Our Family is Our Fortress…Our Journey through Dementia to Alzheimer’s.

“You haven’t posted a video in some time”….we heard often during our hiatus from vlogging in the late fall 2025 for Operation Move Mom and Pops from Maui to Tucson, Arizona. It was nearly impossible to summarize our experience as we navigated the unknown roads of caring for a parent with Alzheimer’s when asked why we’d taken a break. How do you explain the emotional roller coaster, the wins, the losses, the turbulent times when you felt like a failure as a daughter, to the profound moments of love and laughter. Amid the storm, and desperately needing a break, our son Evan, Aaron, and I took Mom to see the new Avatar movie, her first since “when that alien phoned home” as she said. The sound system blaring, watching Mom rock and roll in top-of-the-line, interactive theatre seats, while sipping wine with a big smile on her beautiful, porcelain face, I absorbed the words spoken by an actress on screen…..“our family is our fortress”….and that moment brought it all home for me, and I quietly cried tears of gratitude.

I’ve struggled with the desire to narrate our experience with the thought that we could possibly help another family with our mistakes, to the opposite side of the pendulum, ensuring family privacy. It really came down to what my Pops would want, and as a professional orator, someone who stood proudly in front of packed classrooms of college students hanging on his every word, I know he’d want this. Pops was a teacher from a young age. Recently I discovered his talent for enrapturing an audience began at a young age with his enlistment in the Navy as a welder as his supervisors spoke highly of his training, experience, and ability to impart that knowledge to those around him on his evaluations. Pops was a leader, his humor brought out the best in everyone around him.

Pops is a tease, his delight and pride as a Navy vet captured in this photo.

It wasn’t something that happened overnight, in fact, it crept in like an allergy you aren’t quite sure is an allergy and then suddenly you realize, it’s an allergy here to stay.  Mom had hinted at things going awry for a couple of years, as Pops was diagnosed with dementia years earlier, but having spoken to my dad on the phone from 3,000 miles away, all seemed to be just fine for such a long time other than a few memory issues.  I chalked up his retelling of the same stories as his personality hankering for the audience he routinely held in rapt attention.  He had the ability to weave a tail so eloquently that the punch line hit you a heartbeat after the delivery, which becomes wicked funny as you recognize the brilliance behind the narration.  Basically, Pops could speak and speak well.  So, to hear him tell a joke over and over, repeating events, and discussing the same point ad nauseum, we chalked up as his attempt to just ‘get it right’ for delivery.  We were so wrong.

His disease really became apparent on his 75th birthday.  Mom and Pops flew from Maui to Olympia, Washington in June of 2023 to gather at our home and celebrate his milestone.  Aaron and I drove to Seatac Airport around 11pm to pick them up and immediately realized something was amiss.  Pops wasn’t engaging with us, but with another vet that had flown on the same flight, in fact, he hardly acknowledged we were there. Mom looked bedraggled, extremely emaciated, worried, and exhausted, her words quietly spoken in my ear as she hugged me holding on tight, “the flight was bad.”  We retrieved their luggage, bundled them both in the truck with Pops in the front seat, Mom and I holding hands in the back, my hand stroking up and down her arm in an attempt to soothe her worry, when Pops leaned towards Aaron and said in anger, “where are you taking me.”  Mom whispered to me in the back that she’d “lost dad halfway over on the flight, that he didn’t remember her nor knew where he was.” Uh oh.

We settled Mom and Pops at our home and honestly chalked his erratic behavior to the late hour. “Everything will be okay in the morning,” and then it wasn’t. It was our first glimpse of the unwavering dedication and love Mom has for Pops, sacrificing her own comfort to ensure he was safe and happy. Oh Mom, why hadn’t you told us sooner? Over the next several weeks we quickly realized something was gravely amiss. For example, our house was easy to navigate and we put Mom and Pops in the master bedroom on the lower floor, which also had its own large bath. Every night Pops would disappear upstairs looking for his room, at times opening Evan’s door wondering where to go. Had I known what I know now, this leap into an unfamiliar territory would have been easier to help him navigate. I would have known to simply lay my hand in his and lovingly escort him to bed, a soft hug to say he’s safe, and that I’d see him in the morning. Alzheimer’s patients thrive when they feel safe, leaving them in unfamiliar places can cause anxiety.

