Making a decision starts with assessing all the options then selecting an appropriate action. Sounds easy, eh? From the moment we open our eyes every morning we all make decisions: to get out of bed, plan our activities for the day – or maybe to just stay there a little longer…

But then, once up, our minds have already done a myriad of mind manoeuvres – and all without much conscious effort. We all drift through that raft of daily decisions about showering, choosing clothing, what to eat, and then mull over the day’s planned activities. Along that process we’ll also decide how to travel, who to see, what to buy, or when to do something – a string of choices we seem to make instinctively.

And that sequential thought process is much more complex than we realise. Our mind seems to move through our daily routine of activities automatically. Our brain has been pre-programmed by earlier life activities and seems to run on autopilot. My mind hardly registers that I’ve prepared my body, adorned it with clothes, and organised a plan for what comes next after breakfast, and all without much thought. It is clear to me now, how utterly different that was for my late wife.

• Alzheimer’s began its’ assault on Dorothy’s ability to run on autopilot; it removed her ability to select and choose her activities. Bit by bit, her lifetime of happy personal interactions and subconscious decision-making just continued to melt away. All that earlier life with its loving response mechanisms had slipped away. Her ability to make choices and decisions was almost entirely absent. A lifetime of learned and instinctive behaviour had slipped into a void where only a few remnants spasmodically survived.

As I awake each morning, I’m able to think and decide automatically, as most of us do, about when to get up and what will follow. Later in the day I am able to change my plans and to be flexible about timelines and activities. How good is that!

If you, dear reader, can also do much the same, then there’s a good chance, like me, you don’t have Alzheimer’s! I am still able to make choices, to pick and choose most of my life activities. Well, maybe I am a wee bit forgetful and, perhaps, sometimes, just make the occasional wrong choice, at the wrong time.…but don’t we all know that feeling?         Now, this is a good time to draw your attention to:

• Dementia Action Week
• is ending today, Sunday 21st September, 2025
• But… click on the site below to discover see how you can be involved
• from now on:  Dementia Action Week | Dementia Australia
• Bookmark that site for reference any time!

Coping is a commonly used word to describe how we are managing life’s problems. It implies that we are dealing with them but not necessarily enjoying the process!

Of course, it can also mean something else entirely, as I discovered when I googled my use of the word. I was intrigued to see how it’s often used in the world of architecture and can be defined as “the shape (of a structural member) to fit or conform with the shape of another member”. I thought how apt that definition was when I wanted to use it here in relation to caring for ‘another member’!

I’m sure many of my readers who care for a person with Alzheimer’s will know all about coping. Adapting our lives to care for someone else (as well as yourself) is no mean feat. It always requires the carer to cope with the needs and behaviour of two people.

Keeping a lifetime balance always requires the carer to be alert and aware of the needs of both, as well as finding effective ways to balance and maintain a satisfying relationship for both partners. Sometimes that will involve a conflict of desired outcomes, and it will be tricky to negotiate happily. It’s then that coping will often result: an encounter and an outcome that is not entirely satisfactory to one of the parties.

So, we need to do more than just cope. We need to learn how to gently lead, yet avoid coercion, and find the ways to enjoy activities that provide at least a degree of happy compliance. That requires us, as carers, to be always alert to opportunities for positive strategies; ones that encourage and reinforce a mutual satisfaction. Not always easy, and it sure takes some creative methodology!

It should be easier for long-time partners – after all, we know and understand our own and our partner’s life attitudes and our usual responses to any circumstance, don’t we?

Well, with Alzheimer’s, we often don’t! Past behaviour is frequently not a guide to current activity and reaction. That’s why, among other things, carers need some time out, some respite from the ever-present uncertainty of a partner’s behaviour. That’s why coping is not enough – OK, it will keep things afloat for a while, but we all need to do more than just coping.

If, as you have read this far and you recognise that you are just coping, it’s time to seek help. No excuses. Talk about your circumstances with someone, a family member, a friend, and your doctor.

Coping is good – but not good enough!

You may find some helpful internet links here:

Links to useful sites

The ability to remember is such a precious gift. Sadly, many people are not able to remember their life story. Not even what happened a few minutes ago; or where they are, or who they are with. We all have ‘lapses’ and when the lapse persists, it has a name, and it affects everyone who tries to connect with that person. Sometimes the condition is transitory or intermittently irregular. When that state exists it generally becomes known as Alzheimer’s disease.

Forgetfulness, however, is a common transitory condition, and we all experience it at various levels of intensity and recurrence. We move on, we forgive, we accept it, we have a high degree of tolerance when it is manifest in others, and we sympathise and recognise our shortcomings when we, ourselves, experience those occasional ‘blank’ moments.

