tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17742914801704178162024-03-05T08:35:39.203-08:00Dementia-Mama-DramaVin @ Dementia-Mama-Dramahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06190736738357356959noreply@blogger.comBlogger114125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1774291480170417816.post-41431626636098630742023-10-30T17:11:00.001-07:002023-10-30T17:25:47.618-07:00A Caregiver's Nightmare <span style="color: #351c75; font-family: courier;"><b>I woke up in a sweat startled from a terrifying nightmare. Believe it or not I still dream about Mama and sometimes the dreams are not always pleasant, this was one of them. Many times they are anxiety dreams that I didn't visit her or that I forgot to call her. Even though it's been years since Mama has passed, I still have these dreams and I know many caregivers probably do too. This particular dream was bizarre and disturbing.</b></span><div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgSIvgOuewHNEFFv6fvAftW_AD-_3dfwgVhpjh8SX4Tk79YvtCFlgR2V6YPnjNpmHnk_xcZjHLgJXQMlzoa23_v9qNIPS7QB2Y9rAg1080aMvP5vdKvyOudU4Tsd-ASEnZqwf-hND4IxJMU4wZar_V_aWcUtQb9gb3kpAVM80YFEt7DnE6hE0rwYeqb8Ro" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="415" data-original-width="600" height="276" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgSIvgOuewHNEFFv6fvAftW_AD-_3dfwgVhpjh8SX4Tk79YvtCFlgR2V6YPnjNpmHnk_xcZjHLgJXQMlzoa23_v9qNIPS7QB2Y9rAg1080aMvP5vdKvyOudU4Tsd-ASEnZqwf-hND4IxJMU4wZar_V_aWcUtQb9gb3kpAVM80YFEt7DnE6hE0rwYeqb8Ro=w400-h276" width="400" /></a></div><br /></div><b><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="color: #351c75;">
Mama was in the hospital once again, but only this time there were many family members in the room around her bed. Spoiler alert, family <i>never</i> visited her in the hospital, and only rarely in the nursing home. Everyone was talking very loudly at the same time. They all wanted to tell me what I should be doing for Mama. It reminded me of our family holiday dinners around the table, but not in a good way! The distorted voices were chaotic and frenzied. All of their movements were in slow motion. I couldn't get a word in, which was very unusual for me. Nobody could hear me as I tried to speak. I screamed "I make the decisions, I'm the one that's always here. Where were you all when I needed you?" But no one heard.</span></span></b></div><div><br /><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg0kC0TxBmA7xmD_O822j19HFlSRdy6UKmRhXQMB2Z8U3S1CGf4isqH1BUX_lXbBMUeag3hNVbaQTR1YiOecxYvG0nDrnn-62Vl9wMnxJSwUqGbP4JOVN3xkG7yXZ9ouykZ1lgVnozFwJWuKaeFvNBkX0dse1sPUuWfnwjIrSp7H68n08LGmdNW8tM8GCE" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2988" data-original-width="3863" height="310" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg0kC0TxBmA7xmD_O822j19HFlSRdy6UKmRhXQMB2Z8U3S1CGf4isqH1BUX_lXbBMUeag3hNVbaQTR1YiOecxYvG0nDrnn-62Vl9wMnxJSwUqGbP4JOVN3xkG7yXZ9ouykZ1lgVnozFwJWuKaeFvNBkX0dse1sPUuWfnwjIrSp7H68n08LGmdNW8tM8GCE=w400-h310" width="400" /></a></div><br /></div></div><div><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: courier;"><b>I jumped out of bed and realized it was a dream. I slowly tried to catch my breath as I wiped the sweat off of my face. I knew it was a nightmare, because in reality I made sure that my voice was always heard when it came to Mama. I know most caregivers try to listen to everyone, but believe in yourself and follow your instincts. </b></span><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: courier;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(53, 28, 117);"><b>No one knows your loved one like you do.</b></span></span></div><div><br /></div></div><blockquote style="border: medium; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><div><div><div style="text-align: left;"><b style="caret-color: rgb(53, 28, 117); color: #351c75; font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><i style="text-align: center;"><span><span><span><span><span><span><span> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span>* * *</i></b></div></div></div></blockquote><div><div><p></p><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace; font-size: 16px; text-align: left;"><b>Read more about our journey with Mama in our book </b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace; font-size: 16px; text-align: left;"><b>"Dementia-Mama-Drama" on</b></span><b style="font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace; font-size: 16px; text-align: left;"> </b><a href="https://amzn.to/2WmtRai" style="font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace; font-size: 16px; font-weight: bold; text-align: left;" target="_blank">Amazon Books</a></div><div><i style="color: #3800e0; font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;"><span style="color: purple;"><b><br /></b></span></i></div><div><i style="color: #3800e0; font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;"><span style="color: purple;"><b>You Can Also </b></span></i><i style="color: #3800e0; font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;"><span style="color: purple;"><b>Follow Us On</b></span></i></div><div><span style="color: #351c75;"><div style="color: black;"><div style="font-family: "courier new";"><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><b>Facebook:</b></span><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> </span><span style="color: blue; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: magenta;"><b><a href="http://facebook.com/Dementia.Mama.Drama" target="_blank">Dementia-Mama-Drama</a></b></span></span></div><div style="font-family: "courier new";"><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><b>Twitter:</b></span><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> </span><span style="color: blue; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: blue;"><a href="https://twitter.com/DementiaMama" target="_blank"><b>DementiaMama</b></a></span></span></div><div style="font-family: "courier new";"><div style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: #674ea7;"><b>Instagram:</b></span><span> </span><b><a href="https://www.instagram.com/dementia_mama_drama/" target="_blank">Dementia-Mama-Drama</a></b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div></div></div></span></div><b></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><span style="font-family: courier;"><b>Visit Our Shop. Click on the Link Below:</b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: magenta; font-family: courier;"><a href="http://www.cafepress.com/dementiamamadrama" target="_blank">Dementia-Mama-Drama SHOP</a></span></div><p><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p><span style="color: #4800e6; font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"></span></p><p><span style="color: #4800e6; font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"></span></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; clear: both; orphans: auto; text-align: center; widows: auto;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2WngW0MDdhw/VX5NcwPp3KI/AAAAAAAABEM/QFA_X7zKt3w/s1600/Purple%2BDMD%2BTee.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2WngW0MDdhw/VX5NcwPp3KI/AAAAAAAABEM/QFA_X7zKt3w/s200/Purple%2BDMD%2BTee.JPG" width="200" /></a></div></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>Vin @ Dementia-Mama-Dramahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06190736738357356959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1774291480170417816.post-16698472725711325212023-05-14T13:51:00.000-07:002023-05-14T13:51:14.818-07:00Everyday Was Mother's Day<p><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: courier;"><b>When I was a caregiver for Mama, everyday was Mother's Day. Like it or not, it was all about her. Whether it was doing her nails, bringing her favorite snacks, taking her out for dinner, a walk through the neighborhood, getting her hair done, making her laugh extra hard <i>or</i> just playing our nightly cards and singing... everyday was a special day.</b></span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: courier;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: courier;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvWH9ZeKBS14fuZuSDibiF6KqfJcR1mtnwzgOZdxu7_DFBUOIxQm-wtA24-N0BSMvFp54CgLaU2NNsYcj79hRKhazY7C-74_yZvH_BhwLGTm0H1L8YRQby8SiKaznU_9lEXnznagY3SDPe6lW_Z4fOphU0utvmDqiWvK6Da3jli82d_rdWoAORAgFM/s1252/Vin%20&%20Anna%20Hugging%20at%20Home%20nyc2vin.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="905" data-original-width="1252" height="231" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvWH9ZeKBS14fuZuSDibiF6KqfJcR1mtnwzgOZdxu7_DFBUOIxQm-wtA24-N0BSMvFp54CgLaU2NNsYcj79hRKhazY7C-74_yZvH_BhwLGTm0H1L8YRQby8SiKaznU_9lEXnznagY3SDPe6lW_Z4fOphU0utvmDqiWvK6Da3jli82d_rdWoAORAgFM/s320/Vin%20&%20Anna%20Hugging%20at%20Home%20nyc2vin.JPG" width="320" /></a></b></span></div><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: courier;"><b><br />I felt terrible for other mothers in the nursing home who only had their annual obligatory Mother's Day visits from their sons or daughters. It seemed as though they just didn't make the time or feel the need to keep a strong connection with their mother for the rest of the year. It made me feel sad, so whenever I'd see a mother without a visitor I'd try to engage them in small talk or at least try to make them smile. Sometimes a direct simple look into their eyes and a hello would make them smile. Mama would always get jealous whenever I did this during our nightly visits because it was our time together. She'd often say <i>"did you come to visit them or me"?</i></b></span><p></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: courier;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: courier;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLeV8um_lF1vnH9cvC7E7Za0M6TLEbVjpLxXgWXKKrsFuHv3zWwm896swFIWZ1d_urVg8iNs6ZW3y6IpO7Opx1GD8V7Vgv1xaKdSHKlCRa2nMd4Y7rbCYASRzhtnZ38v9iOUflGp4jbgoQWFCqB2TbOjxQjRt6A5etYoy5UoHZnv-eaA7yGVAW5-oL/s1320/Anna%20&%20Vin%20Washing%20Hair%20B:W%20nyc2vin.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1108" data-original-width="1320" height="269" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLeV8um_lF1vnH9cvC7E7Za0M6TLEbVjpLxXgWXKKrsFuHv3zWwm896swFIWZ1d_urVg8iNs6ZW3y6IpO7Opx1GD8V7Vgv1xaKdSHKlCRa2nMd4Y7rbCYASRzhtnZ38v9iOUflGp4jbgoQWFCqB2TbOjxQjRt6A5etYoy5UoHZnv-eaA7yGVAW5-oL/s320/Anna%20&%20Vin%20Washing%20Hair%20B:W%20nyc2vin.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: courier;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvjmxXHar5GoIH0wqVxbsZa5sHwSPJwuHSiqkP74XRFOSI3-M_MfLwUnz_JjK_N6vPXGlCXmspaSS2JqQjHLOb3PLvbIFJzfhxL4_WNNNJm4iLtYH_w0X-6mpKeKrO0jIuVhtnHc0qmlNmp407CVYaCVDfUnLOvR6bKlts94YOS8j6OxbhxsGB1JiM/s2532/Vin%20&%20Anna%20at%20IHOP%20nyc2vin.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1878" data-original-width="2532" height="237" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvjmxXHar5GoIH0wqVxbsZa5sHwSPJwuHSiqkP74XRFOSI3-M_MfLwUnz_JjK_N6vPXGlCXmspaSS2JqQjHLOb3PLvbIFJzfhxL4_WNNNJm4iLtYH_w0X-6mpKeKrO0jIuVhtnHc0qmlNmp407CVYaCVDfUnLOvR6bKlts94YOS8j6OxbhxsGB1JiM/s320/Vin%20&%20Anna%20at%20IHOP%20nyc2vin.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div></span><b style="color: #674ea7; font-family: courier;"><p><b>As a caregiver you don't have to stress or limit yourself to that one day. Any day could be that special "Mother's Day". Call her, visit her, make the time you spend together count. After all if it wasn't for your mother... you wouldn't be here.</b></p></b><p></p><p><b style="caret-color: rgb(53, 28, 117); color: #351c75; font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><i style="text-align: center;"></i></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b style="caret-color: rgb(53, 28, 117); color: #351c75; font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><i style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxQxh1km02yImUN6FatRPGvTZVVPMS-QYnSTYxnofCAR4jQWw9smiQqTDNlioxgQqUlIZdI7LpfGcc9RSN-x7MNvyPsvUqN9MNF1njryUKby52km6SjZo6vBsU5DD1rMt3vT3A60bwC3dvtZR63C0WFEy63ZJz6Ep9eP48QHNEEiN3UH8yGe9dhJJw/s1895/Vin%20and%20Anna%20Shopping%20nyc2vin.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1895" data-original-width="1895" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxQxh1km02yImUN6FatRPGvTZVVPMS-QYnSTYxnofCAR4jQWw9smiQqTDNlioxgQqUlIZdI7LpfGcc9RSN-x7MNvyPsvUqN9MNF1njryUKby52km6SjZo6vBsU5DD1rMt3vT3A60bwC3dvtZR63C0WFEy63ZJz6Ep9eP48QHNEEiN3UH8yGe9dhJJw/s320/Vin%20and%20Anna%20Shopping%20nyc2vin.JPG" width="320" /></a></i></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b style="caret-color: rgb(53, 28, 117); color: #351c75; font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><i style="text-align: center;"><br /></i></b></div><b style="caret-color: rgb(53, 28, 117); color: #351c75; font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><i style="text-align: center;"><span><span><span><span><span><span><span> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span>* * *</i></b><p></p><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace; font-size: 16px; text-align: left;"><b>Read more about our journey with Mama in our book </b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace; font-size: 16px; text-align: left;"><b>"Dementia-Mama-Drama" on</b></span><b style="font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace; font-size: 16px; text-align: left;"> </b><a href="https://amzn.to/2WmtRai" style="font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace; font-size: 16px; font-weight: bold; text-align: left;" target="_blank">Amazon Books</a></div><div><i style="color: #3800e0; font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;"><span style="color: purple;"><b><br /></b></span></i></div><div><i style="color: #3800e0; font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;"><span style="color: purple;"><b>You Can Also </b></span></i><i style="color: #3800e0; font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;"><span style="color: purple;"><b>Follow Us On</b></span></i></div><div><span style="color: #351c75;"><div style="color: black;"><div style="font-family: "courier new";"><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Facebook:</span><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> </span><span style="color: blue; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: magenta;"><b><a href="http://facebook.com/Dementia.Mama.Drama" target="_blank">Dementia-Mama-Drama</a></b></span></span></div><div style="font-family: "courier new";"><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Twitter:</span><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> </span><span style="color: blue; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: blue;"><a href="https://twitter.com/DementiaMama" target="_blank"><b>DementiaMama</b></a></span></span></div><div style="font-family: "courier new";"><div style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: #674ea7;">Instagram:</span><span> </span><b><a href="https://www.instagram.com/dementia_mama_drama/" target="_blank">Dementia-Mama-Drama</a></b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div></div></div></span></div><b></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><span style="font-family: courier;"><b>Visit Our Shop. Click on Link Below:</b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: magenta; font-family: courier;"><a href="http://www.cafepress.com/dementiamamadrama" target="_blank">Dementia-Mama-Drama SHOP</a></span></div><p><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p><span style="color: #4800e6; font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"></span></p><p><span style="color: #4800e6; font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"></span></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; clear: both; orphans: auto; text-align: center; widows: auto;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2WngW0MDdhw/VX5NcwPp3KI/AAAAAAAABEM/QFA_X7zKt3w/s1600/Purple%2BDMD%2BTee.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2WngW0MDdhw/VX5NcwPp3KI/AAAAAAAABEM/QFA_X7zKt3w/s200/Purple%2BDMD%2BTee.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>Vin @ Dementia-Mama-Dramahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06190736738357356959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1774291480170417816.post-34331674463903974822023-02-08T12:11:00.003-08:002023-02-08T12:14:24.976-08:00Mama and Her Never Ending Birthdays <p><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: courier;">I'm going down memory lane because it's that time of year... Mama's birthday. Douglass and I would always do something special for her birthday. When she was physically able to make the trip, we'd take her out to eat in a restaurant. It didn't matter where we went to eat but she always wanted Italian. If not, we'd </span><span style="caret-color: rgb(53, 28, 117); color: #351c75; font-family: courier;">bring her over to our home for a night of birthday celebration and</span><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: courier;"> cook her favorite meal - spaghetti and meatballs. We usually bought her flowers and clothes but she really loved it when we bought her <span style="caret-color: rgb(53, 28, 117);">balloons</span>. She would insist on attaching the balloons to her walker, and in later years to her wheelchair.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="color: #351c75;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #351c75;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYS9kDjNQ-wqYKUPO58NM-AxJ8jIbHfvm1Y0QE7A8ttHjaAfboyIj5LwT4DKW0MV_2EDhvtkRiisLAFH-ln1siEkAtVRCAPM9R01q1aEK-fTY1Or4Q1X0rx0j3oZgzo0piv9iutnU-a7IPJ3zwnXltm_uG_xohBXfA5-e3xxKUHV_giRpmToLkgp-Z/s2160/Anna%20and%20Vin%20Happy%20Birthday%20Balloon%20nyc2vin.