October 1999


My father passed away in November 1992, when I was 29. Soon after his death, I realized that my mother was unable to do many things on her own. She was 69 years old at that time. She could not manage finances, and didn't know anything about paying bills. She had never driven, and my father had done most everything for her.

I didn't know what else to do, so I started taking care of her. I spent most nights sleeping on the couch in her house as she was afraid to be alone. I did all her grocery shopping and tried to keep up with paying her bills. She stayed in the house until March 1993, when I moved her to an apartment near me. She was very dependent and helpless. She was afraid to be alone so for several months I spent most of my free time trying to calm her and keep her company. Again, many nights I slept on her couch, as she would cry and beg me not to leave. I was beginning to believe she could have Alzheimer's Disease, but any suggestion of me taking her to a doctor would send her into a temper tantrum. I didn't press it at that time. I continued to take care of her by dealing with her bills, getting her groceries, cleaning her apartment, and taking her to church and to stores when she wanted to go. I tried to get her to go to CASI, a local center for older people to socialize, but she resisted and when I did take her, she would not speak to anyone and would just say she wanted to leave.

I didn't let anyone know how difficult she was. When my friends or coworkers would ask, I would just say she was fine. None of my friends at that time knew the extent to which she was dependent on me. I spent 2-3 hours every evening with her, and much of the weekends. I usually did not get home until 10 or 11 every night.

By 1997 she seemed stable and comfortable in her apartment. I hired a cleaning person to clean her apartment and help with her grocery shopping. I was able to spend a little less time there and occasionally go out of town without as much concern.

Early in 1999, there were some changes that I tried very hard not to see. Her memory was deteriorating dramatically and she was quickly losing time and day perception. She lost interest in television, which she had always loved. She also started telling stories that seemed hard to believe, though sometimes I did believe them as I wanted to so badly.

I took her to her beauty salon to get her hair done. I was with her the entire time. Afterwards when we got back to her apartment, she talked about how horribly she had been treated by the hair stylist. She was very elaborate in her description of this treatment. I told her that nothing like that had occurred. She became so upset and cried and I told her I was wrong and that it really did happen. I have since learned not to tell her (or anyone with Alzheimer's or dementia) that they are not telling the truth.

After this I knew it was time to find a better place for her to live. In July of 1999 I moved her into Brookside Senior Complex, a facility that offered a little assistance for elderly residents. It seemed like a safe place for her. By September I could no longer run away from Alzheimer's Disease. My mother had gone into a fantasy world. ( I believe it is referred to as “dementia”). She would leave her room at 2:00 AM, fully dressed, and go knocking on the other residents doors, trying to find out where she was supposed to be. I got her into a doctor by deceit, I made the doctor visit fit into her fantasy. We spent a day in the hospital having all kinds of tests done on her. The hospital staff was so kind to her and she didn't get upset with all the tests being done. She seemed to enjoy the attention. I was a complete wreck

I've had to start telling my friends and coworkers what is going on. Most seem to think that I have put too much into my mother's care and that I have sacrificed too much of my own life for her well being. They see what I have experienced as a loss, and something I shouldn't have put so much into. The reality is that I have gained so much from this experience,so much more than I lost to it. I kept my mother safe and healthy and on her own for 7 years. So many times when she was difficult and hostile, I found myself wishing I had left the Quad Cities and walked away from her. I was so angry for this situation. I didn't realize then how important this time was and how much I was learning. I learned so much about my mother and her life. I never would have truly known her if not for these 7 years. I never felt close to her as a child. Due to her personal circumstances she was rather cold and distant.

I have learned so many lessons through this. I have learned compassion and patience. I have learned that a difficult childhood caused my mother to respond to life in the fearful way that she did, and that I must never allow past sorrows to keep me from living my life to the fullest. I have also learned the depth of my mother's character. She has so much.

I have learned and continue to learn the depth of my own strength. The day my father died, I never would have believed I had the strength to do what I have done.

In response to the well meaning friends who think I sacrificed too much of my own life in caring for my mother, here is what I accomplished from 1992 to 1999: I finished my MBA at St. Ambrose, I did 8 half marathons and 2 full marathons, did a 100 mile bike ride, and worked a full time job, as a laboratory supervisor at a local water treatment plant.

There are so many more things I want to do with my life. I have no regrets for the time I spent caring for my mother. I do not regret staying in the Quad Cities either.


The poetry of Jerry Ham has helped me and I would like to share it with you. Here is a link to some of his poems. "Alzheimer Poetry"


I'm taking lots of pictures now. I found an old picture of her and scanned it into my computer. I touched it up in PaintShop Pro and printed it. I put it in a frame and have it in my living room. I want to remember her as the vibrant young woman she once was.


I found a lot of support on the Internet when I needed it. I will always be grateful for the kind people who helped me when I needed it.


If you are going through something like this and are caring for a loved with Alzheimer's or dementia you are probably feeling overwhelmed and hopeless. I promise you that you will be ok. You are doing the right thing and you will not regret it. If you need someone to talk to, you can email me, and I will try to help.
Judy Starcevich