tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26702983291638101722024-03-19T05:01:38.953-07:00DINKSweet Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15614958513434632328noreply@blogger.comBlogger94125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2670298329163810172.post-85564192241708194812014-10-06T14:25:00.000-07:002014-10-06T14:25:23.507-07:00Day to DayI've been a little remiss about blogging lately. Truth is that Mom's life has become so entwined with our life that it's easy to forget to take photos of the moments. Here's a few that were taken during July, August and September.<br />
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This is the day that the Lord has made.<br />We will rejoice and be glad in it.</div>
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Psalm 118:24</div>
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<br />Sweet Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15614958513434632328noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2670298329163810172.post-44184258327295819812014-06-27T08:28:00.004-07:002014-06-27T08:29:50.956-07:00Moody BeautyIt's been a busy week on the bayou, playing "catch up" after being away for a week. Not complaining, just stating a fact. . .
It seems that Mom and my sister did very well while we were away. My sister also reported that Boudxy was a "very good and smart boy". Extra treats for Boudxy!!
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While we were away Mom had to miss her weekly hair appointment - that's happened once before and didn't seem to be a big deal. This time it WAS a big deal. She refused to go to church Sunday because of her hair. I understand that, however during the entire weekend she was very withdrawn. I suspected perhaps she was angry that we had not taken her with us on vacation. I talked with her and tried to "draw her out". She didn't seem angry. Hmmm? Then on Monday she refused to come to the table for dinner, saying "I look awful and don't want to leave my room". It was her hair that was causing all the angst. I brought her dinner to her on a tray, but explained that after her hair appnt on Thursday we'd need to go back to eating dinner with the family.
Yesterday was "Beauty Shop Day". Afterwards we went to lunch, then for ice cream, and on to the Library. She looks beautiful and seems right back on track. Problem solved.<br />
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How we look really affects how we feel.<br />
I've always felt that way.<br />
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<b> Do you think our appearance factors into our mood? </b></div>
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<b>What say ye?
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Sweet Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15614958513434632328noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2670298329163810172.post-15008690158526974962014-06-03T08:20:00.000-07:002014-06-03T08:20:26.868-07:00May Rewind.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Lunch "Out".</div>
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Mother's Day</div>
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Library Day.</div>
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Off to the Movie - "God Isn't Dead"</div>
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Movie Day, "The Other Woman".</div>
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Shopping</div>
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Movie Day, "Draft Day".</div>
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<br />Sweet Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15614958513434632328noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2670298329163810172.post-65020817971684926682014-05-18T21:09:00.000-07:002014-05-18T21:09:07.756-07:00Thief.<br />
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Last week was my sister's birthday.<br />It came and went and Mom had know idea.<br />
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We always had birthday parties when my sister and I were kids. The neighbor kids were invited along with a few friends from church and school. Birthday cakes (homemade, of course), "Pin the Tail on the Donkey", and then the opening of presents - it was all quite exciting to us. I remember Mom making little favor baskets by cutting Dixie cups a certain way then filling them with candy for our guests to take home. Lots of photos were taken with the big-flashbulb-Kodak-camera to mark these special times. Nothing was pre-packaged or ordered. Everything was made, by hand, by Mom. Sweet, happy, simple times...<br />
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She could never have imagined there would come a day when she could no longer remember the day she birthed her two babies.<br />
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Dementia is a Thief.Sweet Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15614958513434632328noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2670298329163810172.post-6093426788265262682014-05-13T20:21:00.000-07:002014-05-15T15:05:17.283-07:00Diamonds and Stones<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b><span style="font-family: "Bradley Hand ITC"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">"Some
days are diamonds some days are stones</span></b></div>
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<b><b><span style="font-family: "Bradley Hand ITC"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Sometimes the hard times won't leave me alone</span></b></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Bradley Hand ITC"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Sometimes a cold wind blows a chill in my bones</span></b></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Some days are diamonds some days are stones."</span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"> ~John Denver</span></b></div>
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It seems we've had so many, blessed, good days with Mom that sometimes I forget that ultimately we're fighting a losing battle. Dementia/Alz always wins. There is no cure. But there is a lot to say for the medicines that can work their God-given magic for a very long time.<br />
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Today Mom was "out of sorts". These days happen occasionally and when they do I'm reminded once again of the challenges she faces...<br />
