For some time, I’ve stumbled when I try to come up with familiar words in conversation, or even while I’m writing. My mind freezes mid-sentence. If I’m talking to daughters Carolynn or Leslie, they give me time to think before they fill in my blanks. They always laugh — and so do I — in part because they forget words too, though admittedly not as often. It’s a common occurrence amongst my friends too, all of us “vintage” ladies. I’m relieved to know it’s not just an issue for the older generation.

This annoying problem has a name — I happened across it the other day:

lethologica.
leth-o-log-i-ca/ ,leTHe’lajeka/ noun RARE
The inability to remember a particular word or name. “He would grope for the words
and he often apologized for his lethologica”

Lethologica was first noted in the 1915 edition of Dorland’s American Illustrated Medical Dictionary (1915). Psychiatrist Carl Jung popularized around the same time.

Lethologica often occurs when when you’re trying to name a place, a famous person, or come up with a word you seldom use. You know you know, but the longer you try to think of the word, the more difficult it becomes. Your brain concentrates on you not remembering the word rather than helping you come up with it. “But it’s right on the tip of my tongue!” you say.

Try saying the alphabet slowly to jog your memory. Just now, sitting at my computer writing this post, I tried to think of … a TV show … a program I stopped watching because, while I sometimes knew the answers, I couldn’t spit them out quickly enough … and right now I can’t even name the show … A, B, C, D, E, F, G, H, I, J … Jeopardy. Yes-s-s-s!

Good to know that experts say occasionally having difficulty with words, forgetting acquaintances’ names, or worrying about your own memory (although your family doesn’t) are signs of normal aging. Lethologica is likely not a sign of dementia.

If you think that forgetting words mid-sentence might predict dementia, there’s good news. On June 6, 2024, Queen Mary University of London released news of a new method, the first of its kind, for predicting dementia with over 80 percent accuracy and up to nine years before a diagnosis. The new method provides a more accurate way to predict dementia than memory tests or measurements of brain shrinkage, two commonly used methods for diagnosing dementia.

Good news indeed!

The words we rarely use, including proper names, are the ones we often forget.

Elaine Eshbaugh, PhD, professor of Gerontology and Family Studies at the University of Northern Iowa, was my go-to expert during my years as caregiver to my late husband Peter. She has more qualifications than my sugar maple has “helicopters.” Though Dr. Eshbaugh and I have never met, I feel comfortable referring to her by her given name, Elaine. She seems so approachable. I’ve followed her blog through its several name and format iterations. She is very knowledgeable, not in a stuffy professorial way, rather down to earth, humble and caring. She’s also a hoot, a tell it like it is, an everybody’s favorite professor type.

If your life has been impacted in any way by dementia in any of its forms, I urge you to follow her blog, “When Dementia Knocks.” She’ll reel you in with the first paragraph in “Basketball and Birds.” She writes: “If you know me, you probably know March is my favorite month. Two reasons: 1) Spring, 2) Basketball. My husband and I are known for putting three TVs in the living room so we don’t miss any NCAA tournament games.” Read this post from last year for a timely dose of Elaine: https://whendementiaknocks.com/2023/03/13/basketball-and-birds/

“You know I’m not about rainbows and unicorns,” Elaine says in a post from 2018. I’d been reading her blog for several years by then, but the link below solidified my addiction to Elaine Eshbaugh: https://whendementiaknocks.com/2018/03/05/the-purpose-of-welcome-to-dementialand

I came across a basketball slogan that could well be a metaphor for dementia care.
I think Elaine would like it:

Rebound from set backs,
Block out distractions,
Assist others,
Drive to improve.

A couple of times a week, daughter Carolynn and I chat on FaceTime. We laugh and carry on for an hour or more. She never fails to ask what I’ve been up to that day. “Um-m…a load of laundry…and I watered the plants,” I may say.

“That’s it? That’s what you did?” She laughs and laughs.

Well, yes, it is! I think but do not say, Twenty years and you’ll understand.

Now that I’m just days away from becoming 85 I’ve finally acknowledged that I simply cannot do all the tasks I once did in one day. I have to rest between jobs or events. And now that I’m no longer a caregiver I wonder how I managed as well as I did at the time. Caregivers have enough on their plates to deal with, let alone figure out what else needs doing that day.

An article by Heidi Godman (Harvard Health Publishing) published in our local paper last October, suggests we boost and conserve our energy. No surprise to any of us over 65 that our energy levels decline as we age. As we get older illness can drain our energy, plus muscle mass shrinks. Older adults often have depression, a further drain on energy.