When our partner is experiencing a perpetual state of vagueness we almost understand and recognise the problem, because in ourselves, we know it will pass. We are able to manoeuvre our minds to feel sad or happy or anywhere between. We can remember how we felt and, to a large extent, can reconstruct our feelings to decide whether to be miserable or ecstatic, or somewhere in the middle.

Overpowering tiredness, grief, worry, illness, and bodily comfort are just a few of the other human states that have profound effects on how we respond to our environment and in our relationships. That reaction is going to depend on where we are, who we are with, our different levels of health, how old we are, and the mood we are in! Yet, somehow, within those complexities, we are usually still able to decide how to react to any given circumstance.

Not so for those with Alzheimer’s as it progresses. During that process, the ability to recognise where they are, who they are with, and what is the ‘right’ response is frequently, and often totally, outside the realm of their decision-making ability. In my wife’s case, there were, occasionally, ‘flashes’ of recognition of past behaviour and relationships during some activities. The past, and now – puddled together in a perplexing present.

Add to the mix: tiredness, hunger, thirst, love, and fear, then roll them up together in this fragment of time and then, maybe, we can get the tiniest glimpse of the Alzheimer mind. It’s no wonder that a carer needs to be alert – and frequently forgiving – as they travel the fragile, fragmented, dementia road together.

So, there you have it, a brief review of the emotional range of stresses in everyday life for everyone involved in this journey. It’s good to stop every so often and remember the earlier good times and now to recall and cherish the flashes, not the lapses. They help us to recharge and renew our relationships, ever ready to find those elusive happy moments that are memorable……

Means keeping your eye on the ball, watching what you and others are doing. Being alert about the overview, the big picture. That’s oversight. It’s what we do when we are caring for a loved one whose unpredictable actions might cause harm to themselves or someone else. It’s what you do when you are a carer for a partner living with Alzheimer’s; when you need to be full-time-eyes-open for behaviour or actions that could hurt.

But there is another sort of oversight: the one that results when we fail to do something – or do it wrongly. That kind of oversight is usually forgivable: a lapse with little or no consequence. It can happen when we fail to notice something or some action. Most often we can shrug it off, no harm done.

But every now and then an oversight, despite our best intentions, can have unintended consequences, especially at a personal level. It can be embarrassing or may inadvertently disclose confidential information. It can be as simple as asking an inappropriate question or making an unguarded comment at the wrong time or, indeed, at any time. And I’m not immune to such indiscretions, despite my best efforts. Does that sound familiar? Am I alone?

Such an oversight (or really, lack of care) happened to me recently and caused me and an email recipient a high degree of embarrassment and stress. Using ‘Reply’ I included a lengthy epistle about my recent travels, then carelessly (for convenience!) added a raft of family names as cc’s to my reply. That would have been fine had I initiated the first email. But now the string of earlier, confidential, messages from the original writer was all still there. My lengthy text had simply pushed the original messages out of sight down the screen, for all to see!

A few seconds after I hit that ‘Send’ button there was no going back! I had, however unintentionally, exposed to others who had no right to know, the confidential information my friend had sent me. I was devastated. Too late. The damage done, and my immediate heartfelt apology has not healed that breach. My careless use of ‘cc’ now remains with me, and my remorse will continue.

I do hope my readers will learn from that experience and think carefully before sending inappropriate email copies of replies to others not included earlier!

Today’s lesson to self: When I write these epistles, I write once and read thrice before posting. But with personal emails from now onwards, I now do the same and only hit ‘Send’ after I check that the contents are appropriate to recipients!

I’ll try to keep an oversight and avoid oversights…..

Moving, travelling, or just getting around, for most of us, is easy. But for some older people and those with a physical disability it’s often difficult, indeed well-nigh impossible. Fortunately, these days there are many clever devices to assist us move about more safely. And, when we are out and about, there’s better signage, clearer footpaths, safer, well-lit pedestrian crossings and some buses even have a step-lowering feature to enable safer entry.

“Variety is the spice of life” and so we all try to get out and about while we can. Luckily, in Melbourne, the weather is usually mild enough for us to go walking (or mobile-chairing) almost every day, year-round and I walk and travel around as much as I can, while I can. There will come a time when being active outside is not an option; we all need to “make hay while the sun shines”!

Being active outside is easier if we are able to use a walking-stick when walking is safe and comfortable. Many of us can also still drive safely, albeit with some distance restrictions, or are able to use public transport to close-by places where there are paved and pleasant walks. If you have a motorised chair, use it to get out into some fresh air whenever you can; perhaps to simply explore your neighbourhood streets, homes, and gardens.