Pops birthday is June 14th, and the family gathered to celebrate his 75 years on the planet. His brother Dick and his wife Marla, cousin Susie and her husband Jamie all descended to our home to visit and connect. It had been years since the brothers had face to face visit time as Mom and Pops had been living on Maui for over a decade. The joy as they teased one another transcended any ‘issues’ we deemed apparent. It was a wonderful day, and greater weekend when my brother and his wife and son also came to visit, basically five days of nonstop gatherings. Yet, each evening, Pops seemed agitated, restless, argumentative. Alzheimer’s patients need calm and routine to feel safe, try to avoid overstimulation. Had I known what I know now, I would have managed these interactions in shorter duration, with at least a day of routine calm between.

I don’t recall who told us to read the book, “The 36-Hour Day,”, but thank you. During my parents stay at the house, we began reading in earnest; trying to find out what to do, how to make him the most comfortable and less agitated. I think Aaron and I inhaled the book in less than two days. Within a few chapters all his mannerisms suddenly made sense, and I felt terrible we’d taken so long to understand. It was a huge change in how we interacted with Pops. So often we’d sit and remiss about past events but quickly had to learn how that frustrated and upset his day. Alzheimer’s patients become frustrated and anxious if you test their memory. We learned to avoid the phrase, “do you remember when”…..but boy is that a hard habit to break!

While Mom and Pops were with us, Aaron suggested we have a girl’s day out with lunch and a photoshoot with a friend. He assured us that he and Pop would be just fine and they’d relax at home. Aaron and Pop have an amazing relationship, it’s a joy to witness their nonverbal and verbal playfulness. We arrived home mid-afternoon, having only been gone for a few hours and it was immediately apparent by Aaron’s exasperation that things did not go well. Pops refused to eat for Aaron - all day. He pouted and said he’d wait until we got home and as memory care patient’s believe hours have passed when it’s only been a few minutes, Pops was very agitated when we arrived, angry that we’d been gone so long. Alzheimer’s patients will voice their frustrations and at times use hurtful words, don’t react defensively! It’s the disease talking, not your loved one. ‍ ‍Never argue or try to convince them they are wrong. Redirect, change the scene, you are in control.

As the end of their stay with us grew close, our worry for Mom exponentially heightened. She was doing so much, managing Pops care, a large home on Maui, and navigating unknown waters. Our first task was to get Pops into his doctor to find out if anything could be done. But even before that, we needed to get him back on the airplane and home. With a little education under our belt and saying a LOT of prayers, Aaron and I took them to the airport in the early morning. We made it to check in and I quickly whispered to the agent we needed passes to accompany our parents to the gate. In a blink of an eye we were off with Mom and I walking beside Pops, trying to gently guide him thru the process as Aaron walked behind like a defensive end ready to pounce if things went awry. The crowded airport, loud noises, screaming children, scents and smells all threw Pops for a loop. His walk slowed to a crawl and we had to keep encouraging him to move. We made it to security and the crush of people became worrisome. Standing in line for several minutes, keeping Pops talking and distracted along with reassuring Mom was tough. At one point a TSA agent asked us to change lanes. Oh lord, here we go. We moved, Pops didn’t. At our wits end we failed to remember another tidbit, don’t rush Alzheimer’s patients. Let them find their words, let them process their scene, don’t force them to move quickly. Pops was growing agitated towards the agent and I knew things were about to get really bad, so I leaned in and said I’m so sorry, mouthing the words dementia. The TSA Agent’s demeanor completely changed. He whispered back, “I got you,” and calmly joked with Dad and gently moved him into the needed line. Wow!

June of 2023 was pivotal for our family having realized we needed to find more help for Mom and Pops, yet they still weren’t at the stage where we felt Pops needed to go into a Memory Care facility. Mom wasn’t ready for that and honestly Dad would have fought his way out. He was mostly sundowning in the evening, but could still perform hygiene functions and basic tasks. Aaron and I were in the process of raising Evan and working towards his graduation from high school and the local community college. We had thought our path would lead to buying my parents home on Maui and becoming their caregivers.

Pops had his follow up appointment in August, and his memory care doctor called me from Hawaii shortly after. He wanted to hear things from my side as Dad continued to bluff his way through his appointments using humor to cover for his memory loss. The doctor listened to all my recall of the ‘issues’ we encountered in June (I kept a journal and recommend any family member do the same to track disease progression), and then gently told me Pops was in advanced dementia stages, no medicine would help, and we just needed to manage his anger towards my Mom. An increase in his medication bought us six months, then another increase in meds, a few more months after that. I reached out to the doctor again mid-May 2024 after he’d done another brain scan and he showed me the results via a zoom meeting. Pops brain had massive black blotches throughout, Pops was in the Advanced Alzheimer’s Stage. The doctor told me I needed to move my parents off Maui immediately, that there weren’t any resources available, and Aaron and I couldn’t manage his care. The doctor was gentle in his words, yet matter of fact and blunt. That night I poured a large glass of wine, drank it, and cried.