Prioritize. Plan. Pace.

It helps to think about what you need to accomplish in a day versus what you want to accomplish. The necessary activity takes priority. If you have a dental appointment in the morning, but a new exhibit at the art museum opens that afternoon, go to the dentist and skip the museum! If you’re like me, a morning dentist appointment flattens me for anything else that day anyway. Sit down with a good book in the afternoon and go to the museum the next day.

I used to make a prioritized list of the things I needed to do the next day. I no longer prioritize the list itself, rather I jot down the items as the thoughts occur and decide later which ones are most important—I use magic markers to highlight priorities. Inevitably, no matter where they are on the list, some things don’t get done, but they’re top of the list for the next day.

Planning my days is getting better, more suited to my age. If, for instance, I do several loads of laundry in the morning it’s OK to just water the plants that afternoon. Planning to bake something the next day? Here’s what I do: assemble all the ingredients the night before so everything is ready first thing. I go so far as to grease the baking pans ahead because that’s a task I hate.

Break tasks into smaller ones to pace your daily activities. These days I give myself permission to tidy my bedroom in phases in the mornings. I get dressed, brush my teeth and clear away the book I read the night before. After breakfast I might go back upstairs to make the bed, or I might walk the dog first. We walk for an hour, so often I don’t even think about the bed until later. I may not make the bed at all that day. My daughters were shocked at that revelation. Twenty more years, girls, twenty more years.

Don’t rush to do things as quickly as you once did, experts say. That leads to fatigue and increases your risk of falling. Plus it depletes your energy stores. Slow and steady wins the race, according Aesop. For years I was guilty of rushing around like the proverbial headless chicken. No more. I recommend that you be the tortoise, not the hare.

Of course maintaining a healthy life style is absolutely key to maintaining energy. A healthy diet is important as is at least seven hours of sleep. Doctors advise at least 150 minutes of brisk walking per week for continued good health. In other words keep moving. (Below see links for information on a wide range of healthy subjects.)

If you’re a caregiver for someone who has dementia or another dread disease you likely think you don’t have time to take care of yourself. In reality the better you take care of yourself, the better you can care for your loved one

https://www.mayoclinic.org/healthy-lifestyle/nutrition-and-healthy-eating/in-depth/water/art-20044256#:~:text=So%20how%20much%20fluid%20does,fluids%20a%20day%20for%20women

https://www.health.harvard.edu/bloghttps

https://www.medicalnewstoday.com/articles/323947#fruits

If you know the heartache of taking care of a loved one who has dementia, you understand the trauma that  forgetfulness brings.

It follows then that if you’re like me and  you have been or are still a caregiver to someone who has dementia you question your own memory when you forget the simplest things. You go into another room for something but can’t remember what it was. Maybe you “lose” your car keys almost every day. Turns out losing your car keys is normal when you’re on the shady side of sixty. It’s when you don’t know what the car keys are for that you may have a problem. 

“If [a person] is aware of their memory problems, they do not have Alzheimer’s,” according to French Professor Bruno Dubois, Director of the Institute of Memory and Alzheimer’s Disease at La Pitié-Salpetriere, Paris. There you go. If you’re over sixty and concerned  about your forgetfulness, don’t worry, you’re OK. You’ll remember what you forgot later. 

Statistics show that half of people sixty or older  have symptoms that can be attributed to age rather than disease. Do you forget the name of a good friend you’ve known for years? That’s normal.  Often, in conversations with friends or family, I forget a word and fall back on “thingummyjig,” then let someone else fill in the blank. I used to know the botanical names as well as common names of plants, including one of my favorites…it’s yellow…sometimes pink…oh yes, primrose! Do you forget the titles of a movies or the actors who starred as I do often? I remember “Top Gun” but can never remember the name of the lead actor. Even now I searched Google for the answer: Tom Cruise, who could forget Tom Cruise?

Scatterbrained behavior is a consequence of normal aging. That’s what differentiates age-reduced forgetfulness from dementia. Dementia robs us of the ability to remember misplaced information at all. Early on in my husband Peter’s long haul through dementia, he knew his once sharp engineer’s mind was deteriorating. He’d sigh and say, “I don’t know what I don’t know.” 

* * *

Linked below is a post from my blog “Dementia isn’t funny. Caregiver Judith Clarke looks for laughs every day.” From 2014 until Peter’s death in 2021 I wrote more than 200 posts with an eye to reaching other caregivers who were in the same boat as I was. I re-read those posts now and then for inspiration for this new blog. This link from June 6, 2016 grabbed my attention recently: https://juditheclarkecares.com/2016/06/09/partitions-to-infinity/

“Let me know what I can do,” I said. “How I can help?” I asked. “Don’t hesitate to call,” I pleaded. Even as I wrote those words, I cringed.  And I cringed again when I read them aloud just now. Urrgh. I’m guilty of making those well-meant, but virtually useless, offers to friends who’ve lost a loved one

Don’t offer help, be the help.