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Instead of getting dressed and readied for the day she remained in her pj's far longer than usual. Once I went into her room and she was sitting in her chair simply running her fingers back and forth through her hair. She had a distant look in her eyes but her conversation was right on track.<br />
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Later I went back into her room and she was sitting staring blankly, still wearing her pj's. Normally she would have been fully dressed and reading a book. <i>She's still an avid reader</i>. . .So I suggested to her that we go a movie. She agreed. This spurred her to take a shower and ready herself for going out. <br />
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The movie outing was good. She enjoyed the movie. She seemed much more "in tune" after being out. <br />
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There is a lot to be said for mental stimulation. <br />
Last weekend I was out of town and Mom was indoors the entire time I was gone. She was cared for, but not really mentally challenged or stimulated. I feel today was the result of that.<br />
It's the biggest challenge I face right now with caring for Mom and helping her to be at her best. Sweet Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15614958513434632328noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2670298329163810172.post-28680076307399397612014-04-30T13:44:00.001-07:002014-04-30T13:44:30.244-07:00April Rewind<br />
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Mom's new Fella at the Mexican restaurant.</div>
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Movie Day!</div>
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Flower shopping.</div>
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Easter crafting.</div>
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Lunch outside "picnic style".</div>
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Easter Sunday</div>
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4-20-2014<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnNlzlWQxHGVCnRjFMGW-O4Kbq7LSaOGHB7-DKUIE1qp8vLEzOojgN4ieo8lSUJfTJfNbQGGZ-rwg4rPl7Dile5VKTT8kJrtuqnNJsSgaaiAD2vAJ21lkS8BuJYdZpbt7FPniIq3qgq5LD/s1600/MomAFB.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnNlzlWQxHGVCnRjFMGW-O4Kbq7LSaOGHB7-DKUIE1qp8vLEzOojgN4ieo8lSUJfTJfNbQGGZ-rwg4rPl7Dile5VKTT8kJrtuqnNJsSgaaiAD2vAJ21lkS8BuJYdZpbt7FPniIq3qgq5LD/s1600/MomAFB.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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Barksdale AFB air show.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYwOZE0UlkyMvP6P0MbB3kovW2gX9DV-jedQWmIj46vydMXnMpb3vGYXYQjMceewkuJKExMU8qT0ySoCqJO8GVVO6K3oOS4gwny9FXrtwkjMLm-IoIwxVhK4ndVZQS91QAaBQBW72Q8RzL/s1600/roses2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYwOZE0UlkyMvP6P0MbB3kovW2gX9DV-jedQWmIj46vydMXnMpb3vGYXYQjMceewkuJKExMU8qT0ySoCqJO8GVVO6K3oOS4gwny9FXrtwkjMLm-IoIwxVhK4ndVZQS91QAaBQBW72Q8RzL/s1600/roses2.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a><br />Picked some roses from my garden today</div>
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and gave them to Mom as a bouquet<br />for her room. I thought she'd like it.<br />But who knew she'd absolute<br />LOVE it?!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUtFUC4K392GiUFH5-DvnBkavgaX55nS438-ayIQNLDton9o8KHi-rnYWvr9l-R7qvYh-jJ2CI5MQBREOTvIkmeMYreJ2AU-cYT3e5_JhOndfIL5TnsQz5NRy2T8QokJdZuCYlNtXLivuZ/s1600/small+smiley.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUtFUC4K392GiUFH5-DvnBkavgaX55nS438-ayIQNLDton9o8KHi-rnYWvr9l-R7qvYh-jJ2CI5MQBREOTvIkmeMYreJ2AU-cYT3e5_JhOndfIL5TnsQz5NRy2T8QokJdZuCYlNtXLivuZ/s1600/small+smiley.jpg" /></a>April has been a very good month for Mom. She's content and happy which in turn makes me, content and happy too! </div>
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<br />Sweet Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15614958513434632328noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2670298329163810172.post-31983858476593172512014-04-02T13:05:00.001-07:002014-04-04T14:46:32.440-07:00March Rewind.March 2014. <br />
Rewind.<br />
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Mom, my sister and me</div>
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in Tulsa at HK's birthday party.</div>
*As a child it was always said that I looked like my Mom and my sister looked like our Dad. As the years unfold I see things changing and it seems to me that the three of us are all beginning to resemble (I'm in the solid red.). <span style="text-align: center;">Interesting observation.</span><br />
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Mom with her oldest grandson (my son).</div>
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Taken in Natchitoches, LA on a Day Trip.</div>
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Mom with grandson and his wife.</div>
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Taken while they were in LA visiting.</div>
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(They live in WA state.)</div>
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Mom playing with HK</div>
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while riding in the car.</div>
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It's been a month of of going & doing.</div>
Mom has even exceeded my expectations of what she was able to do during the month. She travels wonderfully by car and enjoys the outings. . .Conversation is a growing obstacle for her but she enjoys being with everyone and enjoying the sights. You probably noticed in one photo she was wearing two pink blouses. Not sure what that was about, and I didn't even ask. Perhaps the outer blouse was meant to be a jacket. Not sure. Overall it's been a very good month.<br />
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<br />Sweet Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15614958513434632328noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2670298329163810172.post-17955926722044664282014-03-19T16:58:00.001-07:002014-03-19T16:58:21.640-07:00Helping the Easter Bunny<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqatt_5xBj6PJCOk627FrmhoB7ssNCCqaCGC5rhfHBj87je-8IxpEIPWtzWfHF2Hw2ZBjnX9zOnensTMCLJr5-Gw009Ij4_4aFJWnoZ4kZPNmSungDUmtSVDuK9rzQi1RRC6Szu0houxZX/s1600/IMG_2635.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqatt_5xBj6PJCOk627FrmhoB7ssNCCqaCGC5rhfHBj87je-8IxpEIPWtzWfHF2Hw2ZBjnX9zOnensTMCLJr5-Gw009Ij4_4aFJWnoZ4kZPNmSungDUmtSVDuK9rzQi1RRC6Szu0houxZX/s1600/IMG_2635.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
