Lynne remembered her mother put up Christmas decorations every December 1. A favorite of Lynne’s was the Mrs. Santa Claus doll. Mrs. Clause was the first decoration of many I’ll bring during December.
Eric Larsen, MD Kaiser Permanente Health Research Institute says indelible memories in the first 20 years can be enjoyed the rest of our lives. “We should strive to treasure the miraculous ability of the brain to hold onto the past as well as it does.”
Christmas decorations from the family are a good way to do that in December.
Nancy a friend of my daughter Lynne, sent me the book Female Firebrands by Mikaela Kiner, CEO of reverbpeople.com, and a Microsoft alumnus like Lynne and Nancy. Luna, the Care Director estimated Lynne showed her the book 20 times to open and read a paragraph. The subtitle is Stories and Techniques to Ignite Change, Take Control, and Succeed in the workplace. Lynne seems to doing that in her memory care unit. Thanks, Nancy and Mikaela Kiner
Aegis reported they kicked off the week before Thanksgiving with a little fun in memory care. The Health Service Director dressed up as a Turkey and spent some time with Lynne and other residents. Lynne’s the one on the left in the photo. 😊 Holiday decorations should keep up the spirits during the upcoming “Week of Thanksgiving.” Staff will deliver different types of deserts for the residents and visitors every day on the Outdoor Living. Lynne has been active with weights, a hair cut and shampoo and outdoor walks. One day, she came back from her walk and entered the daily stand-up staff meeting. They were pleased to see her and gave her a chair. Lynne’s still caring for staff. She saw a caregiver have an incident with a difficult resident and said to her, “You’re having a bad day.” A nurse told me about another bad day for Lynne. A resident hit her in the chest, hard enough to have her chest looked at, but there wasn’t a visible injury. When she was shaken by another incident she witnessed, caregivers led her onto her bike. After she pedaled herself into recovery, they asked Alexa to play Madonna so they could dance with her until she felt safe and settled. Caregivers continuously resolve such disturbing behaviors. We have a lot to be thankful for, including caregivers in tune with Lynne during the loneliness on holidays. Bless them.
Aegis reviews Lynne’s behavioral symptoms quarterly. Her sleep patterns were disturbed by the switch to standard time and the increase in nighttime. The medical director prescribed medications for longer and more regular sleep.
Lynne repeats herself, called looping, about every 30 seconds when she initiates conversations. She waits outside the care director’s office for her to come back rather than sit with other people. They’ve had another COVID case on her floor, so she’s in lockdown again. She often calls me to say it’s difficult.
I said recently, “Well of course it’s hard honey, you have a disease, Alzheimer’s.”
She said, “I do? Maybe that’s what it is.”
Now I use short sentences to tell her stories of current events, even the election, or long-term memories of her boys, her mom, her friends. If we meet in Outdoor Living, I’ll bring her a vanilla milkshake from Dick’s Burger’s. She thanks me, listens, comments appropriately, and searches for words to add something. She’s very pleasant most of the time. When her mind wanders after 20 minutes, I ask her if it’s time to go.
Lynne and I wanted to give Aunt Jane a birthday present on her 82nd birthday. She is my sister and Lynne’s cherished Aunt who had the courage to throw off society’s expectations of housewives, and serve the under privileged. She lobbied for compassionate legislation for children with handicaps in Colorado, lived with children in impoverished orphanages in Mexico, counseled Guatemalan refugees who fled the genocides in Guatemala until she returned with them broker peaceful returns to distrusting survivors. Along with those missions, she inspired her entire family to reunite and embrace her independence. I gave Lynne the phone so she could sing happy birthday to her while I shouted it through the plexiglass in the Aegis Outdoor Living Room. Then Lynne had a private conversation with her. Jane is a talker. Lynne is a listener. She focused on every word. I heard Lynne’s responses: “Oh, yeah.” I’m not sure.” “Well, I have a lot of friends here.” “It is what it is.” “I can see family.” “I get out and do things.” “I’m never sure.” “They have us do things, you know.” Suddenly Lynne said, “Oh, no!” She put her hand over the phone and said to me, “Cat broke her toe.” Cat is Lynne’s cousin, a nurse. I asked, “Is she still working?” “Oh yes.” Finally, she tired and handed the phone back to me. Jane said, “We had a great conversation. She’s handling it so well, accepting what is.” And that inspiration was another gift Lynne gave Aunt Jane. And me. And everyone.