Retaining mobility does require effort and a degree of discipline and regularity is important to maintain the flexibility and strength of our muscles and tendons. We all know friends of our age who have had falls or operations and who, after a period of time in bed, need many months of physio to regain their mobility. Safety and stability needs to be our motto when walking and being mobile, especially outside. Pace yourself, be careful!

So, here are my two rules: first, use a walking stick at all times outside home; the second is don’t walk where it’s rough underfoot, keep to the paved tracks.

And here’s a tip to get your mileage up: when you are supermarket shopping, even for just the milk, use one of their trolleys for an ‘exercise’ stroll around the store! And, if you have a mobile phone, you should be using it to track and monitor your daily walking activity, too.

Main thing is to walk! It’s good for muscles, circulation, breathing, and appetite – and it’s free. You can tell I’ve been thinking a lot recently about my older, chair-bound friends and how restrictive that must be for them, and that’s my spur to keep moving safely while I can, weather and health permitting! But, when walking stops being an option, mobility aids and fresh air are the next best options!

So, off I go, walking stick in hand, hat on head, phone in pocket (and don’t forget keys!) for a stroll along the freeway path. Pausing awhile to watch the bulldozers as they build new laneways for more cars and renew and enhance our walking tracks.

.…saves nine. Some of my readers will recognise that old adage, for those who don’t, it simply means it’s better to address problems early, before the damage worsens. I guess it stems from the times when a frayed garment was best repaired before it completely fell apart. Like, ‘I must darn my socks before the big toe gets strangled”. You get the idea: don’t let things escalate before you act.

It was a bit like that as Alzheimer’s was taking hold of my late wife, all those years ago. I should have recognised the symptoms earlier, but my vision was clouded by love – and denial. I suspect we all have a selective and biased acceptance of truth, as well as convenient memory blockages. Sometimes we react unpredictably, conveniently rationalise, or are inconsistent and erratic in our own behaviour: that’s just part of growing older, isn’t it?

Should I have seen Dorothy’s dementia coming? Would there have been a difference to our lives had I spotted it earlier? I have often thought about that……

I did recognise that I needed to be more tolerant, more patient and forgiving, and to find better ways to cope with our different perspectives and actions. I stumbled my way into adapting to a new way of living – together and yet apart – without conflict. At first, I often blamed myself for forgetting to share and explain every detail of what had been planned for today, next week, or whenever. Perhaps it was my defective memory; maybe I had just taken ‘something’ for granted, then made allowances for us both. Rationalising every aspect along the way.

Now, years later, I’ll admit I didn’t always see or understand those early behaviour and relationship changes – nor their permanency. Nevertheless, we both instinctively adapted in many positive ways and there were lots of good times. But I hasten to caution that our story, our relationship, and reactions, may be entirely different to your lived experience; if you have some doubts about your relationship don’t wait – make a start to get help!

At first, I was blissfully unaware of the early, subtle, changes affecting us both. In some strange ways, our attempts to cope often brought us closer together. But there were times when I couldn’t or wouldn’t see what was happening, times when we were both pig-headed, contrary, argumentative, even a little aggressive. Gradually, I learned to be more patient and when to keep the right emotional distance. And that kept our love alive, but not kicking!

The balance between our thinking, planning, noting, remembering, and doing, was often befuddled; but the penny eventually drops. It wasn’t just me! I reluctantly accepted there were not only inconsistent behavioural patterns by my partner but also differences in my own reactions which could have worsened the outcomes.

At that point, life for both of us had changed, and kept changing! They were times of learning, understanding, and adapting; of getting on with life differently, often with various levels of stress for us both. It was also a time for deepening forgiveness and love. It’s when I finally accepted the reality of the ever-changing relationship along our journey and really started learning to cope with a new, different, partnership model.

I reckon there were lots of ‘stitches in time’ made in those earlier years! So, if your partner’s responses are changing, be aware; talk to your doctor in private, talk to your family as appropriate and, if you are like me, you’ll be prayerful, and remember ‘A stitch in time…..’

Do you ever wonder where the time went? How on earth did we manage to stay afloat during those working years? And now we’re retired, well the time just flies… sometimes not enough minutes in the day!

If your partner is in care as my Dorothy was for a while now some years back, you will know all the time you spend travelling there, visiting, then all the way back home and the loneliness that follows, back home, alone. Then wondering what to do first…make the bed, do the washing-up, do the laundry or, heaven forbid, wipe the accumulated dust off everything in the house! Even thinking about what to do about a meal is difficult – and you’re out of milk, and, and….

