair needs to be replaced)
- Eventually consider a bed that is motorized–this added expense really helps if you have back problems and can sometimes be covered on insurance
- Place tread on any slick floors inside or outside your house to avoid slipping
- Remove any throw rugs that might trip you–(you may need to do this later or if you tend to shuffle)
- Begin to think about your options if/when you can no longer drive–is there a senior van in your area? Friends/neighbors who you can ride with or will pick up a few items for you? Even consider a taxi–most areas have taxis (even if you’ve never used one in your area before, they’re probably there). Don’t sit at home and waste away–even if your eyes or your coordination begin to wane, you can still get out and enjoy life.
- Continue to be a part of your local church/temple. Make friends–you need them, and they need you! Churches and community organizations are there to help. Let them. Helping others make us feel good–don’t be so stubborn and independent that you don’t allow someone else to give and feel good. If someone is willing to pick you up to take you to Sunday School or choir practice–let them~ You still get to go to an activity (which is good for you), and they feel like they’ve helped someone. Win-win.
- Get to know your neighbors. You can all keep an eye on each other. Be nice to the kids in your neighborhood–they can rake your leaves or bring you the mail. Most children and even teens long for a grandparent and don’t get to see theirs enough. Wave! Smile, get to know their moms and dads so they trust you. Bake a cake and take it to them. Cultivate relationships. Old-fashioned neighborliness and friendship never grows old and is never out of style.
- Choose where you want to pass away. Hospice offers you the choice to spend your last few months/weeks/days at home and can offer palliative care (pain management). Most people choose to be in their own home and to surrounded by those they love.
- Hospice means that you have a life-limiting condition with a diagnosis or a year or less to live. Don’t wait until the last minute–ask for hospice. Anyone can refer you to hospice (including yourself or your physician). Also know that many cities have more than one hospice with varying levels of care and options. Check them out to see what’s available to you.
Bottom line:
Plan now. If you’re over 50, then you better start planning. Having a 401K isn’t enough. It doesn’t take care of the details and quality of life–and money won’t fix everything.
Adapt your house to suit your aging needs.
If it’s not too late, and you need to, move closer to family so that it’s not hard for them to drop by and check on you.
And…or…live in a community that is “elder friendly,” with lots of resources.
Stay involved with people. Accept their help. Give back any way you can. A smile, a hug, homemade cookies will get you lots of friends. Neighbors are important. Do more than wave. You might need them one day.
Stay/get involved in church and other community activities. The more plugged in you are, the more people you have in your life, the more your mind/body stays active. Staying active will keep you at home.
No longer driving is not the end of the world. Figure out how to make it work–taxi, community van, church members/neighbors.
Consider a roommate or a family member living arrangement. Just be safe, sign a contract, and do a background check. ( I know of several nieces/nephews who are young and starting out in life by sharing a house with an aunt or grandmother).
Get help when you need it–hiring day-time care is cheaper than a care facility. There are many great companies such as Comfort Keepers who are licensed, bonded, flexible and reasonable–usually less than $20.00 an hour.
Keep a positive outlook on life!
Smile, see the good, and find ways to give and receive love.
Carol D. O’Dell, and I’m a family advisor on Caring.com.
Check out my book, Mothering Mother: A Daughter’s Humorous and Heartbreaking Memoir, available on Amazon, other online stores and in bookstores. Kunati Publishing
My syndicated blog appears on www.opentohope/caregivers.com