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1774" data-original-width="2160" height="330" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYS9kDjNQ-wqYKUPO58NM-AxJ8jIbHfvm1Y0QE7A8ttHjaAfboyIj5LwT4DKW0MV_2EDhvtkRiisLAFH-ln1siEkAtVRCAPM9R01q1aEK-fTY1Or4Q1X0rx0j3oZgzo0piv9iutnU-a7IPJ3zwnXltm_uG_xohBXfA5-e3xxKUHV_giRpmToLkgp-Z/w400-h330/Anna%20and%20Vin%20Happy%20Birthday%20Balloon%20nyc2vin.JPG" width="400" /></a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #351c75;"><br /></span></div><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: courier;">She kept the balloons attached to her walker for weeks. She would do this for the attention and the joy of getting noticed (as if she needed more attention). She played the "birthday card" until those balloons had their last ounce of helium in them. She'd continue to get extra birthday cake for weeks from visitors and the staff because everyday was her birthday as long as she had her balloons! And if you knew Mama or have read anything about her, you know she loved her cake. </span></p><p></p><p><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: courier;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhFKIxSFvyGKgyW7nKgJTVNszyNeakPi49_wzWFPIiglR0G0ym_Owj_B76kQi3rWHg0nDsoj-zzploBcO00OEfQ1NVlps3kALImw8Bn89tYpBlyuwBmoc6h0mB7rZ1kq5Zf6fZ8YaXgCqQqILm6mOQ0Ww7a40cGd2nL38S-Wb-6yIJv7ZLkQA194V_H" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1944" data-original-width="2592" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhFKIxSFvyGKgyW7nKgJTVNszyNeakPi49_wzWFPIiglR0G0ym_Owj_B76kQi3rWHg0nDsoj-zzploBcO00OEfQ1NVlps3kALImw8Bn89tYpBlyuwBmoc6h0mB7rZ1kq5Zf6fZ8YaXgCqQqILm6mOQ0Ww7a40cGd2nL38S-Wb-6yIJv7ZLkQA194V_H=w400-h300" width="400" /></a></div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><span style="color: #351c75;"><br /><span style="font-family: courier;">Whenever I see balloons I think of Mama and her never ending birthday. It lasted as long as the balloons and the endless amount of cake. So this year Douglass and I will toast Mama again and be on the lookout for any stray balloons. We learned early on to always know your loved ones "happy place." Happy birthday, Mama.</span></span><span style="color: #4800e6; font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><p></p><div><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf3YZl_Yzp-9brMe24K5WpE1qy8HDPsElx_hn2DZ1QC7Sn8HY6As61Ks5cvJXcet8cRGJSB3YY8sMZPDR9hJcMv7mnTId7qDUAbGmSJ-Nkz22dBfA5-pxO6t3OpFzpfAl-OahM6xjib5vwiGOEOkaLuLiDJFl874xxfaIHMSfGhY8bpmEQFxKhRIsR/s1372/Anna%20with%20Birthday%20Gifts%20nyc2vin.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /><img border="0" data-original-height="1372" data-original-width="1100" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf3YZl_Yzp-9brMe24K5WpE1qy8HDPsElx_hn2DZ1QC7Sn8HY6As61Ks5cvJXcet8cRGJSB3YY8sMZPDR9hJcMv7mnTId7qDUAbGmSJ-Nkz22dBfA5-pxO6t3OpFzpfAl-OahM6xjib5vwiGOEOkaLuLiDJFl874xxfaIHMSfGhY8bpmEQFxKhRIsR/w321-h400/Anna%20with%20Birthday%20Gifts%20nyc2vin.JPG" width="321" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p><b style="caret-color: rgb(53, 28, 117); color: #351c75; font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><i>* * *</i></b></p></div><div><span style="color: #351c75;"></span><b style="font-family: courier; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: #674ea7;">Read more about our journey with Mama in our book "Dementia-Mama-Drama" on</span> <a href="https://amzn.to/2WmtRai" target="_blank">Amazon Books</a></span></b></div></b><div><i style="color: #3800e0; font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;"><span style="color: purple;"><b><br /></b></span></i></div><div><i style="color: #3800e0; font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;"><span style="color: purple;"><b>You Can Also </b></span></i><i style="color: #3800e0; font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;"><span style="color: purple;"><b>Follow Us On</b></span></i></div><div><span style="color: #351c75;"><div style="color: black;"><div style="font-family: "courier new";"><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Facebook:</span><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> </span><span style="color: blue; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: magenta;"><b><a href="http://facebook.com/Dementia.Mama.Drama" target="_blank">Dementia-Mama-Drama</a></b></span></span></div><div style="font-family: "courier new";"><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Twitter:</span><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> </span><span style="color: blue; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: blue;"><a href="https://twitter.com/DementiaMama" target="_blank"><b>DementiaMama</b></a></span></span></div><div style="font-family: "courier new";"><div style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: #674ea7;">Instagram:</span><span> </span><b><a href="https://www.instagram.com/dementia_mama_drama/" target="_blank">Dementia-Mama-Drama</a></b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div></div></div></span></div><b></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><span style="font-family: courier;"><b>Visit Our Shop. Click on Link Below:</b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: magenta; font-family: courier;"><a href="http://www.cafepress.com/dementiamamadrama" target="_blank">Dementia-Mama-Drama SHOP</a></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><p><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p><span style="color: #4800e6; font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"></span></p><p><span style="color: #4800e6; font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"></span></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; clear: both; orphans: auto; text-align: center; widows: auto;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2WngW0MDdhw/VX5NcwPp3KI/AAAAAAAABEM/QFA_X7zKt3w/s1600/Purple%2BDMD%2BTee.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2WngW0MDdhw/VX5NcwPp3KI/AAAAAAAABEM/QFA_X7zKt3w/s200/Purple%2BDMD%2BTee.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>Vin @ Dementia-Mama-Dramahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06190736738357356959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1774291480170417816.post-48015756397365298372022-12-29T16:49:00.000-08:002022-12-29T16:49:24.331-08:00My Nerves Are Shot<h4 style="font-family: courier; font-size: 16px;"><b><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><i>Over the years many people have asked me how I came up with the title "Dementia-</i></span></b><b><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><i>Mama-Drama". </i></span></b><b><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><i>Here's an excerpt from our book "Dementia-Mama-Drama" now on <a href="https://amzn.to/2WmtRai" target="_blank">Amazon Books</a> that may further fill in the blanks...</i></span></b></h4><p><span style="color: #331a73; font-family: courier;">"My nerves are shot!" You don't know how many times I heard that from my mother, one of the original drama queens. I think the first sentence I ever formed as a child was “Mommy, mommy my nerves are shot." </span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYxylfRCZG6qygKSeYpNI4uZtQsW-nEpFRmR5I-pFI3uxDgLZ4bRKMyeAwzKVqKwtPrYkn2QEoh662qERJWIKcbWxNLzZTJoHEeVMfQxEYnxzXWW3P1lmNVrfs8fL1z7I-_wgA-PjFj07jVb4F8coKu1eUmRFGYrdZCJsDN5Mf7BDEOVKcY_tOEopP/s926/9-%20Nerves%20Are%20Shot%20nyc2vin%20copy.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="697" data-original-width="926" height="301" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYxylfRCZG6qygKSeYpNI4uZtQsW-nEpFRmR5I-pFI3uxDgLZ4bRKMyeAwzKVqKwtPrYkn2QEoh662qERJWIKcbWxNLzZTJoHEeVMfQxEYnxzXWW3P1lmNVrfs8fL1z7I-_wgA-PjFj07jVb4F8coKu1eUmRFGYrdZCJsDN5Mf7BDEOVKcY_tOEopP/w400-h301/9-%20Nerves%20Are%20Shot%20nyc2vin%20copy.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><span style="color: #331a73; font-family: courier;"><p>My mother had me late in life, I was the miracle child. She would always talk about how long I made her suffer during labor. She carried me for nine long months and of course I was late (as usual). She endured twenty-seven excruciating hours in the delivery room and finally gave birth to me. Mama enjoyed telling this to anyone who would listen. That was the beginning of our story together and it explains a lot! </p></span><p></p><p><span style="color: #331a73; font-family: courier;">I’d ask her "How are you feeling tonight?" She'd say "I'm dying,” then start to feign a highly dramatic cough, throw her head back and pretend that she just died. I'd say "Ma, are you okay?" She'd sit up all proper as if nothing happened. "Whaddya mean, am I okay? My nerves are shot." That was just another typical day with Mama. </span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCWZpQ7cvPfxQ6EbBY8BAxUiHj2voHN9amti5UkapmADWERMc0J1Rp6UfYCnIX3XzVwO39oAxNRAWUL3yx0E04Nwv2gsLhF85zJUzV6zLc7RKfPjXmV6bq1jxINhNO86xOvPNyvh74rupw81gHzWuzcG6qEhET-CwftqPHfb7jJRvac-7H9fyFhwwT/s1464/10-%20B:W%20Vin%20Nerves%20Are%20Shot%20nyc2vin%20copy.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1266" data-original-width="1464" height="346" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCWZpQ7cvPfxQ6EbBY8BAxUiHj2voHN9amti5UkapmADWERMc0J1Rp6UfYCnIX3XzVwO39oAxNRAWUL3yx0E04Nwv2gsLhF85zJUzV6zLc7RKfPjXmV6bq1jxINhNO86xOvPNyvh74rupw81gHzWuzcG6qEhET-CwftqPHfb7jJRvac-7H9fyFhwwT/w400-h346/10-%20B:W%20Vin%20Nerves%20Are%20Shot%20nyc2vin%20copy.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><p></p><p><span style="color: #331a73; font-family: courier;">Over the years, when friends would ask how we were doing, I’d say “Another day, another dose of Mama Drama.” Then it clicked and we crowned Anna with the perfect title: <i>Dementia-Mama-Drama</i>.</span><span style="color: #4800e6; font-family: courier;"> </span></p><p><span style="color: #331a73; font-family: courier;">I had my own daily drama too. I had to deal with the staff at the nursing home - the doctors, the nurses, the social workers, the residents, her roommate and of course, the star... Mama. I knew every staff members name and their shift. It was a twenty-four hour job just getting the phone calls from everyone including Mama. </span></p><p><span style="color: #331a73; font-family: courier;">Well I told you how I came up with the name <i>Dementia-Mama-Drama</i>, but did I tell you that MY nerves are shot?</span><span style="color: #4800e6; font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></p><p><b style="caret-color: rgb(53, 28, 117); color: #351c75; font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><i style="text-align: center;"><span><span><span><span><span><span><span> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span>* * *</i></b></p><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b style="caret-color: rgb(53, 28, 117); color: #351c75; font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; text-align: left;"><i style="text-align: center;"><br /></i></b></div><b><div><b style="font-family: courier; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: #674ea7;">Read more about our journey with Mama in our book "Dementia-Mama-Drama" on</span> <a href="https://amzn.to/2WmtRai" target="_blank">Amazon Books</a></span></b></div></b><div><i style="color: #3800e0; font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;"><span style="color: purple;"><b>You Can Also </b></span></i><i style="color: #3800e0; font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;"><span style="color: purple;"><b>Follow Us On</b></span></i></div><div><span style="color: #351c75;"><div style="color: black;"><div style="font-family: "courier new";"><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Facebook:</span><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> </span><span style="color: blue; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: magenta;"><b><a href="http://facebook.com/Dementia.Mama.Drama" target="_blank">Dementia-Mama-Drama</a></b></span></span></div><div style="font-family: "courier new";"><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Twitter:</span><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> </span><span style="color: blue; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: blue;"><a href="https://twitter.com/DementiaMama" target="_blank"><b>DementiaMama</b></a></span></span></div><div style="font-family: "courier new";"><div style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: #674ea7;">Instagram:</span><span> </span><b><a href="https://www.instagram.com/dementia_mama_drama/" target="_blank">Dementia-Mama-Drama</a></b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div></div></div></span></div><b></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><span style="font-family: courier;"><b>Visit Our Shop. Click on Link Below:</b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: magenta; font-family: courier;"><a href="http://www.cafepress.com/dementiamamadrama" target="_blank">Dementia-Mama-Drama SHOP</a></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><p><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p><span style="color: #4800e6; font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"></span></p><p style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: -webkit-standard;"><span style="color: #4800e6; font-family: courier; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"></span></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); clear: both; color: black; font-family: -webkit-standard; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2WngW0MDdhw/VX5NcwPp3KI/AAAAAAAABEM/QFA_X7zKt3w/s1600/Purple%2BDMD%2BTee.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2WngW0MDdhw/VX5NcwPp3KI/AAAAAAAABEM/QFA_X7zKt3w/s200/Purple%2BDMD%2BTee.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="200" /></a></div>Vin @ Dementia-Mama-Dramahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06190736738357356959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1774291480170417816.post-50700461461668040082022-05-28T13:54:00.003-07:002022-05-28T13:55:43.456-07:00The Neighborhood Winemaker<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"><span style="color: #351c75;">Going through some old photos one stood out from the rest. It was a photo of mama and me having a glass of red wine. It brought back memories for me of her telling the story (many times) of her father making homemade wine down in their cellar. She would say she never loved the taste of wine back then but when we drank it, it brought back her memories of her father who she always missed.</span> </span></div><p><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhhCqkEmVlIgD4rXmdMT0_SspdmfAzcO1SKsg8wTFqcUXc9G-h6zF9yroSlYxUGheto3UhIMKmHFjKrgI4QCbPgNx3PDy665JZoU9cgS9sB_CCLx1itzpFYRRBnjF5LpS9uZ5JsYgXcS56bLztep1naMi3mpmkrgBG65o6gK35_R9Q4O3_YYWpX0Amu" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1944" data-original-width="2592" height="302" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhhCqkEmVlIgD4rXmdMT0_SspdmfAzcO1SKsg8wTFqcUXc9G-h6zF9yroSlYxUGheto3UhIMKmHFjKrgI4QCbPgNx3PDy665JZoU9cgS9sB_CCLx1itzpFYRRBnjF5LpS9uZ5JsYgXcS56bLztep1naMi3mpmkrgBG65o6gK35_R9Q4O3_YYWpX0Amu=w400-h302" width="400" /></a></span></div><p></p><p><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">It became another ritual for us to drink a little red wine with her favorite meal, spaghetti and meatballs! She'd go into detail of how my grandfather would go up and down the cellar stairs in Harlem carrying the bottles of his labor of love. She was very close to him because she was the baby of the family of thirteen and she even named me after him.</span></p><p><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">Even though Mama is gone, Douglass and I often remember Mama’s story of my grandfather making wine as we enjoy our spaghetti and meatball dinner with some red wine. We always toast Mama saying how we miss her and her stories. And I wish I could’ve met my grandfather, the neighborhood winemaker.