Books were written about women artists, aviators and many other women, but not about stay-at-home moms. They were out of fashion, dumped at the door of a consignment shop. I didn't like the world to undervalue my mother, even if I had.
When you watched how different your children were from others, you kept a nonjudgmental, open mind. In the absence of role models, you managed to let me be gay without knowing what that might mean, going against a homophobic stream so ingrained in the Filipino machista system.
National Nurses Week is welcome reminder to acknowledge the highly-skilled, attentive and compassionate nurses and other health professionals who keep our homebound elders living and aging at their best.
Cleaning out my mother's house has been both painful and eye-opening. Her photos, keepsakes and written words remind me of the amazing woman she once was, and highlight the glaring contrast between her then and now.
Dad turned 85 last March. I'd been trying to get back to Colorado to see him, but I didn't make the time until summer, after his heart had landed him briefly in the hospital. He'd gotten out okay, but my sister said he was 15 pounds underweight; she was worried about him.
Working on a book about aging has meant figuring out how to make this subject appealing... or at least not dismayingly off-putting. I mean, who wants to learn about tub transfer benches? Who cares about tile slip resistance? Did I really have to choose such an un-sexy topic for my first book?
523-0765. Until last month, the phone number was in my family for almost half a century. But call the number today and you'll hear a terse message that it has been disconnected. It took 15 years for 523-0765 to become a non-working number.
When my dad sees me, he gives me a big smile through chocolate-stained dentures. He's just finishing a cookie. There are crumbs on his lap and on the floor surrounding his wheelchair. His fingers are speckled with chocolate. He is thoroughly enjoying that cookie, and the mess doesn't bother him.
Where are you going to live during the final years of your life? Will it be with your children and grandchildren or will you be living in a senior development wondering if your children can find time for you this weekend?
Last August when I went to Upstate New York to see my mother, I believed it would be the last time she would recognize me. I hadn't seen her since February of 2010, when the man I had known as 'Dad' my entire life passed. Mom's disease had noticeably progressed.
I used to wonder why Dad would wear the same Lacoste shirt for a decade or two when he was in a position to buy four new ones, but now I know. He buys high quality and does not look at purchases as disposable like Lena and I do.
This week, our family will be celebrating a remarkable event; my parent's sixtieth wedding anniversary. Only an extraordinary mixture of love, trust, faith, hard work and -- yes -- luck could have made this event possible.
Think about the positive memories you can create with your family, while making the holidays easier on yourself and your parents. Although it is difficult, acknowledge that you may need to change your traditions in order to do so.
I lost my mother about eight months ago, but she will be 99 in early February. This is the result of dementia. The woman she was is gone. The mother I knew can be reached neither by her conscious awareness nor by all my wishing that I could penetrate her darkening mind.
Mushroom-barley soup, a staple of my childhood, lovingly prepared by Grandma Mollie, was the most delicious soup I'd ever tasted. Grandma Mollie always got it just right, but this time, something was awry.