From the AlzAuthors Blog: Florrie Munat Shares her Lewy Body Caregiving Story in “Be Brave”

Florrie Canva

Love Remains

By Florrie Munat

“Are you going to write about this?” Chuck asked.

I stopped sorting the pile of laundry that a nursing home aide had just left on his bed and turned to look at my husband. Had we not been married for thirty-six years, I might not have known what he was talking about. But in addition to our long marriage, for the last two years I’d been supplying him with words he could no longer remember. So it took me only a few moments to figure out exactly what he meant.

He was referring to the soul-shattering changes that followed his stroke and Lewy body dementia diagnosis. Those changes had ended the chapter of our marriage when we lived together in equal partnership under one roof, and had begun the current chapter in which Chuck was a nursing home resident and I was his daily visitor. He was asking if I was going to write about those changes.

Back when I worked as a librarian and writer, and Chuck taught high school English and then edited a national classroom newspaper, our married life included some major changes (a cross-country move from Connecticut to Washington) as well as some tragedies (the death of his ex-wife, which led to my adopting his three young children).

But those changes seemed simple compared to this one because I felt alone now. I had become the sole repository of many of our once-shared memories, which left me with a profound sense of loss.

By asking this question, Chuck was giving me permission to document and reflect not only on the cataclysmic events of the past two years, but also on however many years lay ahead of us. His question: “Are you going to write about this?” was also a request. If he’d been able to frame it differently, Chuck might have said, “It’s up to you to tell our story now because you’re the only one who can. And others may be helped by knowing what happened to us.”

Four more years passed before we had to say our final goodbyes, and during that time he continued to remind me, “Are you going to write about this?”

be brave cover imageHis question planted the seed that grew into my memoir, Be Brave: A Wife’s Journey Through Caregiving. He even gave me the title on the day he decided to stop eating and drinking and told me to “be brave.”

With the exception of one chapter about our family’s celebration of the Irish New Year shortly after Chuck’s dementia diagnosis, I wrote the first draft of Be Brave after Chuck died in 2009. Then, with the assistance of an insightful developmental editor and a talented book designer, I spent three years rewriting that draft—and in December 2017, Be Brave was finally published. Kirkus Reviews chose it as one of its Top Indie Books of 2017, calling it “a beautiful, richly panoramic book that should reassure caregivers and delight memoir readers.”

While I worked on Be Brave, I was processing my grief by writing and rewriting our story until I found some meaning in those six nursing home years by placing them in the context of our forty-year marriage. This is not to say I discovered a reason why our lives played out the way they did. That remains an unknowable mystery. And if I could have an intact, healthy Chuck back right now, I’d do it in a heartbeat.

But by writing our story, I did find some consolation embedded in our suffering. And that is that no matter how difficult life became during the caregiving years, our love for one another was never in doubt or in danger. In fact, had we not lived through those last six years, we would not have known the depth and magnitude of our love.

Like all good teachers, Chuck asked questions; he didn’t provide the answers. He wanted me to figure out why “writing about this” would be a good idea. I think he knew his question would lead me to the understanding that even after much is taken, much abides. Now his illness is gone. But our love remains.

florrie munatAbout the Author

Florrie Munat is the author of Be Brave: A Wife’s Journey Through Caregiving (2017), a memoir focusing on the years she was a caregiver for her husband Chuck who suffered from Lewy body dementia. Florrie has published several children’s books, articles, stories, and over 150 young adult book reviews. She’s worked as a reference librarian, English teacher, and university press worker. She lives near Seattle, Washington, where she records audiobooks for the Washington Talking Book & Braille Library, and is writing a YA novel and a memoir about grieving. Learn more about Florrie and Be Brave at www.florriemunat.com.

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Reposted with permission of AlzAuthors, the global community of authors and readers whose lives have been touched by Alzheimer’s and dementia. I am a co-founder and admin.

From the AlzAuthors Blog: Meet Susan Cushman and Her Memoir “Tangles & Plaques”

cushman, susan

By Susan Cushman

My mother, Effie Johnson, was second generation Alzheimer’s. Her mother, Emma Sue (for whom I was named) died from Alzheimer’s when she was 87 years old in 1986, in the same nursing home in Jackson, Mississippi where my mother would spend the final eight years of her life. I remember watching my mother care for “Mamaw” and wondering what our future might bring.

Twenty years later, in 2006, I moved Mother into assisted living. My father had died of cancer in 1998, leaving Mother alone. After eight years of watching her gradual decline and taking on more of her day-to-day responsibilities, especially her finances, I offered first to move her in with us—which she declined—and second to move her to Memphis to an assisted living home. She begged me to let her stay in Jackson, which I did. This meant I would spend the next ten years making the 400-mile round trip to participate in her caregiving, although she did have help, first in assisted living, and finally in a nursing home. Continue reading

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My Mad Dad Canva

By Robyn Hollingworth

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From the AlzAuthors Blog: Meet Tracey Lawrence and “Dementia Sucks – A Caregiver’s Journey with Lessons Learned”

Tracey Lawrence Canva

By Tracey S. Lawrence

Dementia SucksOnce upon a time, I was a self-employed graphic arts professional. I designed stuff. I helped clients with their marketing and printing problems. My parents were living it up in southern Florida, and I believed in the Myth of Retirement:

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In 2003, I learned about the harsh Reality of Post-Retirement. I went to visit my parents in Florida and realized Dad had been covering up his illnesses. He had a lot of issues. He was 75. My mother, who was 74, was very dependent on him.

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