</span></p><div dir="ltr"><div dir="auto" style="-webkit-nbsp-mode: space; line-break: after-white-space; word-wrap: break-word;"><div dir="auto" style="-webkit-nbsp-mode: space; line-break: after-white-space; word-wrap: break-word;"><b style="caret-color: rgb(53, 28, 117); color: #351c75; font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><i style="text-align: center;"><span> <span> <span> <span> <span> <span> <span> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span>* * *</i></b></div></div></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b style="caret-color: rgb(53, 28, 117); color: #351c75; font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; text-align: left;"><i style="text-align: center;"><br /></i></b></div><b><div><b style="font-family: courier; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: #674ea7;">Read more about our journey with Mama in our book "Dementia-Mama-Drama" on</span> <a href="https://amzn.to/2WmtRai" target="_blank">Amazon Books</a></span></b></div></b><div><i style="color: #3800e0; font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;"><span style="color: purple;"><b>You Can Also </b></span></i><i style="color: #3800e0; font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;"><span style="color: purple;"><b>Follow Us On</b></span></i></div><div><span style="color: #351c75;"><div style="color: black;"><div style="font-family: "courier new";"><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Facebook:</span><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> </span><span style="color: blue; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: magenta;"><b><a href="http://facebook.com/Dementia.Mama.Drama" target="_blank">Dementia-Mama-Drama</a></b></span></span></div><div style="font-family: "courier new";"><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Twitter:</span><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> </span><span style="color: blue; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: blue;"><a href="https://twitter.com/DementiaMama" target="_blank"><b>DementiaMama</b></a></span></span></div><div style="font-family: "courier new";"><div style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: #674ea7;">Instagram:</span><span> </span><b><a href="https://www.instagram.com/dementia_mama_drama/" target="_blank">Dementia-Mama-Drama</a></b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div></div></div></span></div><b></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><span style="font-family: courier;"><b>Visit Our Shop. Click on Link Below:</b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: magenta; font-family: courier;"><a href="http://www.cafepress.com/dementiamamadrama" target="_blank">Dementia-Mama-Drama SHOP</a></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><p><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2WngW0MDdhw/VX5NcwPp3KI/AAAAAAAABEM/QFA_X7zKt3w/s1600/Purple%2BDMD%2BTee.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2WngW0MDdhw/VX5NcwPp3KI/AAAAAAAABEM/QFA_X7zKt3w/s200/Purple%2BDMD%2BTee.JPG" width="200" /></a></div><p><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>Vin @ Dementia-Mama-Dramahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06190736738357356959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1774291480170417816.post-86478359160939314442022-03-31T16:03:00.005-07:002022-04-06T16:19:20.303-07:00A Kiss is Just a Kiss<div dir="ltr"><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: courier;">Since I recently moved, I was going through a few boxes of Mama’s that I kept and came across a bunch of greeting cards. Mama loved greeting cards but especially Valentine’s Day cards. After reading a few of them I started to realize how important they were to her and of the love she shared with my dad. Memories of the two of them flooded my mind and I began to remember their 40th Anniversary celebration party that I threw for them.</span></div><div dir="ltr"><div dir="auto" style="-webkit-nbsp-mode: space; line-break: after-white-space; word-wrap: break-word;"><div dir="auto" style="-webkit-nbsp-mode: space; line-break: after-white-space; word-wrap: break-word;"><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: courier;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="-webkit-nbsp-mode: space; line-break: after-white-space; word-wrap: break-word;"><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: courier;">I planned a party for a few family members and friends at their favorite neighborhood Italian restaurant. Everyone was eating and drinking and joking, there was a lot of love in the air. When it came time to cut the cake and make a toast I wanted to take a photo to commemorate their landmark anniversary. I had to tell them to kiss each other, they laughed and of course did it. I remember it very well, it was one of the first times I saw them kiss in public!</span></div><div dir="auto" style="-webkit-nbsp-mode: space; font-family: ComicSansMS; font-size: 18px; line-break: after-white-space; word-wrap: break-word;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="-webkit-nbsp-mode: space; font-family: ComicSansMS; font-size: 18px; line-break: after-white-space; word-wrap: break-word;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiNLOj82htZ-iUcgCshB1iKPAvJG3ELRWwMa27PyyqqTQ6UYxvAHUCJmZq3FMtavL1R0nMTtbb2F0q8xtGaI2p8iEEs43PwD1SS_SsC_leKD8iF5EfTo6eFKXrYJojRkXUmMRTz77LktVqK0RTm4K8SswVhG3PTR-yaYmlK96kAEPwmqAtEvmW0_XOj" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img data-original-height="416" data-original-width="416" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiNLOj82htZ-iUcgCshB1iKPAvJG3ELRWwMa27PyyqqTQ6UYxvAHUCJmZq3FMtavL1R0nMTtbb2F0q8xtGaI2p8iEEs43PwD1SS_SsC_leKD8iF5EfTo6eFKXrYJojRkXUmMRTz77LktVqK0RTm4K8SswVhG3PTR-yaYmlK96kAEPwmqAtEvmW0_XOj=w400-h400" width="400" /></a></div><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="-webkit-nbsp-mode: space; line-break: after-white-space; word-wrap: break-word;"><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: courier;">Anniversaries are full of emotions in many ways, but I never really saw my parents kiss in public. I come from an Italian background jam-packed with emotions, sometimes too many or sometimes over the top. Oddly enough my parents never showed much public display of affection. I thought this wasn’t “normal” for an Italian couple. Nevertheless they had a very special yin and yang relationship. They were always in synch and really loved each other ever since I could remember. They laughed, they played cards, they entertained company serving fabulous food... but they never kissed in public.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="-webkit-nbsp-mode: space; font-family: ComicSansMS; font-size: 18px; line-break: after-white-space; word-wrap: break-word;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="-webkit-nbsp-mode: space; font-family: ComicSansMS; font-size: 18px; line-break: after-white-space; word-wrap: break-word;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh6X4XLFpc9Q1PN7krElXl7bcYbsB62Fd_skGSu33w_NvXDxm2qU4-VKTBj-x2WIc-rK3AufwaxJFYU5pGnhgYmYhK9178fGho5EjjjY3BiFZBgpEzA3ZFl0gFAj9dgOUkwuAZr_yWNgwCWqRg0SA92nbM5CQq4a9B-fUKQ_klLsei4qcJc8mbZWaF6" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img data-original-height="911" data-original-width="712" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh6X4XLFpc9Q1PN7krElXl7bcYbsB62Fd_skGSu33w_NvXDxm2qU4-VKTBj-x2WIc-rK3AufwaxJFYU5pGnhgYmYhK9178fGho5EjjjY3BiFZBgpEzA3ZFl0gFAj9dgOUkwuAZr_yWNgwCWqRg0SA92nbM5CQq4a9B-fUKQ_klLsei4qcJc8mbZWaF6=w314-h400" width="314" /></a></div><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="-webkit-nbsp-mode: space; line-break: after-white-space; word-wrap: break-word;"><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: courier;">Mama may not have always kissed my dad but she always loved to send greeting cards. It became more challenging as she got older. On Mama’s last Valentine's Day, I remember she was still able to write out a Valentines message to me. She couldn’t get a card so it was written on a leftover napkin she had in her purse. It was heartfelt and I hold it close to me until this day. It read “ Vini you’re great, love Mom”. </span></div><div dir="auto" style="-webkit-nbsp-mode: space; line-break: after-white-space; word-wrap: break-word;"><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: courier;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="-webkit-nbsp-mode: space; line-break: after-white-space; word-wrap: break-word;"><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: courier;">I will always treasure that Valentine's "card" and when I made my parents kiss on their anniversary. Perhaps I was playing Cupid!</span><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: courier;"> </span></div><div dir="auto" style="-webkit-nbsp-mode: space; line-break: after-white-space; word-wrap: break-word;"><b style="caret-color: rgb(53, 28, 117); color: #351c75; font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><i style="text-align: center;"><br /></i></b></div><div dir="auto" style="-webkit-nbsp-mode: space; line-break: after-white-space; word-wrap: break-word;"><b style="caret-color: rgb(53, 28, 117); color: #351c75; font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><i style="text-align: center;"><span> <span> <span> <span> <span> <span> <span> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span>* * *</i></b></div></div></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b style="caret-color: rgb(53, 28, 117); color: #351c75; font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; text-align: left;"><i style="text-align: center;"><br /></i></b></div><b><div><b style="font-family: courier; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: #674ea7;">Read more about our journey with Mama in our book "Dementia-Mama-Drama" on</span> <a href="https://amzn.to/2WmtRai" target="_blank">Amazon Books</a></span></b></div></b><div><i style="color: #3800e0; font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;"><span style="color: purple;"><b>You Can Also </b></span></i><i style="color: #3800e0; font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;"><span style="color: purple;"><b>Follow Us On</b></span></i></div><div><span style="color: #351c75;"><div style="color: black;"><div style="font-family: "courier new";"><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Facebook:</span><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> </span><span style="color: blue; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: magenta;"><b><a href="http://facebook.com/Dementia.Mama.Drama" target="_blank">Dementia-Mama-Drama</a></b></span></span></div><div style="font-family: "courier new";"><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Twitter:</span><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> </span><span style="color: blue; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: blue;"><a href="https://twitter.com/DementiaMama" target="_blank"><b>DementiaMama</b></a></span></span></div><div style="font-family: "courier new";"><div style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: #674ea7;">Instagram:</span><span> </span><b><a href="https://www.instagram.com/dementia_mama_drama/" target="_blank">Dementia-Mama-Drama</a></b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div></div></div></span></div><b></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><span style="font-family: courier;"><b>Visit Our Shop. Click on Link Below:</b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: magenta; font-family: courier;"><a href="http://www.cafepress.com/dementiamamadrama" target="_blank">Dementia-Mama-Drama SHOP</a></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2WngW0MDdhw/VX5NcwPp3KI/AAAAAAAABEM/QFA_X7zKt3w/s1600/Purple%2BDMD%2BTee.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2WngW0MDdhw/VX5NcwPp3KI/AAAAAAAABEM/QFA_X7zKt3w/s200/Purple%2BDMD%2BTee.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>Vin @ Dementia-Mama-Dramahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06190736738357356959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1774291480170417816.post-72291977416733018022021-12-20T01:29:00.003-08:002021-12-20T01:29:30.504-08:00Joy and the Purple Christmas Tree<p><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="color: #351c75;">Christmas trees always put a smile on Mama's face. It didn't matter what mood she may have been in, she would see a Christmas tree and automatically light up. It was almost childlike and very contagious.</span><br /><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-atsXyKCB7r0/VnKGhs7BUeI/AAAAAAAABKg/l9c7ZniQsis/s1600/cr%2BMama%2526Vin%2BChristmas%2BTree%2B2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: courier;"><img border="0" height="295" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-atsXyKCB7r0/VnKGhs7BUeI/AAAAAAAABKg/l9c7ZniQsis/w400-h295/cr%2BMama%2526Vin%2BChristmas%2BTree%2B2.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><p><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="color: #351c75;"><span id="goog_1617334642"></span><span id="goog_1617334643"></span></span><br /><span style="color: #351c75;">I drove by Mama's old nursing home the other day. I wanted to see if the Christmas decorations were the way I remembered them and the way Mama loved them. They didn't seem as bright and cheery this year but maybe it was because Mama was gone.</span><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: courier;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dSvcskUsMfw/VnPfty-XzOI/AAAAAAAABLI/N3zWR8z2FMA/s1600/cr%2BPurpleXmasTreePICNIK.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: courier;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dSvcskUsMfw/VnPfty-XzOI/AAAAAAAABLI/N3zWR8z2FMA/w360-h400/cr%2BPurpleXmasTreePICNIK.jpg" width="360" /></span></a></div><p><span style="font-family: courier;"><br /><span style="color: #351c75;">This year I put up the little purple Christmas tree again </span><i style="color: #351c75;">(yes purple) </i><span style="color: #351c75;">the one that Mama loved to see every year at our place when we brought her over to celebrate. It still brings me joy remembering her smile and her saying <i>"only you would have a purple tree"! </i>We'd eat <i>(pasta of course) </i>play cards and sing during our Holiday celebration around that purple tree. </span>I<span style="color: #351c75;"> didn't realize it back then that we were making memories... I thought we were all just having a good time. </span><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: courier;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: courier; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yHHlgDfLO10/VnPfaqEH_vI/AAAAAAAABK8/wr9fekc-1Ak/s1600/cr%2BAnna%2B%2526%2BVin%2BChristmas%2BPurple%2BTree.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="304" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yHHlgDfLO10/VnPfaqEH_vI/AAAAAAAABK8/wr9fekc-1Ak/w400-h304/cr%2BAnna%2B%2526%2BVin%2BChristmas%2BPurple%2BTree.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b style="caret-color: rgb(53, 28, 117); color: #351c75; font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; text-align: left;"><i style="text-align: center;"><br /></i></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b style="caret-color: rgb(53, 28, 117); color: #351c75; font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; text-align: left;"><i style="text-align: center;">* * *</i></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b style="caret-color: rgb(53, 28, 117); color: #351c75; font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; text-align: left;"><i style="text-align: center;"><br /></i></b></div><b><div><b style="font-family: courier; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: #674ea7;">Read more about our journey with Mama in our book "Dementia-Mama-Drama" on</span> <a href="https://amzn.to/2WmtRai" target="_blank">Amazon Books</a></span></b></div></b><div><i style="color: #3800e0; font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;"><span style="color: purple;"><b>You Can Also </b></span></i><i style="color: #3800e0; font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;"><span style="color: purple;"><b>Follow Us On</b></span></i></div><div><span style="color: #351c75;"><div style="color: black;"><div style="font-family: "courier new";"><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Facebook:</span><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> </span><span style="color: blue; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: magenta;"><b><a href="http://facebook.com/Dementia.Mama.Drama" target="_blank">Dementia-Mama-Drama</a></b></span></span></div><div style="font-family: "courier new";"><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Twitter:</span><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> </span><span style="color: blue; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: blue;"><a href="https://twitter.com/DementiaMama" target="_blank"><b>DementiaMama</b></a></span></span></div><div style="font-family: "courier new";"><div style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: #674ea7;">Instagram:</span><span> </span><b><a href="https://www.instagram.com/dementia_mama_drama/" target="_blank">Dementia-Mama-Drama</a></b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div></div></div></span></div><b></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><span style="font-family: courier;"><b>Visit Our Shop. Click on Link Below:</b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: magenta; font-family: courier;"><a href="http://www.cafepress.com/dementiamamadrama" target="_blank">Dementia-Mama-Drama SHOP</a></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2WngW0MDdhw/VX5NcwPp3KI/AAAAAAAABEM/QFA_X7zKt3w/s1600/Purple%2BDMD%2BTee.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2WngW0MDdhw/VX5NcwPp3KI/AAAAAAAABEM/QFA_X7zKt3w/s200/Purple%2BDMD%2BTee.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>Vin @ Dementia-Mama-Dramahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06190736738357356959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1774291480170417816.post-28397419373097370702021-07-29T15:47:00.001-07:002021-07-29T15:48:42.552-07:00Elephants Never Forget<p><b style="font-family: courier; font-size: 16px;"><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><i><span> </span>Many people over the years have asked me why was I so protective of my mother and why I took the drivers seat in the role of caregiving. The answer for me was simple, I put myself in her place and I felt complete empathy. </i></span></b></p><h4 style="font-family: courier; font-size: 16px;"><b><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><i><span> </span>Here's an excerpt from our book "Dementia-Mama-Drama" now on <a href="https://amzn.to/2WmtRai" target="_blank">Amazon Books</a> that may further fill in the blanks.