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I'm thinking about a craft.<br />An Easter craft that Mom can work on then take</div>
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to the Nursing Home to give away. <br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPo44pNgjKZY-T9YdBLXJATRBqUHRSN6UdvyJ9QHvNJ5_sLgMOh5QmUEiq0mc__mvDa6HAYCXp5C9kN3ChV8ZAk3do29Fm3p5M83M_GnVGAndI6ubAJBxJDqEvmsxS9wMWPm1SXvvD2bA5/s1600/Eastereggs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPo44pNgjKZY-T9YdBLXJATRBqUHRSN6UdvyJ9QHvNJ5_sLgMOh5QmUEiq0mc__mvDa6HAYCXp5C9kN3ChV8ZAk3do29Fm3p5M83M_GnVGAndI6ubAJBxJDqEvmsxS9wMWPm1SXvvD2bA5/s1600/Eastereggs.jpg" height="241" width="320" /></a><br />If this turns out to be too<br /><strike>messy, labor intense</strike>, difficult we'll scale down<br />the project and just make a few and give to some<br />children. </div>
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Mom enjoys crafts and I've not come up with anything for her to "craft" since Christmas. Gotta get back into the groove. We'll see how this goes.<br /><br />BTW, the original crafting idea suggested putting a piece of candy inside each egg, if that's too much of a problem we'll just have to eat the candy. Oh the things I'm willing to do to make this work. *wink</div>
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<br />Sweet Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15614958513434632328noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2670298329163810172.post-80775903400964848002014-03-11T17:15:00.001-07:002014-03-11T17:15:24.493-07:00A Purse by any other name would still be a purse. . .<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2yJDLhn-3pUjFjXqZdUwa1tWnbJLgbe8Va_fjfbzPkxFvSSEkI7Q_ihFK5vAiMbbkvPMpycin7BXT1WQKmLmzKiMmpJbpwr-NZ9dAzJtjwrvhqIYMo8CXQ_qGBxeIaLAnD6jTThZRaV4L/s1600/3zippers.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2yJDLhn-3pUjFjXqZdUwa1tWnbJLgbe8Va_fjfbzPkxFvSSEkI7Q_ihFK5vAiMbbkvPMpycin7BXT1WQKmLmzKiMmpJbpwr-NZ9dAzJtjwrvhqIYMo8CXQ_qGBxeIaLAnD6jTThZRaV4L/s1600/3zippers.png" height="320" width="320" /></a><br /><b>Mom's purse has become an issue.</b><br /><br />It's similar to the one above.<br />It looks just fine<br />but it's a monster when you want </div>
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to find things.</div>
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Until the onset of dementia Mom purchased a new purse almost every season.</div>
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That has changed now.</div>
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She's had the purse she's carrying <i>a very long time</i>.</div>
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I've suggested she buy a new one, but she's not the least bit interested in buying one. I would be happy to buy one for her but I KNOW she wouldn't carry it, especially since it's become sort of a "power struggle" between us. </div>
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Today we were in a store and Mom was buying candy bars. The line was long and people were becoming inpatient as she dug through all the pockets of her purse (each one having a separate zipper) to find her money. I've had a purse with lots of pockets before and it taught me to never, EVER, buy that type of purse again. I understand her dilemma. We've discussed the purse "issue" several times, but she refuses to budge.</div>
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Today, as we got back into the car to leave the store, I said, "Mom", that purse is sucky (sorry, but that was my word), you need to get a purse without all those pockets". (Yes, I was a little snippy, but not rude.)<br />
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<b>"I do NOT"</b>, she replied, shooting me an angry look.<br /><b>"It looks a lot better than that thing you carry!"</b>.<br />
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Touche'!<br />Mom still has her spunky side.<br /><b><span style="color: red;">I. LOVE. IT.<br />And I love my Mom.</span></b><br />
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<b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b>Sweet Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15614958513434632328noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2670298329163810172.post-26452945440502690152014-03-09T07:00:00.000-07:002014-03-09T07:00:00.026-07:00Birthday GiftingWe've had the fun of celebrating (my granddaughter) Mom's great granddaughter's birthday. Nothing like putting a one year old in the midst to insure it's a <b>PARTY!</b> Mom wanted to get her a gift so we headed to the toy aisle at Target. Mom welded the shopping cart and chose her gift, without any input from me. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIOqnUsjXbCUw6NVRFoXn_8j5QrzHse_gBafQ6Y1QwQSCapkfnUjwUdCxk_k5yqFxvr42JABwrKBMij2fOpsLcWDi3WbdE7F8Tck-gql1J4pje9wktkixAvQ4UtlDgrF6qHbzKZlkOLmr8/s1600/kate2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIOqnUsjXbCUw6NVRFoXn_8j5QrzHse_gBafQ6Y1QwQSCapkfnUjwUdCxk_k5yqFxvr42JABwrKBMij2fOpsLcWDi3WbdE7F8Tck-gql1J4pje9wktkixAvQ4UtlDgrF6qHbzKZlkOLmr8/s1600/kate2.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
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She did a GREAT job!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL-dt30nNN-dOiD5m__6JuwiFIBvYFjctKvv720tm3xN1uibRum1NvssNMhE-5ucdfqopMBoxEaH15vgvf0OvxGlh6YMvbUDqIuoFP19PCSX41fnYOSjmw6j34W8Bt8-EfsdoL_6gMAfxc/s1600/Kate.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL-dt30nNN-dOiD5m__6JuwiFIBvYFjctKvv720tm3xN1uibRum1NvssNMhE-5ucdfqopMBoxEaH15vgvf0OvxGlh6YMvbUDqIuoFP19PCSX41fnYOSjmw6j34W8Bt8-EfsdoL_6gMAfxc/s1600/Kate.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
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Haylee Kate LOVED it!</div>
