Having a parent with dementia is like riding a bike with an irreversible leak in one of the tires.  Only it’s a tire you can’t change.  And you can’t patch the leak.  Slowly, daily, the life you have always known is slipping away from you. You must keep pedaling, keep living, but there’s nothing you can do to fix it.  
 
I am never quite sure what I will find when I call my mom’s room in the nursing home. Some days, my mom is her normal sweet self. And other days, although she always still recognizes my voice, she is disoriented. And her aphasia has her saying things that just don’t make sense. The hardest part is that this could go on for years. 
 
Compound this with COVID. There was a case on her floor, so she is in quarantine for two weeks as per Massachusetts, despite having been twice vaccinated. Some of the staff (I discovered in a lucid call yesterday) have been sarcastic and disrespectful to her.  I have called her nursing home (literally) fifteen times in the last 22 hours to address this, mostly talking to answering machines of administrators who don't call back.  I will prevail until solutions are found.  Hell hath no fury like the daughter of a scorned mother. Two weeks to the day after my second vaccination I will fly out to see her, and will be there for Mother’s Day. 
 
For the first time, I missed my blog deadline last week, and a zoom meeting I had set up with friends.  I’m abnormally distracted.  Having parents whose health is failing is a low level constant stress, like pedaling a bike with flat tires.  I don’t like to talk about it, or even think about it, but it’s exhausting. My friend Molly, whose mother has full-blown dementia, found out in neurosurgeon Sanjay Gupta’s latest book Keep Sharp that when you are the primary 24/7 caretaker of a dementia patient (usually a parent) your likelihood of getting dementia skyrockets unless you take daily action ASAP. I'm not even the primary caretaker, but the disease casts a malaise on all the involved and concerned.
 
On the bright side, having kids later in life means that my waking hours (when not calling the nursing home) are filled with hustle & bustle and LIFE!  Our first week back at brick and mortar school has meant that we bike daily (we share shifts with a very hip neighbor mom). There’s been play dates, new swim lessons, playing catch (Ty has his first little league game tomorrow, with Jory as his coach. And he was put on the Red Sox. Hallelujah!), theater group, girl drama (realllllly??), vocal coaching, book group fun, delight with teachers, dinner celebrations, and the weekly spelling test to conquer.

Add to this the joy of dear friends Mary Clark and Lauri Lee, who are daily cheering me on to seven hours a week spent writing my book. It is ON. Full ON.
 
Combine that with biggest highlight of things opening up: friends from Los Angeles coming to visit. Uncle John Maraffi flew out for an amazing outdoor Easter dinner and kept us all entertained for days. Our dear friends Lauren and Austin Fite stopped by en route to Tennessee. We shared brunch, stories and many many laughs. Lauren asked if I missed LA. I honestly hadn’t focused on that, so my first answer was, “Well, the ocean…”. But as they drove off, I realized with great sadness that what I most miss from LA are friends like the Fites.  They are family to us now, as we’ve grown together and have gone through so much over the years.
 
A place is ultimately always the people who inhabit it, isn’t it?  
 
Thankfully, we’ve started to make remarkable friends here (one of whom, Marcia Gordon, is my Monday yoga buddy and joined us for Easter dinner.  We met through a mutual friend – in LA.).  
 
Canadian author Anthony Douglas Williams’ words are so true: “Mingle often with Good People to Keep Your Soul Nourished.” How starved our COVID-weary souls are!! 
 
Our old friends who become family keep us young, and it is our new friends who keep us current.  Here's to both!

This past week was unremitting.  Exhausting.
Jory had business in Los Angeles, and all three kids were on spring break.  Non-stop.
 
On top of that, what's been really hard is that my mom is not progressing as hoped in rehab after her hip surgery. In fact, a new environment and schedule has triggered her dementia.  This has meant many many many daily phone calls (to her, Dad, Rehab place, nearby friends) and texts (to siblings).
 
Aging takes its toll - on all of us. Simply put, what is not growing EVERY DAY is withering, whether it be our muscles, our balance, our mind, our courage, our emotional capacity or our very spirit.  
 
This past week has made me think hard about how best to maximize and celebrate the time I have left on this earth.  Simply put, as I am dealing with numerous conditions that my parents are suffering from, I’ve felt discouraged, sad and helpless (hence the delay in my blog).  I cannot change their lives. I can only become proactive in my own in a way I wish they had in theirs. 
 