Why can’t a family crisis come at a more favorable time? Evan was about to graduate, we were readying to move him into Montana State University. Honestly Mom was still in denial, “I’ve got this, come over when you can”, yet her health was beginning to decline, she was becoming too thin working so hard as a caregiver. I didn’t go, I went to see Evan graduate, came home, had a friend over for dinner and told him we were selling, and we found Raven, our 2024 Tiffin Phaeton Motorhome. What an insane time. Juggling the youngest leaving the nest, Mom and Pop’s, selling a home and acreage, navigating the ups and downs of the sale is on, it’s off, it’s back on again all the while having put money down on our future home. I called Mom each evening as it became increasingly more difficult to talk to dad on the phone as his memory or even what he could communicate was minimal and strained. The saving grace through all of this, my brother and his wife were able to fly over and check on Mom and Dad.

Sometimes you just bury your head as it’s too much to handle. I hadn’t any friends who’d faced similar stressors so nobody to truly reach out to. We navigated the final sale, took off for Red Bay, Alabama and continued to text and call mom every evening. Mom kept asking when we were flying over, I should have picked up on her nonchalant demeanor, but I didn’t, or perhaps just chose not to. Aaron and I were off living our dream! Soon Mom, soon. Through it all the best possible things happened in our travels. We came upon Rincon Country West RV Resort in Tucson, Arizona landing there in December of 2024 for two weeks and then booked a month the following March. Mom had started to talk about moving off island, we had toured their beautiful park models and instantly knew this was it! We even chose the exact park model she needed to buy and sent her a video. She loved it.

June of 2025 Mom had neck surgery and had to fly to Oahu and back for the procedure. Our great friend Mitsue graciously accompanied her so that Aaron and I could once again travel east to Red Bay, Alabama for warranty work. Mom came out of surgery, but it became readily apparent she could no longer leave dad for any length of time without supervision. How they had been managing up to this point is truly remarkable, or luck. My brother and his wife once again flew to Maui in July and said it was time, we needed to move them asap. We had secured flights to make a trip to Maui “one last time” in September and arranged to leave Kolohe and the motorhome at our old house in Olympia. I panicked and became overwhelmed with the need to drive south immediately from Washington to Tucson. We had already secured flights for Mom to fly in and check the area out and I just didn’t want anything to stop us. It was more important for us to land in Tucson early rather than spending the time, money, and effort to fly to Maui.

October 15, 2025, we arrived in Arizona and immediately set out to find Mom and Pop’s forever home. In November Mom flew over for two jam-packed days of touring park models, and we put money down to secure the one she fell in love with. The new plan was to move them over BEFORE their house sold, having been reassured by their friends and realtors that their house would sell quickly. In November, Mitsue once again graciously offered to fly Mom and Dad over. That’s when everything came crashing down and quickly progressed.

We are forever indebted to Mitsue for her unwavering love and dedication to my parents and family. She flew over on a red eye helping Mom and Pops navigate the airport scene. Somehow Pops was willing to fly as it seemed like he was “ready to go home,” as he’d say. We had no idea he was incontinent, and didn’t hit that realization until they landed in Phoenix. It was clear Pops was embarrassed, yet Mitsue quickly ushered him to a family changing room and got him situated. It was a long drive from Phoenix to Tucson Airport to retrieve their luggage (they missed the connecting flight), but finally we got Mom and Dad into their new home. Early the next morning Mom called in a panic, Pops had wet the bed and she needed help. This yo-yo of night to day routine happened for a few more days until one morning she called sobbing. Pops had soiled the living room furniture. Incontinence is common amongst Alzheimer’s patients, it’s important to recognize the signs early so you can be prepared and provide some semblance of dignity. We spent an entire morning cleaning the park model, all was disinfected and put back in order. I immediately ordered large blankets made for incontinent patients and we bomb-proofed their beautiful new furniture. It’s okay Mom, we’ve got you! We can do this.

