The Personal Approach

As it has been a while, I’ll take a moment to catch you up on our journey into memory care at home.

Today began with a must-have Starbucks run, even though she had given up coffee due to acid reflux issues. She insisted, "I want coffee!" to which I responded, "What about acid indigestion?" She replied, "That doesn’t happen with Starbucks coffee!" I smiled and countered, "Well, that's because of the extra cream, extra whipped cream, and half a shot of coffee instead of two shots." She concluded, "Well, it's still coffee!" As I’m not a doctor or medical professional, I can only share what we experience in this crazy world of memory care and my personal approach to the daily challenges and humorous moments that arise.

During our impromptu trip to Starbucks, we chatted about the heavy traffic, careless drivers who don’t use their turn signals, and how much the town has changed to the point that familiar areas are hard to recognize. There’s no fear in her voice; just a need to find common ground in the familiarity of life’s unfamiliar moments as she adjusts to everything slowing down. She has been navigating her diagnosis for nine years, along with feeling ‘off’ for about 12 or 13 years while coping with short-term memory loss.

Once we arrived at Starbucks, the girl at the intercom asked for our order, starting with food. I asked, "Would you like a cinnamon pull-apart or a banana nut bread?" Her reply was, "I want a cinnamon dolce." I reminded her, "Of course, but food first," to which she responded with a sly, intelligent grin, "I heard you, but I want coffee!" Her answer tells me she struggles to make decisions, so I have learned to order without asking her first, which makes her happy. Today’s order was a shared order of egg bites and a cinnamon dolce with 1/2 shot of coffee, extra whip, and extra cream. (Think circa 1972 coffee milk with cinnamon sprinkles.)

We have signs, cues, and a long history of living and working together for over 35 years. She trusts that I will make the right choices or find a way to fix things if they aren’t great.

Our next stop was to pick up a medication, and the woman at the drive-thru window recognized us. They engaged in a friendly chat, during which she demanded, "I need you to move so I can see her better." The sweet lady laughed, trying to politely get us checked out and back to her other guests. I shifted in the driver's seat to give her a clear view, and in that moment, she launched into a three-minute story about how I kept her safe by unplugging the stove (4 years ago) to prevent a fire. The conversation started when the pharmacy tech asked, "How are y'all today?"

In 2025, I became an unworthy saintly figure to the outside world—the year that brought attention to everything needed for memory care. It is no longer something that can be hidden in the recesses of her brilliant mind (secrets and denial long past); it's out in the open and unfiltered. Living in a memory care home while managing my work-from-home life requires dedication and attention to detail on my part. We find success in maintaining a routine with no surprises (I mean, the best we can with the no surprises)—schedules that feel normal, along with happy trips to Starbucks, the pharmacy, or the supply shop. This situation requires salon management and organizational skills—qualities she has never had to focus on before, but total faith in my skills to do so.

Takeaway from this story: Embrace and lean in on what works best for the journey you are on with your loved one. Focus on the familiar, the comfortable, and the new norms that differ from the past. LIVE IN THEIR WORLD. Don't attempt to pull them back to what you consider reality; that is their reality!

I was her teenage daughter, trained as a salon assistant and accountant at 15. By 23, I owned/managed a salon with her, using her behind-the-scenes directions to create the environment that works best for us in a copisetic way, both then and now.

The vibe: Normal work week. Normal weekend. The things that are staples, and the outings that are fun and worth it.

Coffee run- adjust the beloved order to fit the needs of today.

Groceries on a good day…walk it! do it! on an ick kind of day…order and pick up.

Is traffic scary? Pick times that are quieter and less busy or congested.

Too crowded…shorten the list and check out, and give grace to the unexplained or the unfamiliar.

We dont retreat or give up, we find a new way and give options along the way to not lose dignity or ability to try and make decisions…we try ..we ask each time knowing that her answer may be that sly smile, that bite in her tone the frustration that comes isn’t meant to be harsh, its a warning sign that we might see something she doesn’t want attention on…let it go and see the signs, then find the best way to adjust and not create a vibe that feels ick.

“Who's the parent, L???”

‘Depends on the day N!"‘

Giggle~ giggle and wink fucking wink…

What’s the harm in letting the sassy, spicy attitude come with a little honesty to balance out the fear and frustration she feels when things are heavy or too much in sensory overload of a world moving too fast and out of reach in memory care??

The honest works for us because we have the weirdest relationship and the best story!! The story of friends who were once mother-daughter. We have longevity of 50 plus years of ‘do as I say’ mentality and ‘yes ma’am’ vibes.

I’m no doormat!! I’m her favorite experiment that worked out well for her, and it shows 9 years into the diagnosis and the 12/13 ish years of the uncomfortable realities of Alzhiemers desease and the brilliant, spicy mind of a high-functioning control freak who happens to also have the kindest heart that holds a taurus grudge..

The first thing I learned in being a caregiver is DO NOT miscalculate or underestimate the power of the mind. OOOF!