This story comes to us from my 13year old daughter, Natalie.  She gladly accompanies me on our weekly dinner outing with grandma and grandpa, even though as you'll read on her post, they can't really communicate.   

My grandmother was recently diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. Because of this, her English has been deteriorating even more than it used to, and I am having a hard time understanding and communicating with her. I can no longer hope that when she speaks to me, she speaks in English. My Korean is not as limited, but not by that much. Simple things like asking how her day was became a challenge that I could not overcome without either my mom or brother as a translator. It has always been hard to talk to my grandmother and hold a conversation, but it is even harder now.

Today, I saw a presentation on moving forward. There is a need for all of us to keep moving forward with our lives no matter what complications we are given. So despite the complications and hardships that come with taking care of an Alzheimer’s patient, we need to keep moving forward and doing our best. Despite the complications and hardships of not being able to communicate very well, we need to try our hardest. Despite the complications and hardships of forgetting things easily, we still need to move on and do our best with life.

Life has complications, and that is a fact. What is also a fact is that we can still keep on going and live it to the fullest. 

I’ve decided to move forward and express myself to my grandmother with art. For Mother’s Day, I drew her a card. Because pictures are easy to comprehend (at least, mine are) and face no barrier of language, I can now express my feelings towards her.

This story comes to us from Cheryl Freeman, a lovely blonde lady and a super woman. 

"Just look at this wrinkledy skin," my 83 year old mother-in-law says. "I must be getting old." "That isn't old skin," I tell her. "It is just now getting comfortable." We have this same converstation several times a week. Sometimes we have it several times a day. Each time I issue my line she says, "I have had a wonderful life with lots of friends and lots of love." She does not remember how to take a bath or shower. She has forgotten how to work the microwave or even what a microwave is. She does not remember how to cook at all. She has forgotten names and relationships but she never forgets that she is loved and that she loved in return. She has been through rosy times and stormy times but she remembers only the rosy times. She is such an encourager telling the women in her life how beautiful they are and what pretty clothes they wear even though she does not remember their names from one day to the next. She tells the men how handsome they are and is known to still flirt with a few batting her eyes and tossing her hair around. I think of her as my wrinkled three year old, funny and sweet yet impetuous and at times a bit naughty. She was diagnosed with Alzheimers 4 years ago even though looking back we realize now that her problems began about 12 years ago. I often think that perhaps she would be in a different place mentally if we had had her assessed when we first saw the problems. We contributed much of her mental fog to grief over the loss of her husband of 50 years. As a caregiver I tried to bring her mental status back to par with books, movies, games and outings but nothing seemed to help the slow decline. She is now on 2 medications and seems to be on a plateau of sorts. She is continually hiding things which for me is very stressful since she seems to be very good at this game. Today she hid her shoes. Yes, all 8 pairs. Our house is not very big but the shoes were no where to be found and we were going to be late for a doctor's appointment. She is now sporting new shoes bought on the way to the doctor's office. The hidden ones will have to wait to be found until I can take time away from my job to look for them. Life is now, to say the least, interesting.

This story is mine.  :)  Last night, we (David and I) took mom and dad out to see the movie Secretariat.  I wasn't sure how mom was going to do in a dark movie theater but when I asked her if she would like to go out for a dinner and a movie, she seemed genuinely excited about a prospect of going out for the evening.  We were a bit apprehensive at first because mom's confusion increases when the sun goes down but we decided to give this outing a try.    
Well, lucky for us, last night was a success!  

The triumphant story of courage, a winning spirit of an amazing race horse and his owner, the willpower to face challenges head-on was the underlying theme that weaved in and out of the beautiful story behind the movie Secretariat.  Interestingly mom was so grossly engaged in the movie that when Secretariat lost one of the races, she squeezed my hand and uttered sighs of sadness.  However in one of the final scenes when Secretariat magnificently finished the race, mom once again squeezed my hand and whispered over and over "yes, that's the way to go."
On the drive back home, mom talked about how inspirational the movie was, and how memorable it was for her.  Her exact words?  "I will remember this movie for a long time.  It's a very memorable story."  

Well folks, I will keep you updated from time to time to let you know whether mom remembers Secretariat, and the feeling of victory and triumph she felt while watching this movie.    

This story comes from my dad, who is taking care of my mom, an early to moderate Alzheimer's patient.
One of the typical symptoms for Alzheimer's patients is that they easily get agitated and nervous.  My mom checks her wallet every morning to see if she has any money.  If she finds that there is no money in her wallet, she gets anxious, upset and nervous.  Knowing this, my father checks her wallet before going to bed at night and always makes sure there's a $20 bill in her wallet.  Without fail, mom gets up in the morning, checks her wallet, discovers a $20bill and tells my dad, "I feel rich" and smiles.  This brings a smile to my dad, a 78 year old, ex-military officer.  :)