But now there’s just me. No more daily visits. And I’ve learned how to adapt to that state, almost. As for busyness, well, I’ve substituted visiting Dorothy by calling in on as many ‘shut-ins’ as I know. Even those numbers are now dwindling, but there are still plenty to keep me busy. All lovely people, friends I’ve met over time, who are now in assisted living places. Come to think of it, I’m also gratefully living in a minor assisted style, but still in our most recent marital home, a gated suburban estate and, at present, reasonably active.

In fact, it is hard, sometimes, to keep track of my activities! I wonder how my older friends manage? It took me a while to master the ‘Calendar’ app on my phone, but without it I would be lost (in time!). That app is replicated on my laptop and my iPad. It’s like magic: when I make an entry in one of those devices, all three get updated! But, and there is a caveat, it requires me to actually enter the information, and sometimes I forget to do that! Which means I can miss an event; an embarrassment that can be critical and costly, like a dental or medical appointment!

Don’t laugh now, but I confess to also having an old-fashioned “week to a page” handwritten diary always open on the kitchen bench. It can be tricky when I scribble an entry there and forget to update my electronic diary, so I try to be meticulous about adding it to everything! I have a few fortnightly and monthly commitments and it’s so good to enter the information once and have them ‘auto inserted’ to the forward dates in the calendar app. It is so useful to look at a date, weeks ahead, see something already entered, and know to not schedule another event that day.

So, yes, most of my days, I’m busy (often reading or dozing) but, ask me what I’m doing next week and, if I can find my phone and remember what that calendar icon looks like… well, then I can tell you what I’m up to on that day. But please don’t ask me when I’m busy…….

Or is it ‘aging’ in place? Either spelling is correct, apparently. But we know what it means, don’t we? No matter how it’s spelt, sorry, spelled, we know that ageing in place means growing old gracefully and remaining in the family home. But there may come a time when one partner dies or has to move in to care because of a medical condition or Alzheimer’s. It follows that one partner is left at home alone – often in a house on a suburban block. And that partner in that lonely scenario, depending upon their age and health, in trying to fend for themselves, may become part of a further difficult domestic and family dilemma.

The partner remaining at home, probably a suburban house, as well as travel to visit their partner, will still have the everyday care and maintenance of their property. Dealing with the outside of the building and land, alone is a big job! Then there’s the inside cleaning, laundering, personal care, and clothing choices. Not to mention the household shopping, healthy meals, maybe medication, and the travel involved in visiting the partner in care. If it’s the man left at home, there’s a good chance they will be of a generation when mum did the cooking and cleaning while dad went off to work! Whatever the case, the partner now at home may also have indifferent health and that, of course, will compound the problem.

Having family on hand to guide and to research home assistance options will be invaluable, but it’s not always available. Maybe my links could help: https://eldermost.net/links-to-useful-sites/

As time goes by, a person living alone in a suburban home without appropriate and specific help will eventually not be able to manage to care and maintain themselves and their home. One answer will be for them to also move into care. Or perhaps it’s possible to provide free or cheap accommodation to someone in return for basic personal and/or home care – but be careful about going down that road, there are some legal, contractual and insurance aspects to consider! Maybe family could build a ‘granny flat’ in their backyard? See, there are lots of options……

However, the more likely outcome will be for the remaining partner to stay too long in the family home then finally, reluctantly, move to a ‘care home’ – perhaps requiring the family home to be sold under duress. Just finding an ‘appropriate nursing home’ is a process fraught with complexities for an older person and will need lots of help from family and certainly from experts. See: https://eldermost.net/you-could-start-here/

Over time I have discovered, in my personal visits to friends now mostly in nursing homes, we all leave it too late to move into a ‘retirement village’. I get it, there are sentimental reasons to stay put in the familiar family home; but don’t! The best time to make the move is, without doubt, before you or your partner become frail! The transition is easier when you do it soon after retirement (I know a couple who happily did it before they turned sixty). You will love the newfound freedom from house maintenance, neighbourhood issues and property worries. A retirement village is more secure, and you can go off on a holiday or visit the kids any time! Personally, I made the move just about five years too late!

So, today’s message is don’t procrastinate, and:

• Start decluttering your home, early, say when you are sixty years!
• Start planning to move, now, while you are not under pressure.
• Move when you are young enough to enjoy a long and healthy retirement in a “village” (near where you currently live is a great idea), free of property and maintenance worries.
• If you have family, start talking to them about this, now, while you still have your health and wits about you!

