Four Insights for Connecting with Cooking

“Mom, are you ready to help me make your famous meatloaf recipe?’ Stacy asked. Stacey was in town for the weekend, visiting her mom, Alice, and giving her sister a break from caregiving.

Stacy had wanted to take Alice out to eat, but her sister told her, “Mom can get pretty overwhelmed and confused when she’s around a lot of people. Why don’t you stay home and cook with her?”

Her sister was a nurse and seemed at ease with Alice’s diminished memory. But Stacy bit her lip when her sister suggested cooking.

“Think of a family recipe,” her sister advised. “Get all the ingredients organized beforehand and make sure the room is quiet and Mom has a comfortable chair. Once Mom gets started, she can do quite a bit. Just don’t rush her.”

It just so happened Stacy had been craving her mother’s famous meatloaf. That evening, she watched the news while she laid out the bowls, utensils, and ingredients on the table.

“A feast!” Alice exclaimed, as she shuffled into the kitchen. Stacy clicked off the television and said, “It will be a feast, Mom. It’s your meatloaf recipe. Will you help me make it?”

“You used to help me. In Provincetown,” Alice said.

Stacy’s eyes misted. Sometimes her mom didn’t seem to know who Stacy was and when that happened, Stacy could barely breathe.

“You stood on a chair,” her mom said.

“Wearing Grandma’s apron.” Stacy could see the apron, a frilly flowered chintz with a red ribbon sash.

“This is your grandmother’s recipe,” Alice said. “She lived in Boston, you know, with her older sister.” As she reminisced, Alice cracked and whipped the egg. Then she poured the mixture onto the beef and blended it in with her hands. She sprinkled the breadcrumbs into the meat, added a handful of her secret ingredient—raisins– and plenty of pepper, then mixed it all together.

Stacy gave her mother the pan and Alice expertly shaped the loaf. Then she noticed her messy hands and wiped them on her slacks. “Am I eating dinner with you? Where is the other one?”

“She is out with friends tonight. And yes, you are eating dinner with me.”

“What time will your father get here?”

Stacy looked carefully at her widowed mom and wondered what she should answer.

“It’s just you and me tonight, Mom.”

“Don’t forget the parsley,” Alice said.

While the meatloaf cooked, Stacy brought over some bread dough she’d thawed earlier. Alice had been a phenomenal baker and Stacy still remembered the scintillating taste of her mom’s cinnamon rolls. When Alice saw the dough, she began to knead it. As she kneaded, she talked about the types of bread she’d made when she was a girl. “Even sourdough,” Alice said. “Our cousin brought a starter from San Francisco and we were all a buzz.”

“Which cousin, Mom?”

“Oh that Gertrude. You remember her, always dolled up and always flirting with the men. But she could bake a good dinner roll.”

“What was your favorite thing to bake?”

Alice slid her hands over the rolling pin and rolled the dough thin. Then she tore it into little tadpole shapes, one of their favorite childhood treats.

“Remember, Stacy doesn’t like hers burned,” her mom cautioned.

Stacy smiled.

Even though her mother ate little and fell asleep at the dinner table, Stacy felt like the evening was a success.

“Cooking together can help family members connect in the kitchen,” says Kate Williams, LMSW,Care Counselor/Social Worker, Henry Ford Health System Collaborative, Alzheimer’s Association Greater Michigan Chapter. “The act of preparing food can draw on long term memory and trigger activities people have done in the past.”

Since the care partner needs to make meals anyway, working together offers a low-stress way to accomplish a task and a chance to relive family and food memories. People want to be useful and have a purpose; Kate believes creating food for and with someone meets that need.

For a successful cooking experience, Kate offers these tips:

· When designing cooking activities, consider the person and their current skills. Make sure the number of steps is appropriate to his or her level of memory loss.

· Give them as much independence as possible and be ready to help as needed.

· Create an environment with few distractions.

· Prepare the food and cooking utensils, so everything is at the ready. If possible, using the same type of equipment they used in the past.

Even for those who can’t really follow directions, the sensory experience of handling food can be connective and comforting. Cooking projects engage the senses, invite memories, offer a sense of completion and purpose, and are nurturing for both care partners.

Deborah Shouse is the author of Love in the Land of Dementia: Finding Hope in the Caregiver’s Journey.

Rhymes that Resonate: Four Steps for Connecting Through Poetry

The audience was quiet, partially because some of the people were slumped over in their wheelchairs, eyes closed. Gary Glazner stood in front of the group, wondering if he could engage them. He had received a grant to offer a poetry workshop in a memory care unit and he had carefully selected several familiar poems. He’d introduced himself to everyone and he was ready to inspire people through reading poetry. But were they ready for him? He took a breath and began.

“I shot an arrow into the air,” Gary said to the seemingly comatose group.

“And it fell down I know not where,” said an elderly man without even raising his head.

That was the beginning spark for Gary Glazner’s Alzheimer’s Poetry Project. He created this process, which includes reading aloud and discussing poetry, to engage people living with dementia.

“There are four steps to the process,” Gary explains. “First, a call and response, where I read a line of poetry and the group echoes it. Then we discuss the poem. Next, we add props to the experience and finally we create our own poem.”

A few of the familiar poems Gary uses include:

The Tyger—William Blake

The Owl and the Pussy Cat—Edward Lear

Wynken, Blynken, and Nod—Eugene Field

How do I Love Thee?—Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Purple Cow—Gelette Burgess

Jabberwocky—Lewis Carroll

Daffodils—William Wordsworth

His website, www.alzpoetry.com, is brimming with verse and rich with recommendations.