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<br />Sweet Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15614958513434632328noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2670298329163810172.post-28020241437339039802014-02-27T07:00:00.000-08:002014-02-27T07:00:07.554-08:00Golden Years<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTZN_M9aSjnUbqjdWtGongYHh29jjXzv1_hAtn2ohQ7RgzUUoyarn1cyaNXijckNdHcfFpizVrK1WB0tauJ_aBk1zl26ubtKBIWQNj7-NaATpnt353Mz8kqnQAVHcz7ZPn54oLLIEyso_S/s1600/gold.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTZN_M9aSjnUbqjdWtGongYHh29jjXzv1_hAtn2ohQ7RgzUUoyarn1cyaNXijckNdHcfFpizVrK1WB0tauJ_aBk1zl26ubtKBIWQNj7-NaATpnt353Mz8kqnQAVHcz7ZPn54oLLIEyso_S/s1600/gold.jpg" height="265" width="400" /></a></div>
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Yesterday Mom rode with me to take Boudxy to the vet for his annual vaccinations. Since we had driven so far across town we couldn't just simply go home when we were done, so we stopped by Hobby Lobby to browse. Doncha' just love that place? We looked from one end of the store to another. Mom pushed the cart and we enjoyed our browsing. We were there a very, long time. Mom has gotten much slower with her walking, however the shopping cart gives her good stability. I made a mental note that perhaps this wasn't the best store to take her for browsing. She commented on how much she wished she could still live in her own home again. I told her I understood, and we kept on movin'. She hasn't referred to her home in a long time, but I guess seeing all the things for a home rekindled the flame again. It's really sad to see my once energetic, active Mom, slow w-a-y down. Really w-a-y down. <br />
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Sometimes the Golden Years aren't actually so "golden".</div>
Sweet Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15614958513434632328noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2670298329163810172.post-39097844799340788372014-02-14T13:38:00.002-08:002014-02-14T13:38:22.305-08:00Love remembered.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxp_t26sTyA5sb0Yzs-E3EVX1vFThgUsT6ltfvqtIo_vwg7b6YYg5V5ifogLHetfsIW27WVubtVhM7JgSMkzbgujrEhCLO4V_mMNJtOmgy-QgjhZOiallAJO7BbwFM9Ceftyll3U3zHV_D/s1600/IMG_2535.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxp_t26sTyA5sb0Yzs-E3EVX1vFThgUsT6ltfvqtIo_vwg7b6YYg5V5ifogLHetfsIW27WVubtVhM7JgSMkzbgujrEhCLO4V_mMNJtOmgy-QgjhZOiallAJO7BbwFM9Ceftyll3U3zHV_D/s1600/IMG_2535.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a><br />Sweet Valentine's from the Great Grand dolls!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLzAoNYFqwxuR_v8SQi8Wco3sXxKtl_23s2mK5uC2cW6gP9ccWvYxKX4_o7r36BJHj1kbnYPYZhjJDgf-DvTD_BC3rXOpXHkzwufzc4n0doTHp2me6RgiySLAAYttdEPpPlaAbYzWiO8Sd/s1600/IMG_2525.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLzAoNYFqwxuR_v8SQi8Wco3sXxKtl_23s2mK5uC2cW6gP9ccWvYxKX4_o7r36BJHj1kbnYPYZhjJDgf-DvTD_BC3rXOpXHkzwufzc4n0doTHp2me6RgiySLAAYttdEPpPlaAbYzWiO8Sd/s1600/IMG_2525.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
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Chocolates!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvLCMXel_qkogvVwtE8b2QajFe3k05KMqCL-RVpNptGEaDM0TfO743JoKHarYkainUTcIe2Li3FfTkGiqiviIRj446xRWM7cyuXtqOrlB8xgbNs8aLMags7DwAcr5KPC_PV4ZKNQsF2e_9/s1600/IMG_2537.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvLCMXel_qkogvVwtE8b2QajFe3k05KMqCL-RVpNptGEaDM0TfO743JoKHarYkainUTcIe2Li3FfTkGiqiviIRj446xRWM7cyuXtqOrlB8xgbNs8aLMags7DwAcr5KPC_PV4ZKNQsF2e_9/s1600/IMG_2537.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
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Teasing with her youngest Great Granddoll!</div>
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Young, Old, and in-between<br />We all thrive with LOVE!</div>
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<br />Sweet Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15614958513434632328noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2670298329163810172.post-17503701574050180122014-01-28T10:49:00.001-08:002014-01-28T11:00:14.436-08:00Once upon a time. . .<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Once upon a time, in a land not far from you, </div>
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there lived a village of people. The people of</div>
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this particular village were a little unusual, only </div>
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because they all lived together in the same house. </div>
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Here is one of their stories. . .</div>
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We were getting ready to go to church Sunday morning. I took Mom's morning pills into her. She took them then told me, very matter of factly, <b>"I had a heart attack during the night"</b>. <br />
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<i>OK.</i><br />
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She felt fine at the moment as the pain had come and gone by this time, still we felt a trip to the ER was in order. To my surprise, Mom agreed with the plan, as long as she was allowed to shower and put on her makeup before going. Agreed.<br />
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We (Mom, Me, and Lil' MaMa) spent Sunday in the ER and by sundown Mom had been nestled into her third floor room and I was settling in for the night with her. <br />
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Lil' MaMa was a lot of help by diverting Mom as I got her signed into the hospital, bringing dinner to me and also going home to pack a bag to bring back to the hospital for me. <b> Sometimes it takes a Village</b>. Mister stepped up to care for HK, which freed Lil' MaMa to assist me, which gave me the complete independence I needed which enabled me to tend to <i>my</i> Mom. <b><span style="color: magenta;">Have I mentioned lately how much I LOVE my Village?!</span></b><br />
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Mom was in good spirits, even with the constant blood draws. The night went smoothly and by noon on Monday she had been given the all-clear to go home. All her tests had returned perfectly and it was decided her chest pain had been an episode of reflux. AND, Mom doesn't seem more confused or "set back" at all by her hospital stay, which has been an issue in the past. <br />
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By Monday evening all was once more calm and peaceful in the Village.<br />