</i></span></b></h4><p><b><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: courier;"><span> </span>Elephants never forget, but people do. Like Mama, some people get Alzheimer’s. </span></b></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: courier;"></span></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: courier;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UyMCgRQhu8c/YQEd8vIC5EI/AAAAAAAABnQ/qPaqMSfQN_EWwdsdNsukBOJmHjncu_MkgCNcBGAsYHQ/s435/Vinayaka%2B-%2BGanesh.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="435" data-original-width="350" height="200" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UyMCgRQhu8c/YQEd8vIC5EI/AAAAAAAABnQ/qPaqMSfQN_EWwdsdNsukBOJmHjncu_MkgCNcBGAsYHQ/w161-h200/Vinayaka%2B-%2BGanesh.jpeg" width="161" /></a></span></b></div><b><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: courier;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I enjoyed Yoga for many years and decided to study and get my degree so I could also teach. The concept of mind, body and spirit is important and helpful. I received two degrees in Yoga, the second one being in “gentle yoga” to help Mama and others like her. When you graduate and become certified, the instructors and Swamis assign you a spiritual name. The name is carefully selected for you based on their understanding of your overall persona. Most students use it when they start teaching. The name given to me was Vinayaka and I loved it.</span></b><div><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: courier;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(53, 28, 117);"><b><br /></b></span></span>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: courier;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Vinayaka is a man with an elephants head and he symbolizes overcoming obstacles and was the protector of his mother. How perfect, that was my life story - overcoming obstacles was my middle name! I had obstacles every day when I was a caregiver for Mama. I was very attached to my chosen name. Vinayaka is also another name for Ganesh, a sacred deity. Many people said I was a saint when I was a caregiver, but I just did what came naturally. I learned to overcome many obstacles and was the protector of Mama up until the very end. Maybe it was all something that was just meant to be. Cosmic, Kharmic... call it what you want. </span></b></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><b><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: courier; white-space: pre;"> </span></b></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: courier;"></span></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: courier;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjynx5C4_g0FLdp1DyNOMZT2g8h51jdNgJgSaYWAPhIjotZLTvgDbFWpF6hbjzrN17v-33yEJz1424f8a6QQKaYv-VAPeGzuvu8jdJFStF1KQuRVkCx49Fw7huoWRPROokrpPVtIzGfls/s736/Anna+Exercises+in+Garden+nyc2vin.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="736" data-original-width="715" height="307" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjynx5C4_g0FLdp1DyNOMZT2g8h51jdNgJgSaYWAPhIjotZLTvgDbFWpF6hbjzrN17v-33yEJz1424f8a6QQKaYv-VAPeGzuvu8jdJFStF1KQuRVkCx49Fw7huoWRPROokrpPVtIzGfls/w298-h307/Anna+Exercises+in+Garden+nyc2vin.png" width="298" /></a></span></b></div><b><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: courier;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>During our nightly exercises with Mama I'd add some Yoga exercises to the mix. It was like when a parent would sneak some vegetables into the meal. I’d add three part breathing, gentle basic poses and sometimes we'd chant the Yogic “OM” mantra. She was a trooper and did the exercises even though she usually didn’t want to do them. </span></b>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: courier;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Mama always got a kick out of the chanting because she loved to sing. She preferred show tunes, but who wouldn't? She didn’t know what she was chanting and it always made her laugh. Her laugh was contagious and the three of us couldn't stop laughing. Laughter is one of the things that always helped us overcome our obstacles and that's what this "elephant" will never forget.</span></b></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: courier;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qDSsEathr6M/YQEgJfNxkXI/AAAAAAAABng/tVHZOk7fosEXRY-SSAXeHCRuwAlHkGNHgCNcBGAsYHQ/s932/Mama%2BOm%2BTee%2BShirt%2B%2526%2BGlasses%2Bnyc2vin.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="932" data-original-width="714" height="428" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qDSsEathr6M/YQEgJfNxkXI/AAAAAAAABng/tVHZOk7fosEXRY-SSAXeHCRuwAlHkGNHgCNcBGAsYHQ/w328-h428/Mama%2BOm%2BTee%2BShirt%2B%2526%2BGlasses%2Bnyc2vin.jpg" width="328" /></a></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b style="caret-color: rgb(53, 28, 117); color: #351c75; font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; text-align: left;"><i style="text-align: center;">* * *</i></b></div><b><div><b style="font-family: courier; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: #674ea7;">Read more about our journey with Mama in our book "Dementia-Mama-Drama" on</span> <a href="https://amzn.to/2WmtRai" target="_blank">Amazon Books</a></span></b></div></b><div><i style="color: #3800e0; font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;"><span style="color: purple;"><b>You Can Also </b></span></i><i style="color: #3800e0; font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;"><span style="color: purple;"><b>Follow Us On</b></span></i></div><div><span style="color: #351c75;"><div style="color: black;"><div style="font-family: "courier new";"><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Facebook:</span><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> </span><span style="color: blue; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: magenta;"><b><a href="http://facebook.com/Dementia.Mama.Drama" target="_blank">Dementia-Mama-Drama</a></b></span></span></div><div style="font-family: "courier new";"><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Twitter:</span><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> </span><span style="color: blue; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: blue;"><a href="https://twitter.com/DementiaMama" target="_blank"><b>DementiaMama</b></a></span></span></div><div style="font-family: "courier new";"><div style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: #674ea7;">Instagram:</span><span> </span><b><a href="https://www.instagram.com/dementia_mama_drama/" target="_blank">Dementia-Mama-Drama</a></b></span></div></div></div></span></div><b><span style="font-family: courier;"><br /></span></b><p></p></div>Vin @ Dementia-Mama-Dramahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06190736738357356959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1774291480170417816.post-23364671769563697502021-05-31T23:31:00.002-07:002021-05-31T23:47:47.995-07:00Anniversary Of Our Book - What A Year<p><b style="caret-color: rgb(53, 28, 117); color: #351c75; font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">It's the one year anniversary that our book </b><b style="caret-color: rgb(53, 28, 117); color: #351c75; font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><a href="http://amzn.to/32kHWa2" target="_blank">"Dementia-Mama-Drama"</a> </b><b style="caret-color: rgb(53, 28, 117); color: #351c75; font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">was published! The past year was a stressful and isolating one that we all will never forget. Most of us learned a lot about ourselves and we discovered new things that we did but thought we could <i>never</i> do. Zoom became a common ground for social get togethers and family became even more important.</b></p><p><b style="caret-color: rgb(53, 28, 117); color: #351c75; font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b style="caret-color: rgb(53, 28, 117); color: #351c75; font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVjlMKCymuCWNakK968DwkMFP3Zu6WQ3PXzwfoGCaVSCbvtgqpl7CLlMajHT0VgZz7g6SX1cXTpYv5WeYWv3b94Z5QtSmb7Zof4zmuhMgQsCLsT0afd29J8fpqW5W1FD_6xAKq6znuLN4/s568/Leeza%2527s+Care+Connection+Interview+.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="311" data-original-width="568" height="219" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVjlMKCymuCWNakK968DwkMFP3Zu6WQ3PXzwfoGCaVSCbvtgqpl7CLlMajHT0VgZz7g6SX1cXTpYv5WeYWv3b94Z5QtSmb7Zof4zmuhMgQsCLsT0afd29J8fpqW5W1FD_6xAKq6znuLN4/w400-h219/Leeza%2527s+Care+Connection+Interview+.jpeg" width="400" /></a></b></div><b style="caret-color: rgb(53, 28, 117); color: #351c75; font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><br /></b><b style="caret-color: rgb(53, 28, 117); color: #351c75; font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">As for me, I'd rather focus on the positive things that happened for us. </b><b style="caret-color: rgb(53, 28, 117); color: #351c75; font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">Since our book was published, "Dementia-Mama-Drama" was part of <a href="https://www.facebook.com/watch/live/?v=765612950687424&ref=watch_permalink" target="_blank">The Easton Book Festival</a>. I was a guest author on <a href="https://www.memorycafedirectory.com/guest-author-vincent-zappacosta/" target="_blank">Memory Cafe</a> and was interviewed live on Leeza Gibbon's <a href="https://fb.watch/5RAl3hiElU/" target="_blank">Leeza's Care Connection</a>. I was also asked to be part of the <a href="https://alzauthors.com/2020/12/15/a-daily-dose-of-dementia-mama-drama/" target="_blank">AlzAuthors</a> family along with being interviewed on the <a href="https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/untangling-dementia-mama-drama-with-vincent-zappacosta/id1536758032?i=1000519811245" target="_blank">AlzAuthors Podcast</a>! I was even on a panel with other caregivers for medical professionals discussing Alzheimer's and caregiving for the John Hopkins Alzheimer's Center. OMG, even <i>more</i> events are scheduled for later this year. </b><p></p><p><b style="caret-color: rgb(53, 28, 117); color: #351c75; font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">To celebrate all this, I thought it would be a great time to repost one of my first blog posts. We've come along way since then and I know that Mama would've been so excited that her story was being shared with a new audience.</b></p><p><b style="caret-color: rgb(53, 28, 117); color: #351c75; font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>"WHAT'S DEMENTIA, MAMA?"</i></span></b></p><p><b style="caret-color: rgb(53, 28, 117); color: #351c75; font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><i>On one of my daily visits I asked Mama what she knew about Alzheimer's or Dementia. She said it was a disease and that she gets sick just thinking about it. She didn't really want to talk about it. Her response was "I like what I am and that's it". Once again she changed the subject and broke out singing another version of "Some of These Days". Here's the video from our visit.</i></b></p><p><b style="caret-color: rgb(53, 28, 117); color: #351c75; font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b style="caret-color: rgb(53, 28, 117); color: #351c75; font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxsOvS22q5yPbf6EB29_bDsBycMgcdnuOWudxyaEo6Fk8GKfwPG-ECRcAnUk3dlERfRvUxXSIhu4h9wQwC6gQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></b></div><b style="caret-color: rgb(53, 28, 117); color: #351c75; font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><b><i><div><b style="caret-color: rgb(53, 28, 117); color: #351c75; font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></b></div>I usually didn't put Mama on the spot about the subject, but I just wanted to hear her feelings about it at this particular moment in time. </i></b></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><b>Some days that's just how we dealt with it.</b></span></i></b><div><b style="caret-color: rgb(53, 28, 117); color: #351c75; font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" face="Verdana, sans-serif"><br /></span></i></b></div><div><b style="caret-color: rgb(53, 28, 117); color: #351c75; font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><i style="text-align: center;"><span> <span> <span> <span> <span> <span> <span> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span>* * *</i><i><span class="Apple-style-span" face="Verdana, sans-serif"> </span></i></b><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b style="font-family: courier; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: #674ea7;">Read more about our journey with Mama in our book "Dementia-Mama-Drama" on</span> <a href="https://amzn.to/2WmtRai" target="_blank">Amazon Books</a></span></b></p><div><i style="color: #3800e0; font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;"><span style="color: purple;"><b>You Can Also </b></span></i><i style="color: #3800e0; font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;"><span style="color: purple;"><b>Follow Us On</b></span></i></div><div><div><span style="color: #351c75;"><div style="color: black;"><div style="font-family: "courier new";"><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Facebook:</span><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> </span><span style="color: blue; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: magenta;"><b><a href="http://facebook.com/Dementia.Mama.Drama" target="_blank">Dementia-Mama-Drama</a></b></span></span></div><div style="font-family: "courier new";"><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Twitter:</span><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> </span><span style="color: blue; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: blue;"><a href="https://twitter.com/DementiaMama" target="_blank"><b>DementiaMama</b></a></span></span></div><div style="font-family: "courier new";"><div style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: #674ea7;">Instagram:</span><span> </span><b><a href="https://www.instagram.com/dementia_mama_drama/" target="_blank">Dementia-Mama-Drama</a></b></span></div></div></div></span></div></div></div>Vin @ Dementia-Mama-Dramahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06190736738357356959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1774291480170417816.post-51769207840056210792021-04-30T18:45:00.000-07:002021-04-30T18:45:51.421-07:00A Dynamic Duo<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-b_ieaB3t56c/YIuO5NrQ3pI/AAAAAAAABlY/M9yOkwZDUjQNqf-kwTo4Ev3V4vChghxgwCNcBGAsYHQ/Vito%2Band%2BAnna%2Bat%2BParty%2Bnyc2vin.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-b_ieaB3t56c/YIuO5NrQ3pI/AAAAAAAABlY/M9yOkwZDUjQNqf-kwTo4Ev3V4vChghxgwCNcBGAsYHQ/Vito%2Band%2BAnna%2Bat%2BParty%2Bnyc2vin.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><b style="font-family: courier;">It was recently the anniversary of my Dad's death. I tried to remember things that I missed about my father, but the memories weren't as clear as they once were. I can still hear his almost childlike hysterical laugh when we watched Saturday morning cartoons or The Three Stooges. Thankfully I remember a few things, like how he taught me which subway lines to take or how to get a good deal by bargaining (if possible) when shopping. Oh and of course he taught me to always look down as I walked on the street in case someone dropped money. That was my Dad!</b><p></p><p><b style="font-family: courier;">Then I thought about Mama and it was totally different. It's like she’s still here with me. The many memories of Mama are still crystal clear and I realized why. It's because of our book <a href="https://amzn.to/2WmtRai" target="_blank">"Dementia-Mama-Drama"</a> and the fact that I'm always on social media sharing </b><b style="font-family: courier;">our stories and</b><b style="font-family: courier;"> photos while being an advocate for caregivers. It's like she never left.</b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b style="font-family: courier;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-YUBhELw8NUM/YIuPXNIJ8aI/AAAAAAAABlg/CvQXpHPBX7wZVItUP4toLDA3b8F8RaQwgCNcBGAsYHQ/Anna%2Band%2BVito%2Bon%2Bthe%2BDock%2Bnyc2vin.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1533" height="240" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-YUBhELw8NUM/YIuPXNIJ8aI/AAAAAAAABlg/CvQXpHPBX7wZVItUP4toLDA3b8F8RaQwgCNcBGAsYHQ/Anna%2Band%2BVito%2Bon%2Bthe%2BDock%2Bnyc2vin.JPG" width="180" /></a></b></div><p></p><p><span style="font-family: courier;"><b>Mama is still very much a part of my everyday life. I am very comforted by the fact that so many people have had the opportunity to meet her through her story that lives on in the book. That is one of the things she wanted most, not to be forgotten.