Gary has shared poetry with people living with dementia all over the world. His usual session lasts around an hour. He often centers his poems on a theme, such as Summer, Birds, Trees, or Food, and enriches the gathering with objects that engage the senses. For example, to supplement summer-time poetry, he might include a bucket of sand and a conch shell. He brings a misting spray to simulate an ocean breeze and lets people smell suntan lotion. For refreshments, he suggests fresh strawberries, lemonade, popsicles, or homemade ice cream. This four-step poetry process also works at home with just two care partners

“Poetry goes beyond the autobiographical memory and offers care partners a way to communicate with someone who has memory loss,” Gary says.

For more information on Gary and the Alzheimer’s Poetry Project, visit www.alzpoetry.com.

Gary’s book is a great resource: Dementia Arts: Celebrating Creativity in Elder Care

Deborah Shouse is the author of Love in the Land of Dementia: Finding Hope in the Caregiver’s Journey.

Stepping into Your Own Caregiving Pilgrimage

“For me there is only the traveling on paths that have heart…and the only worthwhile challenge is to traverse its full length–and there I travel looking, looking breathlessly.” Carlos Castaneda

I love this image of looking breathlessly: so many times during our pilgrimage through dementia with my mother and later with Ron’s parents, we had that spark of wonder and connection that transcended all else.

Of course, other times we felt like we’d lost the path and were disconnected from our creative selves. During such times of uncertainty and struggle, I like to seek out inspiring people. I recently had the privilege of interviewing two such women and I wanted to share the experience with you.

Please click here  and join Maggie Finefrock and Lydia Smith on a fascinating spiritual pilgrimage. Then take their tips and create your own “everyday” pilgrimage.

 

“Your soul knows the geography of your destiny and the map of your future. Trust this side of yourself. It will take you where you need to go but it will also teach you a kindness of rhythm in your journey.” John O’Donohue Wisdom

Deborah Shouse is the author of Love in the Land of Dementia: Finding Hope in the Caregiver’s Journey.

Cooking up New Connections

This appeared in the Kansas City Star on Monday, November 24th.

A version of this story will appear in Deborah’s next book:  Creativity in the Land of Dementia: Finding Inspiration in the Care Partner’s Journey 

Cooking up new connections

By DEBORAH SHOUSE

Special to The Star

The dread seized me in early October.
Thanksgiving was normally my favorite holiday, and I had always looked forward to seeing my parents from Memphis and my brother and his family from Chicago. But the year my mother showed up without her famous butterscotch brownies, bourbon balls and date crumbs, I understood that her dementia was progressing and everything was changing.
Instead of working beside my brother and me in the kitchen, instead of laughingly (and bossily) setting the table with me, Mom huddled on the sofa, next to Dad, loath to let him out of her sight. She turned to him for everything: to explain the food on her plate, to remind her of our names and to reassure her that he’d be right there beside her. Her vulnerability and confusion were devastating, and I’d felt exhausted, lonely and weepy the whole long weekend.
I felt alone, but of course I wasn’t: There were 15 million family/friend caregivers helping the 5 million Americans who have dementia.
The next holiday season, I vowed things would be different. I would find ways to engage Mom so she could contribute to the meal. My brother Dan was head cook and I was a sous chef, so I decided to involve Mom with my vegetable preparation.

Join us in the kitchen for the rest of the story :  http://www.kansascity.com/living/family/article4045762.html 

Deborah Shouse is the author of Love in the Land of Dementia: Finding Hope in the Caregiver’s Journey.

The Power of Ones: Three Simple Intentions to Light up the New Year

One Nurturing Bite

Ron looked over at me as I took a bite of my Coconut Bliss chocolate vegan ice cream.

“Can you help me fold the laundry?” he asked.

“I’ll help soon. But right now, I’m pursuing my goals.”

He raised his eyebrows and I pointed to my ice cream bowl.

Yes, dear reader, I had wisely set a goal at the beginning of summer to eat ice cream.

(And I know vegan ice cream probably may not sound good to you, but this brand is actually delicious!)

Usually my goals have to do with self-improvement or helping others. But something whimsical and self-nurturing popped into my mind when I stated my summer goal in front of a group of family and friends in laMay. I have never had a more delicious goal. I have never been more pleased to sit down and work on my goal. Now, I’m trying to decide, what is my goal for this glorious New Year?

One Wonderful Moment

My friend, author and psychologist Karen Rowinsky, has given me a terrific idea. Last year she created a “Wonderful Moments Jar.” Every time she had a joyful or meaningful experience, she jotted it down on a scrap of paper and tucked it into her designated jar. At the end of the year, she read through all her moments and had a deep sense of joy and connection.

I’ve already started my 2014 jar. Just giving myself the invitation to record wonderful moments is already making me more conscious of the every day blessings.

One Meaningful Action

Another friend, Joanne Stout, inspired me with her intentions for this year. She wrote:

1.  Take an action that makes a difference, no matter how small, in someone’s life

2.  Take an action that makes a difference, no matter how small, in your own life.  I find that number one triggers number two.

One with Wondering

I am stepping into this year with these small but mighty intentions. For me, they enrich both life and of caregiving:  nurturing yourself; noticing the gifts in the moment; and reaching out to make a difference.

I’m always ready to add to my list of “one-derment.” What are your intentions for this year?

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