Apr 2, 2010

The Dreaded Easter Sunday

The last two years, by the end of Easter lunch, I've been thoroughly depressed. All that hard work making a wonderful baked dinner with Yorkshire Pudding and she hated every minute of it.....
By Bob DeMarco
Alzheimer's Reading Room

I had to put this comment up. There must be something wrong with me. I am reading the comment and I have a smile on my face and I am shaking my head up and down indicating yes. Why I ask myself?

While I am reading the comment, I see all the events unfolding in my mind. Everyone has a face. Its like I am watching a movie.

I know I have a big imagination. Fortunately, it helps me. I often envision what I am going to do with Dotty before I do it. These can often be described as brainstorms.

When I write on this blog the exact opposite happens. Sometimes I don't know what I am going to write about. I start typing and then all of a sudden I have an idea. The words just come out of my fingers. This explains why its not unusual for you to read and read until I finally get to my point. I understand I often have two or three ideas going in one article.

Good thing this is blog.

I read the comment below and then I tried to think of some good insight or advice. I'm stumped. I decided to do two things. Put the comment up and see what happens. And, I'll also email Judy Berry. My guess is when she has the time she will have some good insight and advice.

This comment came in under the article -- Alzheimer's Dementia Caregiving -- Learning to Deal with Difficult Behavior.

Just the article I needed to read today. We had some difficult behaviour this morning and yesterday and I forgot all the rules. As a result Mum said to my daughter and me, "You needn't bother coming to my house any more! I don't want to see you again!"

Oh dear.

Easter Sunday is coming up. I'm scared, I admit it. Last Easter and the one before were both disasters. At least I've learnt not to try and take Mum to the Easter Vigil. That only makes her more cranky. She no longer attends Easter services. My daughter Loretta, just arrived from South Australia, invited her to come with us to the monastery that we go to every Good Friday for the outdoor Passion Play. http://www.paulinefathers.org/ She said absolutely not, she hates those kinds of things. Then on Friday when we had already left for the mountains the mobile phone rang and she was demanding to know why we weren't at the hospital yet. My daughter reminded her where we were going and she was so angry. She was angry that we dared to go without her even though she didn't want to go. She was angry that we didn't give up our Good Friday activities to be with her. I handled it all wrong.

I bought the leg of lamb from the butcher ready for Sunday. It's sitting on the kitchen table right now. The last two Easter Sundays I've brought her to my house and she's been in a terrible mood. When I've put her meal in front of her she's said, "I don't want that! There's too much on my plate. Just looking at it makes me feel sick. Take it away!" And then she'd sit there watching us eat with an evil look on her face. You know "The Look"!

If anyone dared speak to her she'd refute whatever they said, angrily. Changing the subject didn't work. I'd pour her a glass of non-alcoholic Maison and she'd accuse me of spiking it. (Sometimes I do, some real wine cheers her up!). She'd tip it down the sink and demand a cup of tea. The cup of tea would be too weak or there'd be too much milk in it or the milk tasted weird and must be from some wild cattle at the Black Stump instead of proper coastal dairy cows.

As soon as we'd all eaten she'd demand to be taken home, saying "I don't want to be out late!" (and it's 1.30pm). "The cat has to be fed!" (the cat is too fat and gets force-fed all day long).

The last two years, by the end of Easter lunch, I've been thoroughly depressed. All that hard work making a wonderful baked dinner with Yorkshire Pudding and she hated every minute of it.

The answer would be to take her out for lunch, but very few restaurants are open Easter Sunday.

The above comment came in from Louise. She also blogs at -- LORELEI: MY MOTHER HAS DEMENTIA.

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Bob DeMarco is the editor of the Alzheimer's Reading Room and an Alzheimer's caregiver. Bob has written more than 1,300 articles with more than 9,000 links on the Internet. Bob resides in Delray Beach, FL.

Original content Bob DeMarco, the Alzheimer's Reading Room