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: courier;"><b>Perhaps my Dad’s story will be out there someday, because he was certainly a memorable character too. They were very different from each other... like yin and yang but definitely a dynamic duo. </b></span></p><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="color: #2b00fe;">* * *</span> </i></div><div><br /></div><div><b style="font-family: courier; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: #674ea7;">Read more about our journey with Mama in our book "Dementia-Mama-Drama" on</span> <a href="https://amzn.to/2WmtRai" target="_blank">Amazon Books</a></span></b></div><div><b style="font-family: courier; font-size: 16px;"><br /></b></div><p><span style="font-family: courier;"></span></p><div><div><i style="color: #3800e0; font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;"><span style="color: purple;"><b>You Can Also </b></span></i><i style="color: #3800e0; font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;"><span style="color: purple;"><b>Follow Us On</b></span></i></div><div><span style="color: #351c75;"><div style="color: black;"><div style="font-family: "courier new";"><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Facebook:</span><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> </span><span style="color: blue; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: magenta;"><b><a href="http://facebook.com/Dementia.Mama.Drama" target="_blank">Dementia-Mama-Drama</a></b></span></span></div><div style="font-family: "courier new";"><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Twitter:</span><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> </span><span style="color: blue; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: blue;"><a href="https://twitter.com/DementiaMama" target="_blank"><b>DementiaMama</b></a></span></span></div><div style="font-family: "courier new";"><div style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: #674ea7;">Instagram:</span><span> </span><b><a href="https://www.instagram.com/dementia_mama_drama/" target="_blank">Dementia-Mama-Drama</a></b></span></div></div></div></span></div></div><div><span style="font-family: courier;"><b><br /></b></span></div>Vin @ Dementia-Mama-Dramahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06190736738357356959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1774291480170417816.post-51121036593773243562021-03-12T22:57:00.001-08:002021-03-12T23:04:48.094-08:00Happy 75th Birthday Liza - Mama Meets Minnelli<p><span style="font-family: courier;"><span>In celebration of the 75th birthday of Liza Minnelli I’d like to share a memorable moment when Mama met Minnelli. She never forgot it and talked about it often, Liza was one of Mama’s favorite singers. Proving once again the power of music and the ability to spark memory in those that otherwise seem to have lost that ability. Thank you Liza for the memory and Happy, Happy Birthday!</span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span class="s1" style="font-family: courier;"><i>Here’s a popular excerpt about Liza from the book “Dementia-Mama-Drama” on</i> </span><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: 16px;"><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><i><a href="https://amzn.to/2WmtRai" target="_blank">Amazon Books</a></i></span></span></b></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: courier;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span face="CourierNewPS-BoldMT">There are other things in your life that you never forget, like when Mama met Liza Minnelli. Meeting Liza epitomizes the New York City experience. It was a chance meeting on the street, no anticipation, just another day in the city. </span></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span face="CourierNewPS-BoldMT"><br /></span></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: courier;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bMc_B5dg4tU/YExJ6nA9UcI/AAAAAAAABkc/vWZBxr20qmAJMF-w7g6Leka2I6fCg3uSwCNcBGAsYHQ/s323/51-%2BMama%2B%2526%2BLiza%2Bnyc2vin.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="319" data-original-width="323" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bMc_B5dg4tU/YExJ6nA9UcI/AAAAAAAABkc/vWZBxr20qmAJMF-w7g6Leka2I6fCg3uSwCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/51-%2BMama%2B%2526%2BLiza%2Bnyc2vin.jpeg" width="320" /></a></span></div><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span face="CourierNewPS-BoldMT"><br /></span></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span face="CourierNewPS-BoldMT">Douglass and I were walking down the street in the West Village to visit Mama at the nursing home. As we passed by an outdoor café, an extremely animated woman caught my eye and I slowed down. Could it be? No way. Is it? OMG, it’s Liza Minnelli! I said to Douglass “Slow down, listen to me, there’s Liza.” He kept walking and looked at me like I was nuts, he didn’t believe it was her. I looked at him and said “Mama is finally gonna meet Liza! Go back to the apartment and get the camera” </span><span face="CourierNewPS-BoldItalicMT" style="font-style: italic;">(we didn’t have a camera phone back then).</span><span face="CourierNewPS-BoldMT"> I ran across 12th Street to get Mama who was sitting on the bench outside the nursing home. I told her “Hurry, get up, come with me and walk to the corner - Mama, you’re finally gonna meet Liza Minnelli.” Well, I </span><span face="CourierNewPS-BoldItalicMT" style="font-style: italic;">never</span><span face="CourierNewPS-BoldMT"> saw Mama walk so fast with her walker. Douglass now had the camera and the three of us tried to act casual as we strolled by the restaurant. Then we realized that Liza was now standing directly in front of us on the sidewalk smoking a cigarette. Oh my God, “Vin with a Z” was taking “Anna with a Z” to meet “Liza with a Z”. We were totally Z’d to the max! </span></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13.6px;"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span face="CourierNewPS-BoldMT"></span><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier;">I lightly tapped Liza on her shoulder and introduced the three of us. She was very gracious and warm, acting more like an old friend than a celebrity. Insisting on taking a few pictures with us, she hugged us all repeatedly and then signed an autograph for Mama. Liza kept talking and talking as if we had known her for years, just like you would expect her to do. She even joked with me, calling me "Daddy" since my name is Vincent just like her father, Vincente Minnelli, who also suffered with Alzheimer’s. </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13.6px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-style: italic;"> </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span face="CourierNewPS-BoldMT"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span face="CourierNewPS-BoldMT"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8map3zJuVgqthJaFyd5CO1TxLscuFRoUmK24pL7VnXec1DuAzIxwKN3kWvJL_N0vIu5_kEOQSrUNkUKHxnOY1nWcO9L7IpMVwGjFifqNcj5L2LDlFXg-H5Qn4sEgbZg0mW_3OUBMEF4Y/s1332/52-+B%253AW+Vin%252C+Mama+%2526+Douglass+At+Minnelli+On+Broadway+nyc2vin.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1089" data-original-width="1332" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8map3zJuVgqthJaFyd5CO1TxLscuFRoUmK24pL7VnXec1DuAzIxwKN3kWvJL_N0vIu5_kEOQSrUNkUKHxnOY1nWcO9L7IpMVwGjFifqNcj5L2LDlFXg-H5Qn4sEgbZg0mW_3OUBMEF4Y/w366-h300/52-+B%253AW+Vin%252C+Mama+%2526+Douglass+At+Minnelli+On+Broadway+nyc2vin.jpeg" width="366" /></a></span></span></div><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span face="CourierNewPS-BoldMT"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span face="CourierNewPS-BoldMT"><br /></span></span></span></span></p><span style="font-family: courier;"><span face="CourierNewPS-BoldMT">Liza made our day, but even more importantly she made Mama's day. It was a most memorable meeting, especially for Mama. She loved Liza and went to many of her shows with us. She always kept the photo of the four of us by her bedside in the nursing home. Mama never forgot that day and would proudly tell people about the time she met Liza Minnelli. When we ran into Liza a few years later, I told her about that day and how much it meant to Mama. She was very touched and said “Oh baby, I’m so glad." </span></span><p></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier;">I’ll be eternally grateful to Liza for being so giving to the three of us on the street that day and leaving Mama with a lasting memory. </span><span face="CourierNewPS-BoldMT" style="font-family: courier;">Mama met Minnelli and it meant the world to her. She would tell the story again and again and again. To quote a song from Vincente Minnelli’s MGM film “Gigi”... </span><span face="CourierNewPS-BoldItalicMT" style="font-family: courier; font-style: italic;">“Ah yes, I remember it well.” </span><span face="CourierNewPS-BoldMT" style="font-family: courier;">And so did Mama!</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span face="CourierNewPS-BoldMT"><br /></span></span></p><div><span face="CourierNewPS-BoldMT" style="font-weight: bold;"><div style="font-weight: normal; text-align: center;"><i><span style="color: #2b00fe;">* * *</span> </i></div><div style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></div><div style="font-weight: normal;"><b style="font-family: courier; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: #674ea7;">Read more about our journey with Mama in our book "Dementia-Mama-Drama" on</span> <a href="https://amzn.to/2WmtRai" target="_blank">Amazon Books</a></span></b></div><div style="font-weight: normal;"><b style="font-family: courier; font-size: 16px;"><br /></b></div><div style="font-weight: normal;"><div><i style="color: #3800e0; font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;"><span style="color: purple;"><b>You Can Also </b></span></i><i style="color: #3800e0; font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;"><span style="color: purple;"><b>Follow Us On</b></span></i></div><div><span style="color: #351c75;"><div style="color: black;"><div style="font-family: "courier new";"><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Facebook:</span><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> </span><span style="color: blue; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: magenta;"><b><a href="http://facebook.com/Dementia.Mama.Drama" target="_blank">Dementia-Mama-Drama</a></b></span></span></div><div style="font-family: "courier new";"><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Twitter:</span><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> </span><span style="color: blue; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: blue;"><a href="https://twitter.com/DementiaMama" target="_blank"><b>DementiaMama</b></a></span></span></div><div style="font-family: "courier new";"><div style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: #674ea7;">Instagram:</span><span> </span><b><a href="https://www.instagram.com/dementia_mama_drama/" target="_blank">Dementia-Mama-Drama</a></b></span></div></div></div></span></div></div></span></div>Vin @ Dementia-Mama-Dramahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06190736738357356959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1774291480170417816.post-17632797400465301032021-02-28T20:27:00.000-08:002021-02-28T20:27:17.845-08:00Just Another Day At The Spa<p><span style="font-family: courier;">When we lived in NYC, a feel good fix for Mama was getting her nails done. She loved having her hands massaged, it was heaven for her. She'd occasionally doze off as the manicurist worked on her hands. For the next few days following her "beauty treatment" as she called it, she'd show off her nails to all her friends at the nursing home.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: courier;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: courier;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CBYon4BuwEU/YDxpF9UiA2I/AAAAAAAABj8/er-RuHjDRME3GwMa3syPVnNsY-oYnMIfwCNcBGAsYHQ/s1600/NYC%2BNail%2BBoutique%2Bwith%2BMama%2Bnyc2vin.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CBYon4BuwEU/YDxpF9UiA2I/AAAAAAAABj8/er-RuHjDRME3GwMa3syPVnNsY-oYnMIfwCNcBGAsYHQ/w300-h400/NYC%2BNail%2BBoutique%2Bwith%2BMama%2Bnyc2vin.jpg" width="300" /></a></span></div><p><span style="font-family: courier;">Years later in California, Douglass or I would do her nails since she really enjoyed the "beauty treatment". One day as Douglass was finishing Mama's nails, I started to sing "After You've Gone" to keep her from dozing off. Well it woke her up and then she started...</span></p><p><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="color: #2b00fe;"><b>Mama:</b></span> Why are you singing that song Vincent? Are you doing my nails to get me ready for my casket?</span></p><p><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="color: #2b00fe;"><b>Vin:</b></span> You love that song and you were starting to doze off. Casket? What?</span></p><p><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="color: #2b00fe;"><b>Mama:</b></span> Yeah casket! When I die I want to be laid out in a beautiful gown and have everyone come see me.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="color: #2b00fe;"><b>Douglass:</b></span> Anna, when did you ever wear gowns?</span></p><p><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="color: #2b00fe;"><b>Vin:</b></span> And who do you think is going to come see you in your beautiful gown? Besides you said you wanted to be cremated.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: courier;"><b><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Mama:</span></b> Ok, ok. No more talk about this death crap.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="color: #2b00fe;"><b>Vin:</b></span> You're the one that brought it up.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="color: #2b00fe;"><b>Mama:</b></span> Well I don't wanna talk about it anymore. Deal the damn cards, will ya? </span></p><p><span style="font-family: courier;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: courier;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfx-vV2VEKTFn8GNrhjvMgrrTRhTXGC_-TuubfTslemKG2QZXaS0NfUjAv15rh-99Ji61GnOGVSiazD_5emhNMom3UkXMZxbbEbtgYztN1IVShdrhy7sk-5U0Btr-48Hu9OpCAfj45UTo/s952/Douglass+%2526+Anna+Playing+Cards+in+Garden+nyc2vin.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="666" data-original-width="952" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfx-vV2VEKTFn8GNrhjvMgrrTRhTXGC_-TuubfTslemKG2QZXaS0NfUjAv15rh-99Ji61GnOGVSiazD_5emhNMom3UkXMZxbbEbtgYztN1IVShdrhy7sk-5U0Btr-48Hu9OpCAfj45UTo/w400-h280/Douglass+%2526+Anna+Playing+Cards+in+Garden+nyc2vin.png" width="400" /></a></span></div><p><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="color: #2b00fe;"><b>Douglass:</b></span> Okay, let's play. </span><span style="caret-color: rgb(53, 28, 117); font-family: courier;">Your nails are dry now.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="color: #2b00fe;"><b>Mama:</b></span> Thanks Douglass. My son is a little son of a bitch, always giving me a hard time.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: courier;">We dealt the cards and Mama glared at me belting out "After You've Gone" changing the words <i>(of course)</i> to "After I'm Gone." </span></p><p><span style="font-family: courier;">Oh yeah, just another day at the spa.</span></p><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="color: #2b00fe;">* * *</span> </i></div><div><br /></div><div><b style="font-family: courier; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: #674ea7;">Read more about our journey with Mama in our book "Dementia-Mama-Drama" on</span> <a href="https://amzn.to/2WmtRai" target="_blank">Amazon Books</a></span></b></div><div><b style="font-family: courier; font-size: 16px;"><br /></b></div><div><div><i style="color: #3800e0; font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;"><span style="color: purple;"><b>You Can Also </b></span></i><i style="color: #3800e0; font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;"><span style="color: purple;"><b>Follow Us On</b></span></i></div><div><span style="color: #351c75;"><div style="color: black;"><div style="font-family: "courier new";"><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Facebook:</span><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> </span><span style="color: blue; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: magenta;"><b><a href="http://facebook.com/Dementia.Mama.Drama" target="_blank">Dementia-Mama-Drama</a></b></span></span></div><div style="font-family: "courier new";"><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Twitter:</span><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> </span><span style="color: blue; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: blue;"><a href="https://twitter.com/DementiaMama" target="_blank"><b>DementiaMama</b></a></span></span></div><div style="font-family: "courier new";"><div style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: #674ea7;">Instagram:</span><span> </span><b><a href="https://www.instagram.com/dementia_mama_drama/" target="_blank">Dementia-Mama-Drama</a></b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div></div></div></span></div></div>Vin @ Dementia-Mama-Dramahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06190736738357356959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1774291480170417816.post-61563922834736086452021-01-29T20:27:00.002-08:002021-01-30T15:14:11.102-08:00Recipe For Happiness<p><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="color: #351c75;">Mama</span><span style="color: #351c75;"> </span><i style="color: #351c75;">always</i><span style="color: #351c75;"> </span><span style="color: #351c75;">loved food. Mama + Food = Happiness... that was the recipe. Food was something we always talked about, even till the end. When all else failed, I knew the topic of food would never fail. We'd talk about what she ate, what she was going to eat <i>or</i> what she really wanted to eat. As her memory got worse I'd ask her about what she ate that day to see if she remembered. I'd check the menu on her bulletin board daily so </span></span><span style="caret-color: rgb(53, 28, 117); color: #351c75; font-family: courier;">I always knew what she really ate</span><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: courier;">. If she didn't remember, she'd say spaghetti </span><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: courier;">(her favorite)</span><i style="color: #351c75; font-family: courier;"> </i><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: courier;">or meat and potatoes</span><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: courier;"> </span><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: courier;">(always a safe answer).