It isn’t being alone that affects me. It’s being lonely. There is a difference. And I’m not sure I can explain that difference! For some years during the time when my wife, Dorothy, was developing her Alzheimer’s affliction and until her death we were precluded from meaningful dialogue and meaningful activities. During those twilight years and even now I continue to feel, as many of my older readers will understand, the loss of her companionship and our ability to share experiences. That feeling of loneliness is heightened in the evenings and the nights and, dare I say it, often during the day. But, having been an only child, I guess I can cope with being alone perhaps better than many others who have lost a partner.

I have reverted, so to speak, to an acceptance of this singleness, to this newish state of being alone. And strangely, most of the time, that adaptation is OK. But I am lonely, often. Sometimes, pathologically lonely, if there is such a thing. Times when I just want to shrivel up and disappear; times when I don’t want to go to bed; times when I don’t want to get up in the morning; sometimes for days on end. But, and here’s the good part: I know how to beat it (most of the time). Everyone will have their own ways of coping with depression. I have no quick fix, but I do have some of my own ‘coping’ methods.

I’ve mentioned it before, but for me, prayer is one of the keys to regaining a sense of normality. Other techniques, just simple activities, and in no particular order, are reading, walking, fixing (repairing) ‘things’, writing, being outdoors, eating nicely-cooked and presented meals, wearing comfortable clothing, meeting and listening to interesting people, travelling to anywhere, avoiding conflict, enjoying the comforting feeling of a warm shower, sleeping (even if fitfully!), walking in gardens – and anywhere outdoors, and sharing an experience with a friend or family. All of the above, and others I can’t think of at the moment, keep me grounded and more cheerful – most of the time.

It takes an effort to be proactive when I’m lonely. I say to myself, “Come on, snap out of it! Get on with it”. And I attempt to resume the privilege of life. I count my blessings, stop internalising, get up off my backside and move! Them’s the fighting words I conjure up sometimes when my spirits are down. But it is, almost, a constant and corrosive battle, and I really have to work at it; or I get lost and wallow in self-pity and waste my precious waking hours. Family and friends are our real treasure yet, sometimes, they just don’t quite match the absence of a life’s partner…..

Deep apologies to my patient readers who have read this far. I think my current depressive state has been showing. But I’m not going to delete it, because I want you to know that neither you, nor me, need to despair! We are not alone in our loneliness, nor are we lost. Just a bit ‘down’ today, and determined to bounce back!

So, now, off I go for a walk. If you can’t do that, find a rose to smell, a book to read (or listen to), a TV program to enjoy, or maybe find family or a friend to phone (maybe like me, you can’t quite cope with the newfangled concept of internet social networks!). When all else fails, just write it all down, like I’m doing right now! Be grateful, not grumpy; find the treasure….

Keeping in touch requires a connection and also a willingness for communication to take place. Then again, contact can be meaningful, even without a conversation – the act of contact by whatever means is often enough to establish and confirm you care.

Some people, like me, don’t need constant confirmation that someone cares about them.  Phone calls, cards, letters, and these days, all sorts of electronic messaging can easily work to keep us in touch. But lots of us don’t feel comfortable with the ‘new’ electronic messaging that younger folk have adopted as their, perhaps only, means of making contact with others. It seems often to be very public and not as directly connected to just one individual, although I have learned to almost cope with ‘WhatsApp’.

Personally, I prefer to speak on the phone (even a mobile one!) or write an email. I have never quite got my head around ‘social’ messaging. I do see the value, of course, of the immediacy of all those myriad types of social media and methods.

But some of us oldies are not comfortable with it – and I can’t quite describe why I am so averse to it. Well, maybe I can: I simply just didn’t ‘grow up’ with it.

I was a six year old when WW2 broke out, and when my uncle returned from that war after serving in Tobruk, he taught me how his platoon had built radio receivers using a coil made from discarded copper wire, a safety razor blade and an earphone scrounged from an enemy camp. He and his mates were desperate to hear anything in spoken english, the BBC or even some music of any nationality!

Years later in 1957, when I married my sweetheart, Dorothy, in 1957 we had to be on a waitlist to get a landline phone, and only the arrival of our first-born twin children was sufficient to bump us up the list have one installed! No TV in our house for a while later, and then what a little screen! I think it was a ‘fourteen inch’!

That phone, though, was the star. At last Dorothy and I could actually talk with our country parents. But ‘trunk line’ calls were expensive and timed so we soon learned to use the phone sparingly, especially as our cost of living with a growing family was escalating.

Old habits die hard – and although these days modern cell phones mean instant, almost free, contact any time anywhere, I think I’m still, sort of, living in the past and can’t quite break out of my dinosaur habits! Is there anyone else out there who is still on the same bus as me?