It is one thing to teach about the grieving process of dementia. It is another to live it. Earlier today, I called my brother in France to discuss my upcoming trip to visit my mom there.  He updated me on her status. “I have noticed she has really deteriorated mentally. She thought I was.

I remember the distressing phone conversations with my mother, every day, at the same time, around 5 or 6 in the evening. Her stories would vary, but the terror remained constant. There were anonymous callers, knocks on her window, suspicious burnt marks on her dresser, important papers missing, . . . . Her much.

A friend just sent me the link to new research from a team of Japanese researchers on ‘head-turning sign’ (HTS) and its potential link with Alzheimer’s. Here is the abstract: Aims To investigate the incidence and severity of the ‘head-turning sign’ (HTS), i.e. turning the head back to the caregiver(s) for help, in patients.

Five minutes in the day, that’s not very much, is it? Five minutes, that’s all it takes to give the mind a chance to settle a bit before the day starts. It goes like this. Finding a quiet place, and a chair to sit. Taking an alert and at same time relaxed posture, feet.

She was sitting quietly in front of her half empty plastic plate, hands laying obediently on top of her pink apron. Would she like me to help her with eating? Yes, she let me know, real loud. I had watched the aides feed her before, and I assumed she needed my full assistance. Pureed.

She does not speak words, only screams whenever she needs something. I introduce myself and ask if I may join her for a bit. She responded with a piercing gaze, not leaving my eyes for a second. I wondered if I may hold her hand. She did not blink and continued to engage me..

I catch her as she is finishing her late breakfast. Cold scrambled eggs, and pieces of  what looks like French toast. She eats very slowly, closing her eyes with each bite, and turning the food in her mouth, many times before swallowing. “May I sit with you?” I wonder. She utters words that I.

Amazing things can happen with folks who are living with dementia. They can start speaking intelligible words after months of muteness. They can start relating and smiling again. They can move their previously frozen limbs. They can sing entire songs. They can show flashes of insight. So many possible surprises. However, the conditions have.

From a Presence Care training I recently gave at Kimochi Senior Center in San Francisco Japantown, this quote shared by one of the elders there: Shitaka ga nai (You can’t help it) How many of us act according to this simple, yet very profound truth?.