And the people of the Village rejoiced.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii9GNt-VHCr7yxgZiK8UmuCdmszc2jlSgWdcT1YgNywYam3S8u50ocpvXWrAiB0Dj11b6Eklgxop61S9QkCbtZxpkhGJzlh8mipyDzwG3pSj_ihjFsIjqzzXGTFwUTPJkxUnONUMixGWnc/s1600/rejoice.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii9GNt-VHCr7yxgZiK8UmuCdmszc2jlSgWdcT1YgNywYam3S8u50ocpvXWrAiB0Dj11b6Eklgxop61S9QkCbtZxpkhGJzlh8mipyDzwG3pSj_ihjFsIjqzzXGTFwUTPJkxUnONUMixGWnc/s1600/rejoice.jpg" /></a></div>
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<br />Sweet Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15614958513434632328noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2670298329163810172.post-22652841856348395442014-01-13T15:17:00.000-08:002014-01-13T15:17:15.588-08:00"The Talk"<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu7kADo4PMjAPJcaCBwFCu2645GjmOwsHBaXnQDTBhSFH4I_T0do_Oq8OR5HZ16dbQ_S3tjk8puXnPNjksvAgwMo0gU_3eusiL5onFbd3ONkjH_Frb3IaXiF_Ercn0b6NuKSVsdCUz2lfC/s1600/cane.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu7kADo4PMjAPJcaCBwFCu2645GjmOwsHBaXnQDTBhSFH4I_T0do_Oq8OR5HZ16dbQ_S3tjk8puXnPNjksvAgwMo0gU_3eusiL5onFbd3ONkjH_Frb3IaXiF_Ercn0b6NuKSVsdCUz2lfC/s1600/cane.jpg" /></a></div>
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I had been waiting for the perfect time to broach the subject. I knew we needed to have "The Talk". The time was right, so I began with full energy, "Mom", I said, "have you ever thought about using a cane?". I was upbeat, positive, and very matter of fact. We had just crawled into the car trying to dodge the rain that had threatened most of the day. I was fiddling with the wiper settings on the car as I asked. </div>
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She seemed a bit <strike>stunned</strike> surprised by the question.<br /><br />"Why, no", she replied, "I don't need a cane".<br />"If I needed one I would use one, but I don't need one". She had the look of someone in total disbelief. She seemed to think my question was a bit funny. The look she had was as though I had suggested she color her hair green or wear her purse upside down on her head.</div>
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"I just wondered", I said, trying to keep the conversation upbeat. "If you had wanted one I was gonna get you one. Course you wouldn't need it all the time, but I thought sometimes you might find one helpful, and if you wanted one I would be glad to get you one, you sure don't want to fall. Well, it's something you can think about and if you ever want one you be sure to let me know..." I was rambling.</div>
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The fact is that Mom has become a great deal more "wobbly" in the past few months. Her balance is off. Some days worse than others. It especially concerns me when we are out and she steps from a curb onto flat ground. I think a cane could perhaps help her avoid a fall. I WISH she would consider it when we are away from the house, but it's not gonna happen. </div>
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I think about how I would feel if I were in her place. Perhaps I would be resistant to using a cane too. Along with the aches, pains, and decline of independence, aging also brings a loss of dignity. Using a cane tells the world that one needs <i>help</i>. Without a cane the need for help remains somewhat private.</div>
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I understand.</div>
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<br />Sweet Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15614958513434632328noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2670298329163810172.post-88247846264985899812013-12-15T13:12:00.002-08:002013-12-15T13:12:42.980-08:00Christmas "smile"<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWJdv8ArzgY2plL8XiBIkWOQkPNL_OIIHZkVyDg51e_CzhqlyJuSHWXjw64XRkWMn-YxAXgqAAF1l3GH2fR0ioRfX7IO2szCLGdnfHnkfSFzlnyRlW53gFWeShxouwrLldCDeW9PRprdE8/s1600/Christmascard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWJdv8ArzgY2plL8XiBIkWOQkPNL_OIIHZkVyDg51e_CzhqlyJuSHWXjw64XRkWMn-YxAXgqAAF1l3GH2fR0ioRfX7IO2szCLGdnfHnkfSFzlnyRlW53gFWeShxouwrLldCDeW9PRprdE8/s1600/Christmascard.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #37404e; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">Helping Mom get a few Christmas cards addressed then she shooed me out of the room so I couldn't see what she was writing on the inside of the cards. Hmmmmm. It could be interesting if you happen to be one of the three people on her Christmas card list. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #37404e; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">This makes me smile just to think about it.</span></span>Sweet Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15614958513434632328noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2670298329163810172.post-53662456023837989472013-12-10T09:00:00.000-08:002013-12-10T09:00:00.058-08:00Where the Heart Is.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZKR0K0BWDM8ZzNwkx1-0vjE1H0Cs0seZYecVbM8xxf496jV4X6RyRXfh1rPKuj6eM_c5b_c7tnqdDAhm3V98LmSzALWa2gol4UcARmlA6Vhni_d0SG3xZ9WHAWbXmmLkgp4WBXZFFsQeP/s1600/home+is+where2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="350" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZKR0K0BWDM8ZzNwkx1-0vjE1H0Cs0seZYecVbM8xxf496jV4X6RyRXfh1rPKuj6eM_c5b_c7tnqdDAhm3V98LmSzALWa2gol4UcARmlA6Vhni_d0SG3xZ9WHAWbXmmLkgp4WBXZFFsQeP/s400/home+is+where2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Home</div>
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We come and go.<br />We paint the walls and mow the grass, and except for when it's time to make the mortgage payment we usually don't give a whole lot of thought to "home" and what it would be like if we <i>suddenly</i> didn't have our home.</div>
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Mom has a home. A nice home that she's lived in for 30+ years. Then she fell ill, and it's no longer possible for her to live in her home. It sets empty. My sister and I do the necessary maintenance and there are many who would say we should sell it, but neither of us have the heart to do so at this time. Occasionally when Mom is back in her hometown she'll want to see her home. Then there's always the question of whether it is a "help" for her or a "hindrance" to her well-being, advanced dementia being what it is, it's sometimes confusing for her. She grieves for the loss of her home. At first the grief was on-going. Now the grief seems to only rear it's head on certain days.</div>