</span></p><p><span style="color: #351c75;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(53, 28, 117);"></span></span></p><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghrQRJ9qiJ70txFHrqYWunTjP1KykD6EgoCaUE2zKm3OPBJDlg1ym43x6LAaWLXjylA_xAGdFPbqOor6cGGCnASsde6xwbF2-leF-lG7onbRmz5OZiqmezVYZze8_gN6FccFnkbL3p2Iw/s2048/64-+Mama+With+Salad+nyc2vin.jpeg"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1699" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghrQRJ9qiJ70txFHrqYWunTjP1KykD6EgoCaUE2zKm3OPBJDlg1ym43x6LAaWLXjylA_xAGdFPbqOor6cGGCnASsde6xwbF2-leF-lG7onbRmz5OZiqmezVYZze8_gN6FccFnkbL3p2Iw/s320/64-+Mama+With+Salad+nyc2vin.jpeg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #351c75;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(53, 28, 117);"></span></span></div><span style="color: #351c75;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(53, 28, 117);"><span style="font-family: courier;"><p>She constantly talked about cooking and how much she missed it, so I'd ask her about some of her favorite recipes. It became a running joke for me and Douglass because every dish <i>always</i> had the same ingredients. She'd say <i>"a little salt, a little pepper, olive oil and a lot of Italian cheese". </i>It didn't matter what the dish was, it was her stock answer. </p></span></span></span><p></p><div><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: courier;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: courier;">Looking back, it did hold true to most of her recipes. At times it was funny and I'd egg her on to see how far I could take her and what other ingredients she might add on that day. Sometimes she caught on and would give me a look. Then she'd laugh and say <i>"shut the hell up, enough with my damn recipes". </i></span><span style="caret-color: rgb(53, 28, 117); color: #351c75; font-family: courier;">It was when she caught on that I thanked God for Mama's recipes and of course <i>"a little salt, a little pepper, olive oil and a lot of Italian cheese".</i></span></div><div><span style="caret-color: rgb(53, 28, 117); color: #351c75; font-family: courier;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: courier;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(53, 28, 117);"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiZQcFaColl7BI-9R68sXmBY-lovqLrTir8p0dYnJeznswmpiFOVwSwZXfUD5w16YhJGdZiM9jccTDKJFxkPQ8V-iP6RZkblIi_MXbwKotpWa7Pm248knOMaiTVObmMqvbmBwUpQnGdqM/s225/Italian+Salt+%2526+pepper.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="225" data-original-width="225" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiZQcFaColl7BI-9R68sXmBY-lovqLrTir8p0dYnJeznswmpiFOVwSwZXfUD5w16YhJGdZiM9jccTDKJFxkPQ8V-iP6RZkblIi_MXbwKotpWa7Pm248knOMaiTVObmMqvbmBwUpQnGdqM/w200-h200/Italian+Salt+%2526+pepper.jpeg" width="200" /></a><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-N6gQfMv11F8/YBS8fRugVyI/AAAAAAAABhs/xApPjoJ_S-Ug-uB1yTHh_VgLlY2CecPHACNcBGAsYHQ/s348/Italian%2BOlive%2BOil.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="348" data-original-width="203" height="200" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-N6gQfMv11F8/YBS8fRugVyI/AAAAAAAABhs/xApPjoJ_S-Ug-uB1yTHh_VgLlY2CecPHACNcBGAsYHQ/w118-h200/Italian%2BOlive%2BOil.jpg" width="118" /></a></div></div></div></span></span><div><span style="color: #351c75;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Nmd27KjefRY/YBXnOCj2spI/AAAAAAAABjA/qLyr__jSeeADG2Fm2JwQb0Iax70k17a-ACNcBGAsYHQ/s273/Cheese.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="162" data-original-width="273" height="190" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Nmd27KjefRY/YBXnOCj2spI/AAAAAAAABjA/qLyr__jSeeADG2Fm2JwQb0Iax70k17a-ACNcBGAsYHQ/w320-h190/Cheese.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></span></div><div><span style="color: #351c75;"><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; text-align: center;"><i><span style="color: #2b00fe;">* * *</span> </i></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black;"><br /></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black;"><b style="font-family: courier; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: #674ea7;">Read more about our journey with Mama in our book "Dementia-Mama-Drama" on</span> <a href="https://amzn.to/2WmtRai" target="_blank">Amazon Books</a></span></b></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black;"><b style="font-family: courier; font-size: 16px;"><br /></b></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black;"><div><i style="color: #3800e0; font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;"><span style="color: purple;"><b>You Can Also </b></span></i><i style="color: #3800e0; font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;"><span style="color: purple;"><b>Follow Us On</b></span></i></div><div><span style="color: #351c75;"><div style="color: black;"><div style="font-family: "courier new";"><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Facebook:</span><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> </span><span style="color: blue; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: magenta;"><b><a href="http://facebook.com/Dementia.Mama.Drama" target="_blank">Dementia-Mama-Drama</a></b></span></span></div><div style="font-family: "courier new";"><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Twitter:</span><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> </span><span style="color: blue; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: blue;"><a href="https://twitter.com/DementiaMama" target="_blank"><b>DementiaMama</b></a></span></span></div><div style="font-family: "courier new";"><div style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: #674ea7;">Instagram:</span><span> </span><b><a href="https://www.instagram.com/dementia_mama_drama/" target="_blank">Dementia-Mama-Drama</a></b></span></div><div><br /></div></div></div></span></div></div></span></div></div>Vin @ Dementia-Mama-Dramahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06190736738357356959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1774291480170417816.post-657674620488353392020-12-27T23:17:00.002-08:002020-12-27T23:20:46.446-08:00Dealing With Mama<p><span style="font-family: courier;"><span>Mama loved playing cards. It was a good distraction and a familiar routine for her. We always played her version of gin rummy. It became our ritual and we could tell if it was a good night or not depending on how long she wanted to play. It was our comfort zone.</span><span> </span><span>No more questions, no more complaining... we were all in the moment. It took our minds off of what was going on <i>and</i> it was fun. It made her think and made us laugh.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: courier;">On a typical night she'd complain about dealing the cards because her hands hurt so much. I didn’t let her get away with it, Douglass on the other hand was more forgiving. We both knew it was a good exercise for her arthritic hands and could help with her concentration, so I insisted she'd deal. </span><span style="font-family: courier;">Sometimes Mama added up the scores quicker than Douglass or I could... on a good night!</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: black; font-family: courier; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguN-lZbqS9RLWvPERdRgxif7ikZFXDpZZ0ewHbDNd7oxNhNs495a5ZSviy6hrkhxHh6uOIhvWxldIlI3WoGivdHvxhE8oGOBuGoEAz4K-4GERIK18MyMmR1S-GmIe6xAEEHdU-wMvew3Y/s320/Anna+cards+nyc2vin.JPG" width="320" /></span></div><p><span style="font-family: courier;">Playing cards was also a part of her past. She always loved playing cards with my father, her friends or the family. It wasn't only the weekly card games they had but also after every family gathering. She was the "hostess with the mostest" constantly bringing out snacks and would curse when she was losing! My father would just shake his head and laugh. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: courier;">We'd play cards with Mama until she got tired or couldn't concentrate any longer. We dealt with the role as caregivers every day but during our nightly card games we were just playing cards </span><i style="font-family: courier;">dealing with Mama!</i><span style="font-family: courier;"> </span></p><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="color: #2b00fe;">* * *</span> </i></div><div><br /></div><div><b style="font-family: courier; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: #674ea7;">Read more about our journey with Mama in our book "Dementia-Mama-Drama" on</span> <a href="https://amzn.to/2WmtRai" target="_blank">Amazon Books</a></span></b></div><div><b style="font-family: courier; font-size: 16px;"><br /></b></div><div><div><i style="color: #3800e0; font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;"><span style="color: purple;"><b>You Can Also </b></span></i><i style="color: #3800e0; font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;"><span style="color: purple;"><b>Follow Us On</b></span></i></div><div><span style="color: #351c75;"><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black;"><div style="font-family: "courier new";"><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Facebook:</span><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> </span><span style="color: blue; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: magenta;"><b><a href="http://facebook.com/Dementia.Mama.Drama" target="_blank">Dementia-Mama-Drama</a></b></span></span></div><div style="font-family: "courier new";"><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Twitter:</span><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> </span><span style="color: blue; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: blue;"><a href="https://twitter.com/DementiaMama" target="_blank"><b>DementiaMama</b></a></span></span></div><div style="font-family: "courier new";"><div style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: #674ea7;">Instagram:</span><span> </span><b><a href="https://www.instagram.com/dementia_mama_drama/" target="_blank">Dementia-Mama-Drama</a></b></span></div></div></div></span></div></div><div><br /></div>Vin @ Dementia-Mama-Dramahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06190736738357356959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1774291480170417816.post-17356036618711715742020-11-28T23:04:00.002-08:002020-11-28T23:04:50.505-08:00"The Change"<p><i><span>Even before Mama was diagnosed with Dementia, a</span><span> parent/child role reversal was often there. I remember when I was ten years old and Mama came home late from a doctor's appointment. Of course I was worried... </span></i></p><span style="color: blue;">Vin:</span> You're late! How was the doctor's appointment? What did he say?<br /><span style="color: blue;">Mama:</span> He said I'm too nervous and I need to relax.<br /><span style="color: blue;">Vin:</span> That's what he always says. But are you okay, Mama?<br /><span style="color: blue;">Mama:</span> Yeah, I'm fine but I'm going through <i>"the change".</i><br /><span style="color: blue;">Vin:</span> What change?<br /><span style="color: blue;">Mama:</span> <i>"The change".</i><br /><span style="color: blue;">Vin:</span> What's the change?<br /><span style="color: blue;">Mama:</span> Ask your father about that. Do you want some ice cream?<div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Z_ehodB9gbI/X8NDRE7b0KI/AAAAAAAABfc/Ig09oirCLZoXu7K8yrIZ7HG0CVDWg9RrQCNcBGAsYHQ/s570/Ice%2BCream.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="529" data-original-width="570" height="242" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Z_ehodB9gbI/X8NDRE7b0KI/AAAAAAAABfc/Ig09oirCLZoXu7K8yrIZ7HG0CVDWg9RrQCNcBGAsYHQ/w261-h242/Ice%2BCream.jpg" width="261" /></a></div><br /><i><span>Years later </span><span>in the nursing home,</span><span> Mama's doctor visits were becoming more frequent. I began to worry even more...</span></i></div><div><i><br /></i><span style="color: blue;">Vin:</span> How was your doctor's visit today? What did he say?<br /><span style="color: blue;">Mama:</span> Oh, I'm just sick and tired.<br /><span style="color: blue;">Vin:</span> He said you're sick and tired?<br /><span style="color: blue;">Mama:</span> No, he said I'm fine.<br /><span style="color: blue;">Vin:</span> You're fine?<br /><span style="color: blue;">Mama:</span> Yes he said I'll be fine when my son gets me the hell out of this place.<br /><span style="color: blue;">Vin:</span> I'll ask the doctor about that. Do you want some ice cream?<br /><br /><i><span>Some things change... and some things don't. </span>And so it goes.</i></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="color: #2b00fe;"><br /></span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="color: #2b00fe;">* * *</span> </i></div><div><br /></div><div><b style="font-family: courier; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: #674ea7;">Read more about our journey with Mama in our book "Dementia-Mama-Drama" on</span> <a href="https://amzn.to/2WmtRai" target="_blank">Amazon Books</a></span></b></div><div><b style="font-family: courier; font-size: 16px;"><br /></b></div><div><div><i style="color: #3800e0; font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;"><span style="color: purple;"><b>You Can Also </b></span></i><i style="color: #3800e0; font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;"><span style="color: purple;"><b>Follow Us On</b></span></i></div><div><span style="color: #351c75;"><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black;"><div style="font-family: "courier new";"><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Facebook:</span><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> </span><span style="color: blue; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: magenta;"><b><a href="http://facebook.com/Dementia.Mama.Drama" target="_blank">Dementia-Mama-Drama</a></b></span></span></div><div style="font-family: "courier new";"><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Twitter:</span><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> </span><span style="color: blue; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: blue;"><a href="https://twitter.com/DementiaMama" target="_blank"><b>DementiaMama</b></a></span></span></div><div style="font-family: "courier new";"><div style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: #674ea7;">Instagram:</span><span> </span><b><a href="https://www.instagram.com/dementia_mama_drama/" target="_blank">Dementia-Mama-Drama</a></b></span></div></div></div></span></div></div></div>Vin @ Dementia-Mama-Dramahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06190736738357356959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1774291480170417816.post-76464838268294084352020-10-22T22:13:00.000-07:002020-10-22T22:13:02.349-07:00Money? I Have Some Money<h4 style="font-family: courier; font-size: 16px;"><b><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I never questioned it growing up, but we didn't really have money. We didn't do without, but we were never extravagant. We lived in a small apartment with two bedrooms, two closets and one bathroom. It was usually four people because my elderly aunt lived with us most of the time. Money didn't seem like a problem, but I didn't realize it at the time...</span></b></h4><h4 style="font-family: courier; font-size: 16px;"><b><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><i><br /></i></span></b></h4><h4 style="font-family: courier; font-size: 16px;"><b><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><i>An excerpt from our book "Dementia-Mama-Drama" now on <a href="https://amzn.to/2WmtRai" target="_blank">Amazon Books</a></i></span></b></h4><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: courier;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: courier;">During a visit with Mama one night we were cleaning out her purse. We did this often because she liked to wrap and save the food she didn't finish at mealtime to keep for “later.” Her purse was always full of stuff, we even found her tv remote in there sometimes. She tried to help and pulled out her leopard coin purse. She took out a dollar bill, looked at it, then put it back in her coin purse. She did this a few times while we cleaned out her purse, so we started to talk about money...</span></b></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: courier;"><b></b><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EceN9rk_eGM/X5JkKfQRW-I/AAAAAAAABeo/Cv36ncIRGs0QJBQ5T5qjmB_RmKyWJUQBwCNcBGAsYHQ/s720/17-%2BMama%2BMoney%2Bnyc2vin.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="549" data-original-width="720" height="342" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EceN9rk_eGM/X5JkKfQRW-I/AAAAAAAABeo/Cv36ncIRGs0QJBQ5T5qjmB_RmKyWJUQBwCNcBGAsYHQ/w449-h342/17-%2BMama%2BMoney%2Bnyc2vin.jpeg" width="449" /></a></div><b><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="color: #2b00fe;"><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><b><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="color: #2b00fe;"><br /></span></span></b></p>Vin:</span> Why haven’t you ever saved any money?