Lynne can still laugh, even at my jokes. “Lynne, everybody loves you. Everybody — well, maybe your little sister didn’t like you for a while.” “Lynne, you don’t have to wear a mask over your mouth while we’re on a video chat with me. I don’t have Covid.” Lynne liked a new headband Edith gave her. I thought Edith made them and called her, but she purchased six different headbands for delivery to me. I’m giving them to Lynne one at a time. I reminded her she was wearing one from Edith. She laughed. “That’s Edith.” Henrik and I bought her a pumpkin and Honeycrisp apples. She wants the pumpkin to have a smiley face. She likes fresh Honeycrisp apples, so I cut one into small bites for her. She ate them while we video chatted. She had to leave the chat to wash her sticky hands. I didn’t tell her Henrik and I picked them fresh on our annual trip to Bellwood Farms in Bellingham with Keith’s family. She called one day and said, “Okay, I’m not going to cry.” We turned on her echo to play Lyle Lovett and she got on her bike to pedal. She said that was better. I’ve added treats to Lynne’s daily Starbucks and trail mix. Friends and family send me books and I deliver them one at a time, because we have not been able to confirm she gets books sent to her address. She had Where the Lost Wander by Amy Harmon when Keith visited through plexiglass. She can read pictures better than words now. Edith delivered one, titled: This Book Is Literally Just Pictures of Cute Animals That Will Make You Feel Better, edited by Smith Street Books. She laughed and shook her head, “That’s, Edith.” I give Lynne copies of photographs of her boys and family. She says, “I just want to be with my boys more.” Luna, the Director of Caregiving, has fun with her. She said, “Lynne was sitting outside my door one day. I said come on in. She laughs a lot. One day Lynne told me she was done working for the day and was ready to go home. She is the number one resident caregiver at Aegis.” Of course, Luna and caregivers are having fun with her. That’s who she is. I loved her hearty laugh when we ate, sat, read, hugged, talked, celebrated, kicked a pink soccer ball, walked the neighborhood, or arboretum, or waterfront on Lake Washington. And I know caregivers are solving problems. Lynne ended another chat with, “Dad, I have to go now because I’m having a problem with my bra.” Luna told me she’s pulling her bra down around her waist. It makes her extremely uncomfortable, so Luna ordered two camisoles. Luna also alerted me that Lynne cycled through a conversation last week — eight to ten times in a few minutes. She’s started picking at her food. I tell myself it’s fair for Aegis caregivers to have most of the fun because they’re caring for her the most. I tell myself that when I miss her the most.
Lynne’s joyous on her first ride with her stationary bike. You can hear Dad cheering from her Facebook portal and the caregiver urging her on. Special thanks to the concierge last night after I told her the bike had been assembled for use. She immediately went to the basement immediately and wheeled it up to Lynne’s room while the caregiver covered the concierge desk. Oh, joy!