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Last week our family went out to eat Chinese food.<br />When the waiter brought the fortune cookies at the end of the meal we all had a good laugh as we read our funny fortunes. Mom was the only one in our group who had a serious fortune cookie.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfo5aLKqesQHpuZhWO-LBLLmcQTyrH2_gHsIYEEytB8p4mMiYESuyOp9UGX6inNDoWTrR6-4Us4GAzvFzY0tzmBam_PHRqTwM3fVkG0WhlhsExnX-rB8OYHHrKL3ewKsfxZVJEc6Cm8zME/s1600/home+is+where.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfo5aLKqesQHpuZhWO-LBLLmcQTyrH2_gHsIYEEytB8p4mMiYESuyOp9UGX6inNDoWTrR6-4Us4GAzvFzY0tzmBam_PHRqTwM3fVkG0WhlhsExnX-rB8OYHHrKL3ewKsfxZVJEc6Cm8zME/s400/home+is+where.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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She read it aloud.<br />The meaning didn't seem to register.<br />But it made me very sad.</div>
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<br />Sweet Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15614958513434632328noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2670298329163810172.post-69846801114349517352013-12-06T09:00:00.000-08:002013-12-06T09:00:02.452-08:00A Bowl of "Happy"!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoClocxWpBlRF725yt7cwXlE0z_-26rTa6Rh_I2z7xiPlk2bi6daTOFNMWSyvYKqbZfnVBZD5CI5OPqeENQgw4XjbuJqE7kHDXfaMimPJDmBK-oM8kNrq0cVvN87og3s5ycabQ0vRQ6msx/s1600/nothungry.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="61" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoClocxWpBlRF725yt7cwXlE0z_-26rTa6Rh_I2z7xiPlk2bi6daTOFNMWSyvYKqbZfnVBZD5CI5OPqeENQgw4XjbuJqE7kHDXfaMimPJDmBK-oM8kNrq0cVvN87og3s5ycabQ0vRQ6msx/s320/nothungry.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Can you imagine what it would be like to<b> NEVER</b> feel hungry?<br />
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That can be one of the side effects of advanced dementia. <br />
Mom is <b>never</b> hungry. <br />
You can be sure she never turns down ice cream, but as far as being "hungry" - it doesn't happen. <br />
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Today our family stopped for fast food tacos. <br />Can you say, "Taco Bell"? [smile]<br />Mom likes tacos, so that's not the problem.<br />She told my husband not to order her anything because she <i>wasn't hungry</i>. It had been several hours since any of us had eaten anything and everyone else was hungry, except for her. He went ahead and ordered her a small taco and a glass of sweet tea. She grumbled. I told her to just eat what she wanted and leave what she didn't want. (Mom hates to see food wasted, so that fact was on our side.) <br />
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"When you get old, people just boss you around", she groused.<br />But she ate the whole thing.<br />
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She sees the doctor next week so I'll be sure to mention her declining appetite to him. Until then I'll continue to <strike>boss her around</strike> <i>coax</i> her to eat at least something at meal time. Then at bedtime I'll take her a bowl of ice cream and she'll forgive me for pushing food at her throughout the day. She needs the calories and it's a bowl of "happy" that never fails to please.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5SOgmkERMqlMm5Arl4Qy-wAptfmf_5inM4t0u6gy6DNhCwzOeX0zRqETkz6B9B2XXrdwikEUcho-KM6h2deJSiKojlcw2G9rnPz9PIz0oUXUb0qVxX9woSfZEe7hULc13z0z2XHGNeqbr/s1600/sprinkles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5SOgmkERMqlMm5Arl4Qy-wAptfmf_5inM4t0u6gy6DNhCwzOeX0zRqETkz6B9B2XXrdwikEUcho-KM6h2deJSiKojlcw2G9rnPz9PIz0oUXUb0qVxX9woSfZEe7hULc13z0z2XHGNeqbr/s1600/sprinkles.jpg" /></a></div>
When you're 84 you can eat ice cream every night at bedtime, which gives us all something to look forward to!<br />
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<br />Sweet Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15614958513434632328noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2670298329163810172.post-7110764454753223632013-11-30T15:05:00.000-08:002013-12-01T09:31:40.662-08:00Note to Self<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr3KoHfACF4ABxJMOHl4engtO95ESdwYFpH-LRkRQXRO_M9j80sKgApWxDLkL0EGfxWwCRwsf8pEkqw6zwICnAlhfeVuYwVsLh7PNZVt5slyKAfO_4JwquLR2umdSFbgHjpVufNtD8Iodx/s1600/countchange.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr3KoHfACF4ABxJMOHl4engtO95ESdwYFpH-LRkRQXRO_M9j80sKgApWxDLkL0EGfxWwCRwsf8pEkqw6zwICnAlhfeVuYwVsLh7PNZVt5slyKAfO_4JwquLR2umdSFbgHjpVufNtD8Iodx/s1600/countchange.jpg" /></a></div>
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Mom has been in Tulsa visiting with my Sister for two months. Now she is back in Louisiana with me and my family. She travels well and though she had a couple rough days previously (more about this in a later post), she has unpacked and seems quite content.<br />
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Today, as we made the 6 hour drive home, at one point we stopped for snacks. Mom, still as fiercely independent as possible, insisted on buying her own candy bar. She laid her Butterfinger candy bar on the counter and began to dig through her purse for the money to pay for her purchase. It took a bit of time to find all the loose coins, but the cashier was very patient. Then Mom began the slow process of trying to count out the correct amount of money. She fumbled. She paused. I wanted to step forward to give her a little help, but decided against it. The cashier helped her find the right combination of change and Mom accepted her assistance without hesitation. <sigh of relief> <br />
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Crisis averted.<br />
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Sometimes it's the smallest of things that make a big difference in someone's life.. <br />
Note to self: There are no "small" acts of kindness.<br />