</span></b><p></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><b><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Mama:</span> Vin your father was a gambler, that son of a bitch, may he rest in peace. He ran the numbers, he was a bookie. You even took the numbers on Saturday mornings because he slept late after playing cards all night. We never saved a damn dime! </span></b></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: courier;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Vin:</span> Well, why didn't you try to save some money on your own?</span></b></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: courier;"><b></b><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Mama:</span> Money? I have some money.</span></b></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: courier;"><b></b><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Vin:</span> You do? </span></b></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: courier;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Mama:</span> Sure, I have a couple of hundred in my bank account. When I drop dead, you'll have a couple of hundred.</span></b></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: courier;"><b></b><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: courier;">Douglass and I starting laughing which made Mama start laughing. We knew she didn’t have a bank account for many years. I gave her two more dollars for her coin purse. </span></b></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: courier;"><b></b><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Mama:</span> What’s this for?</span></b></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: courier;"><b></b><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Vin:</span> That’s for making us laugh.</span></b></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: courier;"><b></b><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Mama:</span><i>(She looked at us and gave a big smile)</i> I should make you laugh more often.</span></b></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: courier;"><b></b><br /></span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: courier;"><b>It was a good night, and worth the two bucks!</b> </span></p><p><i style="color: #3800e0; font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;"><span style="color: purple;"><b><br /></b></span></i></p><p><i style="color: #3800e0; font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;"><span style="color: purple;"><b>You Can Also </b></span></i><i style="color: #3800e0; font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;"><span style="color: purple;"><b>Follow Us On</b></span></i></p><div><div style="font-family: "courier new";"><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Facebook:</span><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> </span><span style="color: blue; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: magenta;"><b><a href="http://facebook.com/Dementia.Mama.Drama" target="_blank">Dementia-Mama-Drama</a></b></span></span></div><div style="font-family: "courier new";"><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Twitter:</span><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> </span><span style="color: blue; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: blue;"><a href="https://twitter.com/DementiaMama" target="_blank"><b>DementiaMama</b></a></span></span></div><div style="font-family: "courier new";"><div style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: #674ea7;">Instagram:</span><span> </span><b><a href="https://www.instagram.com/dementia_mama_drama/" target="_blank">Dementia-Mama-Drama</a></b></span></div></div></div>Vin @ Dementia-Mama-Dramahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06190736738357356959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1774291480170417816.post-5392035099080455612020-09-20T18:09:00.007-07:002020-09-21T16:08:24.746-07:00Magic of Music<p><span style="font-family: courier;">If all we really have are our memories, what happens when you no longer have any memories? Do you have nothing? No recollection or sense of yourself as a person? If music can spark a memory and make you have a sense of life and who you are, then isn’t music one of the most essential elements in the memory making process? Music <i>is</i> memories. Music makes you feel, it creates an energy, it sparks life and rhythm. I know this, I lived this.</span></p>
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<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier;">I’ve seen, heard and felt the magic of music and what it did for Mama. She’d start singing a song if she didn’t want to answer a question or just to change the subject. She became alive with music and magically her essence was revitalized. She remembered words to songs that I couldn't remember if I tried. We always sang even at the oddest times... during blood transfusions, in the ambulance and during her first (and only) plane ride.</span></p>
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<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier;">When Mama left this world Douglass and I had her favorite music playing, it was Judy Garland. I sang along as I held her hand. Music was her comfort zone and when she sang everyone around her felt good or smiled. We made sure Mama was in her comfort zone when she left us and of course it was on a high note from Judy. </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: courier;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-9Y_SB-P6Bj0/X2FOLlqLECI/AAAAAAAABdg/mGRibzMCFX04ZWRghMgNfSzV6iD8iE8JQCNcBGAsYHQ/Old%2BRadio%2Bnyc2vin.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div></span></div><div><span style="font-family: courier;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: courier;"><h4><b><span face="" style="font-size: medium;"><i><span style="font-family: courier;">Our book "Dementia-Mama-Drama" is now on</span><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;"> </span><a href="https://amzn.to/2WmtRai" style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;" target="_blank">Amazon Books</a><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;">.</span></i></span></b></h4><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier;"><br /></span></p><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: "courier new";"><span style="font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;"><i><span style="color: purple;"><b>You Can Also </b></span></i><i><span style="color: purple;"><b>Follow Us On</b></span></i></span></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: "courier new";"><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;">FACEBOOK:</span><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;"> </span><span style="color: blue; font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;"><span style="color: magenta;"><b><a href="http://facebook.com/Dementia.Mama.Drama" target="_blank">Dementia-Mama-Drama</a></b></span></span></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: "courier new";"><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;">TWITTER:</span><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;"> </span><span style="color: blue; font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;"><span><a href="https://twitter.com/DementiaMama" target="_blank"><b>DementiaMama</b></a></span></span></div><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier;"></span></p><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: "courier new";"><div style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;"><span style="color: #674ea7;">INSTAGRAM:</span> <a href="https://www.instagram.com/dementia_mama_drama/" target="_blank"><b>Dementia-Mama-Drama</b></a></span></div><div><br /></div></div></span></div>Vin @ Dementia-Mama-Dramahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06190736738357356959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1774291480170417816.post-86283849396856804522020-08-15T16:37:00.002-07:002020-09-21T16:09:45.819-07:00In The Beginning<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier;">Mama was able to fool all of us. We all thought she was fine, but the doctors and specialists knew better. They told me that my mother had dementia, she may appear to be alright, but had definite cognitive impairments. </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: courier;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier;">I didn’t want to hear it, I didn’t want to believe it. She knew who I was, she knew how to play cards, how to count and was able to carry on most conversations. Her sense of humor was still intact and joked about her aches and pains. She knew the words to almost every song she sang and if not, was always able to make the lyrics rhyme. So how could she have dementia? </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: courier;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1041" data-original-width="850" height="512" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3tEpE3FUi8Q/Xzhm9gpGaxI/AAAAAAAABcs/BNZQa6nJ7e0NKdd9GnXuYXixGFWuJStAwCNcBGAsYHQ/w418-h512/49-%2BMama%2B%2526%2BVin%2BOn%2BStairs%2Bnyc2vin%2Bcopy.jpg" width="418" /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier;">I tried not to believe the doctors, </span><span style="font-family: courier;">but deep down I knew something wasn’t right. I knew that after being discharged from her short term rehab, she wasn’t going to be able to go back home and live on her own ever again. I was scared, the reality was overwhelming and I had to make a lot of big decisions. </span><span style="font-family: courier;">I had to find a place for her to live and it had to be near me, after all I would be checking up on her and the staff everyday.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd8JaiD5V7P05vywIRXQXPsHDoLD-On1IJklGyXDbbp48QsZ7j5U4VMjebT2lj7NPx4lfap3GA9qBx8wsI2QtFBIdCWC2IN6_WRfLo1moA7ak7yl0Zwi4v3FZCG2EfEOoINGtm_SSjnLk/s1603/50-+Mama+%2526+Vin+At+Hudson+River+nyc2vin.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1603" data-original-width="1603" height="410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd8JaiD5V7P05vywIRXQXPsHDoLD-On1IJklGyXDbbp48QsZ7j5U4VMjebT2lj7NPx4lfap3GA9qBx8wsI2QtFBIdCWC2IN6_WRfLo1moA7ak7yl0Zwi4v3FZCG2EfEOoINGtm_SSjnLk/w410-h410/50-+Mama+%2526+Vin+At+Hudson+River+nyc2vin.jpeg" width="410" /></a></div><span style="font-family: courier;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier;">I made the best of a bad situation, but it wasn't always easy. I didn't realize it at the time, but that was the beginning of life as a caregiver.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier;"></span></p><h4 style="font-size: 16px;"><b><span face=""><i><span style="font-family: courier;">Our book "Dementia-Mama-Drama" is now on</span><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;"> </span><a href="https://amzn.to/2WmtRai" style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;" target="_blank">Amazon Books</a><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;">.</span></i></span></b></h4><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier;"><br /></span></p><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: "courier new";"><span style="font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;"><i><span style="color: purple;"><b>You Can Also </b></span></i><i><span style="color: purple;"><b>Follow Us On</b></span></i></span></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: "courier new";"><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;">Facebook:</span><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;"> </span><span style="color: blue; font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;"><span style="color: magenta;"><b><a href="http://facebook.com/Dementia.Mama.Drama" target="_blank">Dementia-Mama-Drama</a></b></span></span></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: "courier new";"><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;">Twitter:</span><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;"> </span><span style="color: blue; font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;"><span><a href="https://twitter.com/DementiaMama" target="_blank"><b>DementiaMama</b></a></span></span></div><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier;"></span></p><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: "courier new";"><div style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;"><span style="color: #674ea7;">Instagram:</span> <b><a href="https://www.instagram.com/dementia_mama_drama/" target="_blank">Dementia-Mama-Drama</a></b></span></div><div style="margin: 0px;"><br /></div></div>Vin @ Dementia-Mama-Dramahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06190736738357356959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1774291480170417816.post-91222862386372517932020-07-08T17:38:00.001-07:002020-09-21T16:11:23.036-07:00Day Care Dilemma<div style="font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
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<b style="color: #270e62; font-family: "courier new";"> What you may think is a good idea, doesn't always turn out that way. Sometimes caregiving is all about trial and error. </b><b style="caret-color: rgb(39, 14, 98); color: #270e62; font-family: "courier new";">I thought it would've been a good idea for Mama to get out of the nursing home a few times a week. But boy, was I wrong...</b></h4>
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<b><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><i> An excerpt from our book "Dementia-Mama-Drama" now on <a href="https://amzn.to/2WmtRai" target="_blank">Amazon Books</a>.</i></span></b></h4>
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<b style="color: #270e62; font-family: "courier new";"> I finally knew what it must have felt like for Mama to let go of her fat little crying boy and send him off to kindergarten. I had the same anxious feeling when I sent Mama to senior day care.</b></h4>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><b><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I thought it would have been a good change for Mama to get out of the nursing home a few times a week. She'd have a scenic ride in a van, be in a different environment, make new friends and engage in activities. These were things that she missed and complained about not having at the nursing home. I thought the perfect solution would be senior day care! Of course she took center stage and sang a song on her first day, just like I did on my first day of kindergaraten singing “Somewhere Over The Rainbow.” But that didn't last long, she gradually turned into the child I was in kindergarten. She would often get combative, refusing to go back to "school". The nursing home called me often to coax her into going since the van was waiting for her. This “perfect solution” was not working out so well <i>and</i> it was expensive. </b></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><b><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I tried reasoning with her repeatedly, but as time went by I realized that the bottom line was Mama needed her routine. She didn't like change, even though the nursing home was less than perfect. She complained that “there’s no life here and there’s nothing to do in this damn joint". It was easier for her to be there and complain, it was her comfort zone. </b></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><b><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>After a few months, I gave in to Mama just like she always gave into me as a child. I told her that she didn't have to go to day care again if she didn’t want to go back. When I said that, she seemed just as happy as I did when she told me I could miss a day from school. We spoiled each other. We were two of a kind and it came around full circle. </b></span></div>
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Vin @ Dementia-Mama-Dramahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06190736738357356959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1774291480170417816.post-15250470919357744172020-06-12T14:21:00.002-07:002020-09-21T16:12:48.577-07:00So Happy Together<div style="color: #3800e0; font-family: Courier; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
