New Beginnings

This year, I’m taking my life back. Sounds selfish, doesn’t it?

In reality, I’m just one piece of the puzzle.

The other pieces? My husband. Our marriage. And my mother.

As primary caregiver to a mother with Alzheimer’s, I’ve given up a lot over the years. Career. Life with my husband. Friends. And I’ve given a lot. Time. Compassion. Love.

Now it’s time for a new beginning. The sensory overload of the holidays, combined with subzero temperatures and a marked decline in her abilities make it clear that mom needs more help than I can give.

I’ll move her out west, where I’ve lived for thirty-odd years. It won’t be easy, but we’ll get through it together.

Regaining my life isn’t a resolution, if I live a day at a time. Every day, I try to do a little better.

Every day, a new beginning.

3 for 3

To celebrate the holidays, we’re gifting you with reminders to take care of yourself. For the next 3 days, it’s all about you!

As caregivers ourselves, we know you’re pressed for time. You want to give those you take care of a joyful experience. Relive past holiday traditions with loved ones, if only momentary glimpses. Emotions run high. You’re stressed. Your patience is wearing thin. You know you have to take care of yourself first, but you’ve got conflicting priorities.

Giving your best to others begins with the gift of self-care.

Today’s Gift: Top 3 Websites for Self Care

* Start your day with a 3 minute Morning Meditation

* Clear your day with an 8 minute Evening Meditation

* Calm your days with a Free Mindfulness Course

The Taking Care Flash Blog is a different take on caregiving. With a slight twist on the standard 140-character tweets, I honor the caregiver’s need for a quick fix — every post is 140 words or less.

Old Familiar Carols

Thanksgiving is over, Black Friday a distant memory. Christmas lights twinkle along the block. Holiday season is here.

You have a week of respite before returning to Alzheimer’s World, the world that needs no advent calendar to mark the season’s frenzied restlessness, the world where family Christmas traditions have long been forgotten.

You’ll be home for the holidays with your mother. You have high hopes. Your mind is a flurry of ideas: decorations and cookies, carols and cards.

You’ll decorate the tree. The spruce once cut from the woods is now artificial; she doesn’t notice. You’ll bake the popovers she made every Christmas morning; she loves this “new” recipe.

You’ll fill stockings. Help wrap gifts because last year, Scotch tape induced panic attacks. You’ll be home for the holidays, on a one-way ticket. You’ll be home because she’s your mother.