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So good to see Mom again.Sweet Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15614958513434632328noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2670298329163810172.post-17135951214076182702013-10-17T19:04:00.000-07:002013-10-17T19:04:09.520-07:00Four Little Pumpkins All In A Row<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNjFYW_jqxEmCi8xXGAohAlLJhw9GHY63h63wnrG9v3R9HIjKC1bWEQNb0RBKrlL0PqNkseyu6SjiIZJBFQum0YlSRIbDEn4z54XPB9kyUMqWo869LMMUF810EGgf_sJOcyhajIRnWfewy/s1600/pumpkin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="318" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNjFYW_jqxEmCi8xXGAohAlLJhw9GHY63h63wnrG9v3R9HIjKC1bWEQNb0RBKrlL0PqNkseyu6SjiIZJBFQum0YlSRIbDEn4z54XPB9kyUMqWo869LMMUF810EGgf_sJOcyhajIRnWfewy/s320/pumpkin.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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My daughter shared this photo she took today.<br />Mom spent the day with her and her daughters (my Granddolls). They went to the pumpkin patch to get their pumpkins then went home to decorate them. So glad Mom is enjoying her visit in Tulsa!!</div>
<br />Sweet Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15614958513434632328noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2670298329163810172.post-51008007556533592422013-10-08T18:23:00.000-07:002013-10-08T18:23:45.265-07:00Looking Very Good!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH_XpC7pv74slnB4fw0vNuWDKX7-X3Q0vsK6LZScwND8i6Tf_XFoVt40yGOdiIU-HJtaLDX3jUDZVnimj0wNchiR6aN5MfO_zmfyDR-sKmKxnrrq11A4LttG0b1jsMblGR1sKiaF2WUgxW/s1600/IMG_2160.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH_XpC7pv74slnB4fw0vNuWDKX7-X3Q0vsK6LZScwND8i6Tf_XFoVt40yGOdiIU-HJtaLDX3jUDZVnimj0wNchiR6aN5MfO_zmfyDR-sKmKxnrrq11A4LttG0b1jsMblGR1sKiaF2WUgxW/s400/IMG_2160.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
This past weekend we celebrated our middle granddaughter's birthday.<br />
Mom enjoyed the family dinner, and though she tried to get out of the photo - there was no escaping the camera. She is seated between her two oldest great-granddaughters, and <i><b>looking very good</b></i>, I think!<br />
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We made the drive to Oklahoma for the birthday festivities. Mom is now staying with my Sister in Tulsa for a prolonged visit. She will probably be there until Thanksgiving. She told me she would miss me and think about me every day. She seemed to be a little sad that we were leaving to go back to LA, but at the same time she seemed pleased to stay and visit in Tulsa for a while.<br />
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I know this is not the life my Mom would have ever imagined, but she is doing well and most days she seems to have adjusted quite well to her "new normal". We've all come a long way since the major changes that took place last December. We're all in a far better place today, than we were back then. So very thankful!Sweet Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15614958513434632328noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2670298329163810172.post-48510280862415393362013-09-06T14:34:00.002-07:002013-09-06T14:34:18.760-07:00Drawing the line<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi0NY-cFQrnFFfX7YwD_b8xjB9wo-2BtJxcnQWn32_s7deMRoYJlB_tdgu5hkf4RniICY9WpAwCwGvQWJJEPrKjKPQOm4mlL2n3YXDuyl_nFja0sRNd8-nf4W8S_LizGGDnZjMXEnHp6B4/s1600/drawtheline.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi0NY-cFQrnFFfX7YwD_b8xjB9wo-2BtJxcnQWn32_s7deMRoYJlB_tdgu5hkf4RniICY9WpAwCwGvQWJJEPrKjKPQOm4mlL2n3YXDuyl_nFja0sRNd8-nf4W8S_LizGGDnZjMXEnHp6B4/s320/drawtheline.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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The last few days have been <strike>wild</strike> a bit stressful.</div>
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Mom has been doing so well for so long now that it is surprising when she begins to "act out" (for lack of better words). In her finest moments Mom is opinionated and wound quite tightly - that's simply her personality. No one has EVER said that Mom is a "laid back" type of person. I get that and I'm find with it. I understand that it takes all kinds of folks to make up our world. BUT, the last few days have found her VERY short-tempered, snappy, and down-right difficult. When this happens then I'm called upon to decide whether she is simply being "her self" or if her behavior is dementia related. That's where things get tricky. </div>
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It's really hard to know where to draw the line.</div>
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I <i>think</i> there has been a bit of both going on.<br />If her issues are dementia related then I'm supposed to call her neurologist. At that point he may choose to change the doses of her meds, or change the type of medications. If Mom is simply "being Mom" then it would be a mistake to have her meds changed in any manner.</div>
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Mom says she stayed awake all one night worrying about her money, which translates into "she is afraid my sister and I are stealing from her". *sigh She talks about it endlessly. I try to assure her that's not the case, then I try to "redirect". She will not be "redirected". . .She snipes. She complains. She is sure there is no one in this world who can be trusted. . .She worries that the doors are not all locked at night...She is unhappy when I talk to a neighbor while standing in the driveway (probably because he is a male). . .Then, just when I'm sure this is all dementia related, we were going into the post office and she opened the door and motioned for me to go ahead of her, saying, "See, I can be nice when I want to". . .Then after complaining non-stop while we were running errands, she is silent for a while. As we drive into the garage she says, "See, I didn't gripe at all on the way home.". These statements lead me to believe she knows full well what she's doing and saying. Yes, Mom is quite the character. I know she gets bored at times and sometimes I think the griping and acting out is simply born out of the boredom. </div>
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There again, it's hard to know where to draw the line.<br />So instead of calling the doctor, I've decided to simply continue as I've been doing, and draw that line some other day.</div>