Daughter Carolynn, an oncology nurse for 32 years for whom caring and compassion is second nature, knew I’d been struggling to write another post in this space. Struggling to carry on since August, for heavens sakes! She often nudges me with ideas for this blog, so it was no surprise when she forwarded an article she’d just read entitled “Grief Groceries,” by Hugh Hollowell.*

I knew from experience that it isn’t necessarily easy to accept offers of help in times of grief, or to know if you even want help. When a person is wrapped in sorrow, it’s hard to think, much less decide.  “Decision fatigue” some call it.

Consider these ways to help family or friends who are dealing with the death of a loved one:

Have “grief groceries” delivered—necessities and comfort food such as coffee, tea, milk, bread, pasta kits, cereal, crackers, sandwich makings, frozen dinners, ice cream. Or how about meals delivered from a favorite restaurant or a gift card for the family to use at a different place another time. Get cleaning supplies, paper goods, or other household staples and drop them at the door. 

Help plan the funeral or celebration of life. Offer to have food catered for whatever event the family holds

Friends will drop by. Offer to clean the house or at least wash dishes, tidy the living room and bathroom. Will out-of-town family or friends need a place to stay when they come for the funeral or celebration of life? Offer your spare bedroom for overflow guests or find other bedrooms amongst the bereaved’s friends.

Walk the dog, pick up children up from school or collect family and friends from the airport.

Take the trash out, mow grass, rake leaves, shovel snow.

In days to come, help with the red tape that is sure to entangle the bereaved. In my case daughter Leslie, whose middle name is Organizer, was my rock in the weeks following husband Peter’s death. Red tape didn’t stand a chance with her in command. Offer that kind of assistance if it’s something you’re good at. 

I know that talking about a loved one is good medicine.

Time is perhaps the greatest gift you can offer. Companionship in all its forms is a wonderful gift, be it a shoulder to cry on, a calming chat, a cup of tea.

A few days after Peter died another kind of help came in the mail.  A friend sent me Healing after loss: daily meditations for working through grief  by Martha W. Hickman. I use quotes from it quite often. Here is one of them…

May I not clutch my grief so tightly to myself
that I cannot receive help when it is offered.

* “Grief Groceries” by Hugh Hollowell was published on his blog, hughlh.com  

This poem is from Donna Ashworth’s 2022 book, I wish I knew. A friend posted this piece on her FaceBook page today. It sang to me.

When someone has gone,
you can bring them back
for just a little while
by talking to them into life
by painting a picture
with your memories and your words
breathing their essence
back into existence
for just a few moments.

When someone has gone
you can see them again
for a  minute or two
by being all the things they once were
by allowing their best traits
to filter through you
shaping your words,
your thoughts and your deeds
back out into this world.

When someone has gone
you can feel them again
for just a moment
playing their music
and singing their favorite songs
by giving yourself up to the notes
that brought them alive
once upon a time
it will again.

When someone has gone
you can keep a part of them alive
by giving the love you had for them
a forever place in your life
a forever seat at your t able
and a glorious chapter in your book.

Stories never die
tell them.

From the book I wish I knew, Donna Ashworth,
Black & White Publishing, Edinburgh, Scotland
Available on Amazon at https//amzn.to/3JVMJIZ

When my husband Peter began his “long goodby” all those years ago, besides worrying about his health and well being, I worried about having to handle the many things he’d always managed, things I hadn’t had to think about since my single mom days—car problems, fix-its around the house, doing the taxes. With a lot of help from my daughters and their husbands I’ve managed, some things better than others. 

But this summer, two years after his death, I’ve realized another thing I really miss—my Englishman’s gardening know how. I’ve long believed that the English have an innate knack for garden work—meticulous planning, careful planting, compulsive weeding. Peter was fierce about reining me in when I’d start to weed one patch, then be distracted by a clump of bigger weeds and attack them instead.

I’m at the point in my life now where doing many of the niggling garden tasks—digging holes, spreading compost, pruning—aren’t compatible with my available strength. I still want to do the jobs, but my body creaks and groans! I hire many things done these days, no matter how much I  love doing the work myself.