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<b><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><i>Here's an excerpt from our book "Dementia-Mama-Drama" now available on <a href="https://amzn.to/2WmtRai" target="_blank">Amazon Books</a>.</i></span></b></h4>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-kerning: none;"><b>Mama's Nursing Home was quarantined for nine days due to a flu virus outbreak. It was nine loooong daze! The few activities that had been scheduled stopped altogether. It left Mama with even MORE time on her hands and even LESS time being around others. This did not stop Douglass and me from visiting, even though visitors were "strongly discouraged.” We wore masks, just like the staff and residents. It looked and felt odd and Mama hated every minute of wearing a mask. </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; color: #3800e0; font-kerning: none;"><b>Mama:</b></span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><b> I had a crazy dream last night.</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; color: #3800e0; font-kerning: none;"><b>Douglass:</b></span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><b> What did you dream about?</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; color: #3800e0; font-kerning: none;"><b>Mama:</b></span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><b> I dreamt you got married.</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; color: #3800e0; font-kerning: none;"><b>Vin:</b></span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><b> Really? How was the wedding?</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; color: #3800e0; font-kerning: none;"><b>Mama:</b></span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><b> I said to you in my dream, what the hell are you getting married for? The three of us </b></span></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-kerning: none;"><b>are already <i>so</i> happy together.</b></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-kerning: none;"><b>Under my breath I said to Douglass “we told her we’re married, she must’ve forgot.”</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; color: #3800e0; font-kerning: none;"><b>Vin:</b></span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><b> Oh so now you're saying you're HAPPY? You</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-kerning: none;"><b>never say you’re happy, that's a first.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; color: #3800e0; font-kerning: none;"><b>Mama:</b></span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><b> Yeah I'll be HAPPY when I can go home! </b></span></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-kerning: none;"><b>Mama always talked about going home. Like many with Alzheimer's, she’d repeatedly say “I wanna go home, I wanna go home.” I'd tell her she sounded like Dorothy in "The Wizard of Oz,” she'd laugh and change the subject. I was never sure what she meant by home. Was it where she was born, her last apartment or New York? I always got a different answer, so I never knew.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; color: #3800e0; font-kerning: none;"><b>Douglass:</b></span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><b> So you’re not happy?</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; color: #3800e0; font-kerning: none;"><b>Mama: </b></span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><b>Well I’ll be happy when I can at least take this damn mask off and hear everything that you're saying. Everything is muffled and I can’t breathe. Everybody is wearing masks in this place, it’s crazy. I can’t take this anymore. Do me a favor, take this damn mask off me already and hand me my lipstick.</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><b>Ahhh yes, "sooo happy together"...</b></span></span><br />
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Vin @ Dementia-Mama-Dramahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06190736738357356959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1774291480170417816.post-53196899718083533912020-05-14T21:20:00.002-07:002020-09-21T16:17:42.916-07:00Mama, You're Such an Actress!<h3>
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<b><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I didn't realize it growing up but Mama always needed an audience. It became more obvious once she was in a nursing home. She would sing a song or tell a joke at the drop of a hat as long as someone was listening, and she made sure someone always was...</span></b></h4>
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<b><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><i>Here's an excerpt from our book "Dementia-Mama-Drama" now on <a href="https://amzn.to/2WmtRai" target="_blank">Amazon Books</a>.</i></span></b></h4>
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<b><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Ever since I can remember </span></b><b><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Mama was an actress. Well let's put it this way - she always gave me drama. From early on in life, her dream was to be an actress and a singer. The ironic thing is that <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Mama was always an actress... she </span></b><b><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">just didn't know it. And as far as singing, you couldn't shut her up once she started.</span></b></h4>
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<b><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Her audience changed over the years. First it was just family and friends, but as time went on anyone that met her became her audience. In her later years her fans were the nursing home staff, the residents and of course the readers of our blog.</span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></b><b><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: #351c75;">When people ask me if Mama was an actress, I gotta say yes. <span style="caret-color: rgb(53, 28, 117);">She</span> was the one who taught me "never share a spotlight or a microphone". My mother the actress who was always ready for her close up and her audience.</span></span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></b><b><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">One night as Douglass and I arrived at the nursing home we heard someone ranting rather loudly from down the hall, it was Mama! She was as I liked to call it “Anna-mated". Sometimes we knew what to expect when visiting and decided to play along joining the “Anna with a Z" show, after all she was the star.</span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></b><b><span style="color: blue; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Vin:</span><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> What are you doing? Are you an actress?</span></b><b><span style="color: blue; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: blue; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Mama:</span><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> Of course, I'm a CAREER actress!</span></b><b><span style="color: blue; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: blue; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Vin:</span><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> You're a career actress? Since when?</span></b><b><span style="color: blue; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: blue; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Mama:</span><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> Since I’ve been in this damn place. Ya gotta be an actress in here.</span></b><b><span style="color: blue; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: blue; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Vin:</span><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> What do you mean by that?</span></b><b><span style="color: blue; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: blue; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Mama:</span><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> Ya gotta be an actress here to get what you want, if you wanna get ANYTHING.</span></b><b><span style="color: blue; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: blue; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Vin:</span><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> Why do you say that?</span></b><b><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: blue;"><br /></span></span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: blue;">Mama:</span><span style="color: #351c75;"> They'd ignore you otherwise, so I scream and carry on. I’m a diva, damn it, I give drama! They should give me an award for the best actress.</span></span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="color: #351c75;"><br /></span></span></b><b><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> I couldn't have said it better myself. "And the Oscar goes to ..."</span></b><b><span style="color: #351c75;"><span style="color: #351c75;"><br /></span></span></b></h4>
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Vin @ Dementia-Mama-Dramahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06190736738357356959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1774291480170417816.post-61881449781158875992020-04-20T23:02:00.002-07:002020-09-21T16:18:45.422-07:00Grief Groups And Moving On<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b>I never thought I'd be one of those people who went to a grief group. I'm all for therapy, but didn't really get the need to be in a group to discuss a loss. Perhaps I didn't know enough about them, but I felt it was just another way of holding on and not moving on.</b></span><br />
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<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b>I know I needed a form of grief therapy after Mama passed and went to a one on one with open arms and bleeding heart. The next step was group therapy, but I was still hesitant about it... nevertheless a new experience. I needed closure and knew that I wasn't alone. I was totally cynical about "group" therapy. I pushed to join the first available group meeting because I wanted to feel better and move on! There was a wait list for the group... are you kidding me? That made me even more determined to get into the next group. Being relentless, I got into the group.</b></span><br />
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<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b>During the first meeting I was overly emotional almost from the start which surprised Mr Cynical. The weekly group meetings became a ritual and not alienating <i>(as I had thought)</i> but bringing a group of unlikely people together. Some were unprepared for their loved ones deaths, I was lucky that I knew it was coming. My yoga roots and experience were revisited in a different way by helping bring the group together through meditation and centering. I was surprised how I was able to return to Yoga after being away from it for a while, but then again I was moving on. After all Yoga is mind, body and spirit but I never thought I'd be using it as a tool while grieving.</b></span><br />
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<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b>Well like Mama would say "live and learn". I was an important part of a grief group and my preconceived ideas of it all had all changed. I'm lucky that I've maintained a few close relationships from the group over the years. It was an important experience I didn't think I needed but I'd recommend it to anyone who has gone through a loss. Keep an open mind and "try it you may like it", it's all part of moving on.</b></span><br />
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Vin @ Dementia-Mama-Dramahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06190736738357356959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1774291480170417816.post-63311258072128917602019-06-22T19:40:00.000-07:002019-06-22T19:40:39.129-07:00Moments of Pride<span style="color: #351c75; font-size: large;">June is a very special month for me for two reasons. It's Alzheimer's Awareness month <i>and</i> it's Gay Pride. Mama and I have always supported each other... we were proud of each other and were blessed!</span><br />
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<span style="color: #351c75; font-size: large;">She always accepted me for being myself... and she loved the New York Gay Pride Parade. She would sit outside the nursing home and engage with "her audience". She loved the attention <i>(no surprise) </i>and they enjoyed her bawdy sense of humor!</span><br />
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<span style="color: #351c75; font-size: large;">As <a href="https://www.alz.org/" target="_blank">Alzheimer's</a> caregivers we were there with Mama for many years and made her smile and sing. <i>Did I say sing? </i>Yes, she sang for anyone <i>and</i> everyone. It was great therapy for all of us... it got us through a lot of rough times (and there were plenty).</span><br />
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<span style="color: #351c75; font-size: large;">It's June again and during this month when it's <a href="https://2019-worldpride-stonewall50.nycpride.org/events/" target="_blank">Gay Pride's 50th Anniversary</a> I know that many other Gay caregivers are with their loved one and who knows... they might just be singing "Over the Rainbow".</span><br />
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<br />Vin @ Dementia-Mama-Dramahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06190736738357356959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1774291480170417816.post-77564258184506261042018-07-10T20:51:00.001-07:002018-07-10T20:51:07.993-07:00Sometimes Ya Need A BreakBeing caregivers for Mama for so many years has taken a toll, so we needed a little break. A time to pause, reevaluate and gather our thoughts so that we could help other caregivers and continue her story.<br />
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Caregiving 101 was like second nature to me. I knew myself and Mama <i>too</i> well, we were both drama queens - highly emotional without <i>any</i> filters. If I wasn't feeling 100 percent, I knew I couldn't give 100 percent. I knew we had to distract Mama to make everyone happy... or at least get through it.<br />
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When we were caregivers there weren't many resources available to us. We were pioneers on a new territory, so we went with our feelings and what worked best for us. Men weren't the typical caregivers, let alone a Gay couple. Many times we did what was <i>not</i> suggested by the professionals, but back then <b>we</b> knew what worked for Mama... <i>and</i> us.<br />
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We used music, humor, pampering and pet therapy before it became "a thing". We took videos and photos before most did this <i>(she wasn't happy unless the camera was on her).</i> It became a therapy that worked for all of us. Mama always wanted her story told. She didn't really care which story it was - she had many (remember I did say she was a drama queen). Lo and behold, <a href="https://www.facebook.com/SomeOfTheseDaze/" target="_blank">"Some Of These Daze"</a> was born. It's a play we worked on with Mama and will continue to develop until her story <i>has</i> been told.<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ur2pjY92XXQ/VMr2TcvYYAI/AAAAAAAAA_8/bUD-chweVdE/s1600/SOTD%2BPurple%2BTee.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="120" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ur2pjY92XXQ/VMr2TcvYYAI/AAAAAAAAA_8/bUD-chweVdE/s200/SOTD%2BPurple%2BTee.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<br />Vin @ Dementia-Mama-Dramahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06190736738357356959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1774291480170417816.post-18993071605664197762017-08-12T13:58:00.000-07:002017-08-12T13:58:46.408-07:00Humor and Music Got Us Thru<span style="color: #351c75;"><span style="display: inline; float: none; font-family: "comicsansms"; font-size: 18px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">I was asked by Precious Limson to be part of an article she was writing for <a href="http://myangelshomecare.com/" target="_blank">My Angel's Homecare</a> along with a few other caregivers. My story was featured in the article "The Truth About Alzheimer's Disease Through the Eyes of a Home Caregiver". Reading about the differences in our stories showed that there are many ways of dealing with Alzheimer's. </span></span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pW3FRezkOhI/WY9W1954YnI/AAAAAAAABRA/k94dhK3Gz7w-jUe6tlpmdTdKOpJvdSKsACK4BGAYYCw/s1600/cr%2BTwistedTrio%2BBlk%2BSOTD.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pW3FRezkOhI/WY9W1954YnI/AAAAAAAABRA/k94dhK3Gz7w-jUe6tlpmdTdKOpJvdSKsACK4BGAYYCw/s320/cr%2BTwistedTrio%2BBlk%2BSOTD.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #351c75;"><span style="display: inline; float: none; font-family: "comicsansms"; font-size: 18px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">This disease affects everyone - the patient, the family and society. It's not a cookie cutter disease and there are hundreds of unique stories out there... we all deal with it in our own way. Although we did <i>not</i> just "live and laugh because we knew it would all be fine", we did use humor and music to help us "deal with our daily dose of dementia". </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #351c75;"><span style="display: inline; float: none; font-family: "comicsansms"; font-size: 18px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">Here's the link to the article: </span><a href="http://myangelshomecare.com/the-truth-about-alzheimers/" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: ComicSansMS; font-size: 18px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;">http://myangelshomecare.com/the-truth-about-alzheimers/</a><span style="display: inline; float: none; font-family: "comicsansms"; font-size: 18px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">.</span></span><br />
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Vin @ Dementia-Mama-Dramahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06190736738357356959noreply@blogger.com0