Aegis reduced its quarantine restrictions allowing caregivers to accompany Lynne on walks as many as three times per day. She’s active, so the floor supervisor gave her a fourth walk one day. Our family ordered a stationary bike for her room, where riding it would lift her spirits during Seattle’s oncoming cold, rainy weather and future lockdowns. She and staff were happy when I printed a picture for them. That picture lifted my spirits before it arrived. I scheduled an Outdoor living room visit where we could talk through plexiglass shields. I showed her a heartwarming video of a Labrador mother using her paw to protect her last puppy from being adopted. Lynne’s vision has declined so she used her finger to focus on it. “What is it? Is it mine? Is it a puppy? Is it mine?” “No, it’s just a funny video.” I wondered if she thought it was her dog. She stood up, disappointment draining the smile off her face. “It’s not mine?” She started to sob. She had said she wanted a dog earlier that month, but we had told her that wasn’t possible. “Honey you can’t have a dog up on your floor.” She sobbed as she stared at me and backed in and out of the curtains twice, sobbing harder. She staggered toward the front door and hit the windows again as she backed away from me. I stood up wondering what I could do. A caregiver came out quickly to comfort her as she guided her back inside. I told them it was about a puppy. I was sad and miserable. How could I have forgotten she wanted a dog? Very soon I got a text message. They had redirected her to the picture of the bike. “She’s fine now.” I was too. Caregiving is a long, bumpy ride.
Lynne called last night at 10 pm, melancholy without tears. “Not sure if I can do this.”“Sure, you can. Your Grammy Helen did it. Once you get through this part, you’ll be happy. Grammy Helen was happy.” “Yes, she was.” Pam had phoned me about her video chat with Lynne when her boys joined in. We reminisced about Pam’s plight inhaling wildfire smoke in California. I asked her about the boys. “They’re doing fantastic,” she said. I told her I caught an overthrown hardball at Miller Park with my bare left hand and tossed it back. The young men on the teams cheered. “You the man.” One ran over with the ball, “Sign this.” I didn’t have a pen, so I bumped his ball with my fist. I told Lynne, “If I’d had a pen, I could have signed it as Dan Wilson. And the next time I saw him, I’d have to tell him his legend grew at Miller Park.” She laughed. “He’d have given it to you.” We paused. She took a deep breath, “I’m not sure I can do this.” “Sure you can. Your first job is get some sleep.” “I can do that.” She headed for bed in her clothes. “You should turn off the light.” She looked for it on the blank wall next to her shelves. “Lindy, I think the switch is by the door.” “Oh yea.” She walked away from the Facebook Portal screen and I saw the bathroom light turn on and off. She walked back to her bed and climbed in. I called out, “Good night.” “Good night.” I called the concierge who promised to have someone help her get some sleep.
I interviewed Candy, a friend of Lynne’s about their time together at the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation in 1996. I am grateful for her memories full of Lynne’s fun and professional skills. I sent her an image of an article about recruiting talent for the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation published in the Seattle Times on October 17, 1996 Titled, “Want to Work for Gates?” The front page was in a 11 x 17 picture frame with a photograph of recent hires when the foundation was rapidly expanding from an influx of donations. The frame was given to Lynne when she retired from the foundation to work as a special education teacher. The back of the frame was filled with farewells and signatures of her fellow workers.
Candy asked how to contact Lynne for a video chat. Lynne’s phone messages show Candy called later that afternoon at 1:27, 1:28, 1:35 and 1:35. Lynne missed each of those calls. Candy’s persistent. She called the next day at 3:06 pm and missed her, and finally connected at 4:02 pm for a 23 minute and 50 second phone call.
Candy sent me this email, which is how I discovered she’d dedicated herself to connect with Lynne while she still remembers:
“I talked to Lynne via video chat today. It was so great. She remembered me well and was really present and we reminisced about old times. I’ll call her once a week and told her she can call me at any time.
Once they open on the CV19 restrictions, I’ll do walks with her and go visit.
Thank you, thank you for this re-connection. In gratitude, Candy.”
As Lynne’s dad, I’m unable to resurrect those intimate stories that still exist in the great majority of Lynne’s long term memory. I’m thrilled she can share good times in normal conversations with friends. I thanked Candy for her persistence I replied, “That’s as good as it gets for me right now. Thanks for letting me know.”
I asked it I could share this and she said, “Happy for you to do so.”