After much reflection, I've decided I want to continually engage in and grow in (the below) five areas. I'm not implying that focusing thusly will eradicate suffering, loss, and hardship as I age. All of that is part of life, which we are here to fully experience.  Instead, I believe investing in these areas will infuse my life with greater quality and joy. 

Thankfully, I am lucky to have friends who show me, through own examples of going above and beyond, how best to navigate these crucial areas: 

1. Nutrition:  It’s the metaphorical gas and oil in our cars.  Sugar and carbs (especially gluten) don’t result just in weight gain but, from middle-age on, in inflammation, memory fog and all sorts of trouble. My friend (and former next door neighbor) Leah Ruiz has introduced me over the years to intermittent fasting, ketogenic eating, hormone education, and neurologist Dr. David Perlmutter. When I stray from these, I always feel the need to go back to them.
2. Exercise: Stretching, strength, cardio – mix them up and repeat.  Pick one daily. Here, my friend Janine Lichstein is a stellar role model.  We used to take the same yoga class at our trendy Santa Monica gym.  Then, as a former dancer, Janine became certified to teach yoga in her 60s (!). Now, a few years later, she takes me and other friends through an amazing stretch and strength hour-and-a-half class every Monday on zoom. (She asks for donations to benefit a cause dear to her heart: Didi Hersch).  While I am about 20 years younger than most participants, it’s a workout! (I’m on mute as I’m groaning at some point in every class – LOL).  Janine also teaches two beginner zoom yoga classes a week, in addition to a host of other activities (see #5).  Not a bad way to spend your 70s. 
3. Friendships – In my 20s, I was a Teaching Assistant in the USC Film School for a directing class that collaborated with theater students (ie: actors). The Theater School didn’t have the budget to provide the Theater Professor with a TA, but the Theater Professor appropriated me anyway.  And thus began a life-long friendship.  Eve Roberts, then 65, went out of her way to become my friend.  She told me that as I age, I would grow to rely on the friendships of my contemporaries, but that I need to also actively cultivate friendships with people of all ages, especially younger than myself.  In her 70s and 80s, Eve showed me that her same-age friendships became consumed with illness and people dying, and that she needed friends like me (then in my 30s and 40s) to help her maintain a new outlook on life and stay relevant. She advised me not just to rely on my kids. At 91 and 52, Eve and I are still in touch.  Thanks to Eve, I have made a point of building friendships with a few of the favorite kids I used to tutor, all now in their 20s (the same age I was when I met Eve).  Another Eve gem: seek out the really positive and fun CAN-DO people.  Be selective. 
4. Art/Self-Expression – For creatives, having the courage to dive in to your art and take it to the next level – be it art, music, writing, editing, designing, knitting, gardening – is a game changer.  Ironically, society makes us feel invisible from our 50s on, when we finally start having really interesting things to say!!! My artist friend Laurie Raskin was in her 60s when her son went to college, so she decided to take her art to a whole new level.  Almost a decade later, she has had gallery showings around the world, from New Orleans to Paris to Brussels to Los Angeles, and her designs can be found on tapestries, sneakers, greeting cards, face masks, scarves, shirts – you name it!!  She is completely invigorated and lives a most passionate life. I’m taking notes in a major way here.  (Photo of girls and I wearing her masks in earlier blog – more on the incredible Laurie at Laurieraskin.com) 
5. Mental/Curiosity/Spiritual Giving Back – The women in both of my LA book groups are role models here, but especially the group with members primarily in their 70s (and some 80s). The thirst for knowledge these women have is exceptionally inspiring.  I lead a challenging college-level discussion on both fiction and non-fiction selections for them, and outside of that, these woman can be found on the boards of multiple charities, making documentaries, teaching yoga (yup, Janine Lichstein), writing for publications, attending lectures…these women give back.  Through them I see that the brain is a tool that can be continually whetted and sharpened. I LOVE our book group discussions as they have so much perspective and insight. In addition, I am continually listening to speakers and talks about growth, change, courage, possibility, confidence and the like.

 
One of the most challenging aspects of moving to NM is leaving all these exceptional women (all live in LA).  Of course, we’re staying in touch, but as things are opening up, I’ll miss getting together for lunch, or book groups or pool time or walks on the beach.  
 
Having these women as friends and guides in my life reminds me of how true Frank Lloyd Wright’s observation is: “The longer I live, the more beautiful life becomes.”  
​I am so grateful for them.