When my dad was about the age I am now he had to give in and hire someone to mow for him. He hated that he had to quit a job he loved doing, hated the way the fellow mowed in wobbly rows! Several years ago I hired Steve to mow for me even though I, too, love to cut the grass. Steve does a fine job. I have no complaints.

 Dad had to give up kneeling or bending down to plant his “posies” and I now sit on a camp stool to plant mine. Bending for long periods or kneeling to do the job causes several two-Ibuprofen dosages the next day. I hire occasional help with that work too.

Much as I’ve tried to avoid it, I’ve finally acknowledged that I can’t do it all any more. I’m here to say, it’s OK to throw in the trowel when you must, but carry on with the jobs you can still do. 

There’s rosemary, that’s for remembrance: 
pray you, love, remember.
Hamlet Act IV, Scene V

About ten years ago, coloring books for adults jammed shelves in bookstores, supermarkets, craft and gift shops. Crayon sets and elaborate boxes of colored pencils were available too. The fad ended after several years, though not in my house. The rebirth of coloring books was just what I needed at the time.

As a kid I’d loved to color. I’d stretch out on our scratchy living room rug, crayons spread all around, a coloring book inches from my eyes. No surprise to anyone who knows me that I was a stay-between-the-lines child.

Even though those days are long gone, I do have a collection of coloring books in a box  beside my desk and more crayons and colored pencils than Carter had liver pills.

* * *

Several years ago, as I struggled  t0 cope with husband Peter’s worsening dementia, someone suggested that mindfulness might help me. I’d already explored the concept on-line. I’d even subscribed to Calm, a mindfulness app that features meditation practices, calming sounds, ambient music and sleep stories. Even though Calm is user-friendly it was more than my techno-deficient self could deal with at the time.

I simply could not still my brain enough to…well…to be mindful.

Then I heard about a six-week course in the Lifetime Learning program on campus— “Learn to be  happy! Practice the science of happiness.”  Just. The. Thing. Dr. Vicky Dierckx, the  sparkly-eyed happy, positive, enthusiastic instructor was perfect.

The experience with Vicky was so helpful our group asked her to  teach a “graduate” class in happiness. She couldn’t do that, but she does send us weekly “Happy Monday” emails. Last Monday’s message began, “I was planning [to write] about mindful coloring. I wanted to tell you how carefully paying attention to a complex pattern, such as a mandala, while using different colors to fill-in…is an easy way to practice mindfulness and has many beneficial effects.”  But she came across an article titled, “When did coloring books become mindful?”  She realized quickly she couldn’t actually say, “Coloring books are mindful,” but she did write, “…If you like coloring, as I do, mindful coloring will bring you joy and can get you into a flow state.” Flow, she explained, is that feeling of such complete absorption in what you’re doing that you forget about yourself.

That afternoon when I Face Timed with daughter Carolynn I mentioned the Happy Monday message. “Yes! That’s what happens to me when I paint,” she said. “Flow, eh?”  I forwarded Vicky’s message to her for reference. She replied quickly and said I should  write about coloring  in my next blog post.

And so I have.

June! Not the shortest month, no, but for those of us in the Northern Hemisphere June 21, the summer solstice, gives us the year’s earliest sunrise, latest sunset. And the next day the earth’s axis begins its tilt towards winter.

Every year on the solstice my dad would intone, “Won’t be long ’til frost.” Some years he’d say instead, “Won’t be long until time to shovel snow.” These days, with climate change affecting the earth so dramatically, it can be wintry one day in May, positively scorching a day later.

Alzheimer’s Disease is the sixth leading cause of death in the in the U.S., seventh in the world.

For a number of years the whole of June has been known as Alzheimer’s Month, with the summer solstice date highlighted. On June 21, “…people from across the world will fight the darkness of  Alzheimer’s through a fundraising activity of their choice.”

This year the Alzheimer’s Association closed registration June 5, but it isn’t too late to organize an activity in your community, your neighborhood, your work cohort to raise money to help fund research for the sixth most deadly disease in this country, the seventh most deadly in the world

Although I’m fascinated by the stories and the mystique of the summer solstice, the winter solstice too for that matter, I’m almost never awake at sunrise and I often go to bed not long after sunset even in summer! But in 2004 when Peter and I traveled to Norway, The Land of the Midnight Sun—my trip- pick because I’d always wanted to see the midnight sun on June 21—we actually weren’t able to book our trip to include the exact date. Nevertheless, I sat up most nights just because I wanted to experience the bright sky at midnight.

This year sunrise on July 21 is at 6:00:09 a.m., sunset at 8:45:46 p.m. I’ll try to be awake at sunset.