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<br />Sweet Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15614958513434632328noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2670298329163810172.post-89933393425634330172013-08-30T07:03:00.000-07:002013-08-30T07:03:01.006-07:00This and a little that.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWV3hwpgvfJ3CV25_1aHjcQWh-VTrsbPBl7CrxjN4Up_Fe9wk5yTGtocHqUiVgk4tWU6mmTdOygwQ0DhBHLf9MYLMpH-HcB2fLzmdGUP_Lqk3Q0L41y-QUzJKSk9u_PE8CGMh6uEbsqNQZ/s1600/IMG_2029.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWV3hwpgvfJ3CV25_1aHjcQWh-VTrsbPBl7CrxjN4Up_Fe9wk5yTGtocHqUiVgk4tWU6mmTdOygwQ0DhBHLf9MYLMpH-HcB2fLzmdGUP_Lqk3Q0L41y-QUzJKSk9u_PE8CGMh6uEbsqNQZ/s400/IMG_2029.JPG" width="300" /></a><br />I bought some Fall "window clings".<br />Mom did a good job and enjoyed<br />decorating our back door using them.</div>
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I've got to share this little <i>giggle</i> with you:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8V1qiY0KoA51ZZKv1Tu8c49vrUIoObux33OVD4OrDcH414eanmd7Is1ecr4kDjXsIc8A8N_JZ8_PuTN0LwmnPbDYGLqmI9zepzlmpNqKK-EUZ_YBxgQ3jgZi0UT0uwHJsA70x-Rbvo3hc/s1600/IMG_2028.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8V1qiY0KoA51ZZKv1Tu8c49vrUIoObux33OVD4OrDcH414eanmd7Is1ecr4kDjXsIc8A8N_JZ8_PuTN0LwmnPbDYGLqmI9zepzlmpNqKK-EUZ_YBxgQ3jgZi0UT0uwHJsA70x-Rbvo3hc/s320/IMG_2028.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />I got this text from my sister who is at Mom's house cleaning out her freezer. J and I celebrated our 44th wedding anniversary last May.</div>
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I think we'll pass on the cake!</div>
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<br />Sweet Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15614958513434632328noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2670298329163810172.post-5050578083298527762013-08-21T15:30:00.002-07:002013-08-21T15:30:50.743-07:00August<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNpgPjYWQna3rkaHYcQbfp21Ca3TOSDSO50WAMTD8WTwt48YyxyOeSIR4Jxy1y2nfYSNf-_fKH-ffnTuq8MZsjjFbeDAehluviGz4A-Z_T4kPrulmnGsG4u8SgLWTFkipw14tOXlN1cw6d/s1600/august.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="117" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNpgPjYWQna3rkaHYcQbfp21Ca3TOSDSO50WAMTD8WTwt48YyxyOeSIR4Jxy1y2nfYSNf-_fKH-ffnTuq8MZsjjFbeDAehluviGz4A-Z_T4kPrulmnGsG4u8SgLWTFkipw14tOXlN1cw6d/s320/august.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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August is unfolding as a very good month for our household. We've been busy, but just enough. Mom is on a good schedule and doing very well. She is mostly happy and satisfied, and<i> leveled-out</i>. These are all things that make me smile. The only changes I have noticed is a decline in her ability to walk very far, and problems, at times, with her speech (finding words to complete her thought). These are small, occasional changes, but enough to note. </div>
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Things she enjoys -</div>
<ol>
<li>Ice Cream</li>
<li>Grandchildren</li>
<li>Books/Library visits</li>
<li>Mail</li>
<li>Blooming plants</li>
<li>Candy Bars</li>
<li>Lunch "out"</li>
</ol>
I like all these things too!<br /><br /><br />
<br />Sweet Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15614958513434632328noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2670298329163810172.post-27206136537508675802013-08-12T18:02:00.000-07:002013-08-12T18:02:00.153-07:00SpeechlessThis morning I was in the kitchen calling the Beauty Shop when Mom came in for breakfast. She smiled, as if to say "Good Morning", but instead, she sweetly said, <i>"Does Johnny know you tell other men that you love them?"</i>. Startled, I responded, "<b>What?</b>". She smilingly repeated, "<i>Does Johnny know you tell other men that you love them?"</i>. Color me "Speechless". I ended the phone call which was still ringing and hurriedly handed her her morning meds.<br />
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The rest of the day was totally uneventful.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLUWDWdrwH-I8XW1tlq9pY_oKcnF6BRDmVKTe-xSI2JkL1zEBcKkdxtRnZVcrNYQzLo02V7rjWLgQ3A-Nxa-poArdWGeTzYfLyHViVYydy8lPvXUG0QcqOvdLNDE2PlRlurL5DQvycxVNj/s1600/whiterose.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLUWDWdrwH-I8XW1tlq9pY_oKcnF6BRDmVKTe-xSI2JkL1zEBcKkdxtRnZVcrNYQzLo02V7rjWLgQ3A-Nxa-poArdWGeTzYfLyHViVYydy8lPvXUG0QcqOvdLNDE2PlRlurL5DQvycxVNj/s320/whiterose.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Just a reminder to me of how very fragile our situation really is.</div>
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Sweet Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15614958513434632328noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2670298329163810172.post-30161375454534684022013-08-09T16:24:00.001-07:002013-08-09T16:24:09.351-07:00Filed under: DKITYTIOn our weekend trip we stopped by a Subway sandwich shop for lunch. Mom always insists that she pay for her own meal. I helped her order herself a Personal Pan Pizza. (I didn't know they had pizza on the menu, did you?) Then I stepped back into line to order myself a sandwich. When I noticed the line had slowed a bit I looked toward the cashier and saw that Mom was "personalizing" her pizza. Finally we were situated at a table to eat. As I unwrapped my sandwich I noticed that Mom's cheese pizza was topped with "pickles", just as she had requested. She liked it!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZX5Hhw8s-5_dynMenM2qavtU_L0BbEXKBEQw3B1yqjL5cCBaJItc8SiTJ4HfdAG59YPTl45EbRjyKL9yMaEOElhHJ2pH9HhtpbHk3VVWaogH2FoahEzbYw6HrhCJE0o-MkesMrtWtYxRD/s1600/pizza.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZX5Hhw8s-5_dynMenM2qavtU_L0BbEXKBEQw3B1yqjL5cCBaJItc8SiTJ4HfdAG59YPTl45EbRjyKL9yMaEOElhHJ2pH9HhtpbHk3VVWaogH2FoahEzbYw6HrhCJE0o-MkesMrtWtYxRD/s320/pizza.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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This memory will be filed under"<b>D</b>on't <b>K</b>nock <b>I</b>t <b>T</b>ill <b>Y</b>ou've <b>T</b>ried<b> I</b>t". </div>
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I'll make no judgment calls since I like fresh tomatoes with biscuits & gravy.</div>
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To each their own.</div>
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I appreciate you for taking the time to stop by.</div>
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Your comments are always so encouraging.<br />Thanks!</div>
Sweet Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15614958513434632328noreply@blogger.com8