A month flew by and Pops seemed to settle in a bit better, or so we thought. At one point, he quit eating and we recognized he was dehydrated and we thought perhaps he had a UTI. Cue an emergency trip to the hospital to find all was perfectly fine, he has zero ailments other than Dementia/Alzheimer’s, nothing, nada. We took him back home and settled him in. Over time we finally clued in that he wasn’t taking his medications, he’d place them in his mouth and then hide them in a napkin when Mom wasn’t looking so he wasn’t getting the medications which helped with sundowners, he’d become fearful of the shower, the bathroom, and generally anything to do with water. He routinely mis-identified the toilet as a receptacle for his banana peel. No wonder his anxiety was off the charts each evening! Mom handled these challenges like a champ as she quickly learned not to correct, but redirect. Instead of telling him his fear was abnormal, or that his behavior was wrong, she went with it showing him love and patience. Alzheimer’s patients cannot answer “why” they are doing an odd behavior, they simply need calm and redirection to address their anxiety.

When Aaron and I landed in Tucson in October I had begun hours of online search to connect with caregivers, local and state resources, anything to help our family navigate this new path. I entered data in countless websites, but rarely received phone calls in return. I kept plugging away. During a conversation with a potential care home (we were still thinking we could care for Pops at home), I was directed to a Facebook page that posted people seeking employment as caregivers. I was worried about going this route due to all the craziness in the world, so instead opted to hire a local company that came highly recommended. Caregiving is expensive, but worth every penny. Alzheimer’s caregivers need breaks to keep stress level lower and have respite from the constant focus on the loved one. Blue Rose Legacy was a wonderful organization and we set up weekly four hour blocks for Mom to get a break, each around $200 per visit. Pops enjoyed the connection with each caregiver, a clue that he was lacking stimuli with just us. With their expertise I learned he needed enrichment items, not just simply reading the same magazine each day. I hopped online, read numerous articles and ordered everything I came across from easy puzzles (he loves those), to activity boards and beyond. Alzheimer’s patients reduce their anxiety through textile therapy, even as something as simple as stacking dominoes or the tiles from a Banana-gram game soothed Pops. Here are a few of my favorites he enjoyed. (Click on the title to be re-directed to Amazon)

6 Pack 16 Large Piece Puzzles for Seniors Puzzles Dementia Alzheimer's

Fidget Board for Dementia Patients-Activities for Seniors-Alzheimers

Premium Dementia Activities for Seniors - Comforting Alzheimer’s Products for Elderly

Fidget Cube New Version Fidget Finger Toys - Metal Infinity Cube Prime for Stress and Anxiety Relief

In January we recognized we could no longer keep up with Pop’s care. It was a gut-wrenching decision for Mom, yet, she deserved to live her best life in her remaining years. Married for 59 years, their love is something out of a movie, a rarity because of the deep nature of their connection and both blessing to have found each other so young. I found a home that I thought perfect for Pops. Instead of a large, commercial memory care facility, this home boasted minimal patients and a 2 to 1 ratio of staff to patient. I had to mentally brace myself for the transition, and Aaron and I rolled into our previous first responder roles, providing a unified strength for Mom as she navigated a tough day. We connected with his in-home Family Nurse Practitioner Manny who prescribed a mild sedative so we could encourage Pops to get inside the truck. I sat in the back with Mom and once again held her hand. At the home I was immediately struck by how quiet it was, the residents were simply sitting around. We were given a tour, believed it acceptable, and while Mom had Pops distracted, we moved his items into his room. We left Pops on a Friday, by Monday I asked his personal caregiver to drop by for a quick check on things, unannounced. I just didn’t feel right and something was just nagging at the back of my mind. She texted me immediately and said it didn’t look like he’d been cared for, had refused to eat since we dropped him off nor taken his medications. He was soiled, agitated, and in complete distress. Vanessa was too, she was so upset seeing Pops like this. I called the owner and she used the phrase that homes will use to sever a contract (I’ve since learned this tidbit), “your father is combative and we can’t care of him.” As Aaron drove to the home, I texted Manny and told him we needed dad evaluated ASAP. Manny told us he’d send his nurse to meet us at the home. When we arrived the ONLY caregiver present was the cook, all the residents again looking sad. As Aaron packed Pop’s belongings, I connected with Manny’s nurse who helped retrieve his medications. She counted each pill and Vanessa was correct, he had taken none. I confronted the cook and asked him what was going on, he simply stated Pops wouldn’t take his meds, wouldn’t eat, or drink. I asked if there were other caregivers helping him and it was immediately apparent he was about to tell a lie. I told him to stop, I didn’t need excuses, I just needed to save my dad. We walked Pops into this home expecting a level of genuine care, we had to physically carry him out. I failed Pops. Never again dad, I am forever sorry. Facilities or homes are working for YOU, feel free to drop in at ANY time to check on your loved ones. Follow your instincts.‍ ‍

Manny saved my dad, literally, and I am forever in awe of the care he shows elders. I highly recommend finding someone in your area that provides concierge-style healthcare. As Manny is mobile, it allows in-home visits and evaluations without the need to endure a lengthy emergency room visit (unless necessary). Manny checked Pop’s out, found him dehydrated, provided an IV and antibiotics, and remained with us for the day. He ordered blood tests and even had a mobile x-ray to check out Pop’s chest and back area as dad seemed in pain. At one point, Pop awoke and started to sit up and asked to use the restroom and Manny and Aaron got him situated. I made chicken noodle soup and fed it to him like a baby bird. He was so hungry! The next week was a blur of sleepless nights, a roller coaster of emotions navigating care for someone who couldn’t walk unassisted. Pops was still confused, sundowning hard in the evenings, agitated when we laid him down each night, Aaron having to rely on his firefighter skills of moving a patient using blankets. It was a 24/7, all hands on deck level of care as I desperately connected with a new facility recommended by Manny. Check out Manny’s business, Mesquite Medical. You’d think this level of care would be expensive, but it’s covered by Medicare!

At first the three of us (Aaron, Mom and I) were a complete mess trying to navigate this new level of care, but soon we found our footing. It was the toughest, yet most rewarding week of this journey, a true labor of love. By the end of the week we came together like a well-oiled machine, learning to slow things down, giving time for Pops to react to what we’re asking of him. Sometimes it required a daunting 10 minutes watching Pops fold a piece of toilet paper over and over while we held him upright, biceps burning from the exertion.

One evening, on a whim, I just slid into bed beside Pops when he was particularly agitated. I ran my hand up and down his arm and hugged him gently. He relaxed and I talked about things we used to do, fishing, picking berries, a simple monologue of memories while he listened. I told him he was okay and safe, and Pops reached over and started running his hand up and down my arm in return. I thought he’d fallen asleep finally as he grew still, but suddenly he said, “It’s amazing what you can hear when it’s silent.” Oh my heart.

The next day he walked out of the bedroom nearly unassisted, wobbling like a baby deer, ate a huge portion of French toast Aaron whipped up and sat up for a time. This was all perfect timing as Vanessa the caregiver was to sit with Pop that day while we traveled north to Catalina Springs Memory Care to meet the Director for a tour. What a beautiful facility and staff, it was an easy decision to make. Pops would move in Friday. Cue the frantic scramble to launder, pack, and purchase items he’d need at the new facility. We’d lost so much at the first home as they’d ‘misplaced’ so much of his belongings.

We are forever indebted to Vicki and Ryan, RV full timers and neighbors to our coach at Rincon. Having tried our best to maneuver Pops into the truck on drop off day, we soon found we needed more help. Ryan and Vicki dropped their morning coffee and immediately came over, both having experience in working with loved one’s with this horrific disease. Ryan and Aaron were so patient and loving to Pops and, after some wrangling, were able to get him situated. At Catalina Springs, Pops was his usual comedic self, joking with Aaron as he lifted him from the truck into the awaiting wheelchair. They have a friendship that is a joy to watch, ever apparent as Pop wouldn’t release Aaron’s hand as Nurse Tia escorted him into his new home. Pops was still too weak to walk, a fact that changed with the professional, loving care within a couple of weeks at Catalina! Soon Pops was walking the hallways unassisted - what a joy to see!!! It’s amazing what a safe, clean, well-run facility can do and Catalina Springs Memory Care truly sets the bar high for others to follow. During visits, we’d bring Pops an Arby’s meal, his favorite fast food!

With Mom and now Pops situated in their forever homes, adjusted to their new routines, and thriving, it was time to once again hit the road. It was very tough for us to leave, but it helped to have already secured four months in Arizona, November-March. Thank you for reading, if we can answer questions or provide insight to any family, please don’t hesitate to send an email our way: aaron@whatdoin.net. It takes a village to navigate this life change, and just remember, your family is your fortress however that family might be defined.

Special thanks to our extended family: Mitsue and Amos on Maui, Vicki and Ryan, and Lisa and Ray at Rincon Country West RV Resort for their tremendous love and support. We couldn’t have accomplished Operation Move Mom and Pops without you!