Taking Care
by Alice Outwater, Ph.D.

Elderly Reminiscing

Over and over again your loved one tells the same stories – it’s no wonder if, you, the caretaker, become impatient. This repetition must somehow be comforting for the elderly person.
Have you ever thought about recording memories of your loved one? This would empower you to draw on the positive and have listening become enjoyable again. The result could go further, allowing the teller, as well as the extended family, satisfaction.
There’s no question elders enjoy sharing their past, sometimes to the point where the listener becomes bored with the oft-told tales. Yet these stories hold the seeds of valuable family history and sociology of the time.
Make it simple: Set aside 30 minutes a couple of times a week and find a pleasant place to work safe from interruptions.
Have a tape recorder handy or take notes by hand or on the computer. Begin by asking open-ended questions about your loved one’s childhood, mother, father and siblings, with descriptions of each. Move on to where they were born, what their neighborhood was like, then proceed on to school, best friends, games they played and of course marker experiences. Nudge them to express their feelings about pivotal events.
Some people have photographic memories, others are reticent about expressing themselves or become emotional. But once started, some soon find their style, and a flow of recollections ensues. Don’t worry about continuity because this can be corrected later.
I remember doing this with mother when she was 94 years old but still alert with memories that reached back to the beginning of the century. Automobiles were a novelty. Horses and wagons brought the fresh produce from New Jersey across the Brooklyn Bridge to Brooklyn Heights.
One hot day an old worn-out horse collapsed in the heat on Montague Street and then expired. It took two days to drag him off. Mother recalled, “Oh, the dreadful stench from his rotting body. You could smell it two blocks away and everyone came to stare at that poor old creature. Then the flies and maggots took over. I pulled up the skirt of my long dress so as not to drag it in the muck and walked on the other side. Of course, I had to see what he looked like but didn’t want to appear as if I was gawking.”
Mother looked forward to our recorded sessions; a sense of satisfaction was evident as we finished each one. It was as if she was putting down a guide of values and sharing adventures with her progeny.
It was a means of connecting the past with the present and relaying family history from generation to generation. In embracing her stories, she clarified how she had lived her life, how she had made decisions – the good and the bad, and the benefits she had experienced. She was pulling these remembrances from a place deep inside her. After these sessions she appeared calmer and well-satisfied.
More recently, I’ve done this very same thing with my husband, and often find him reciting the positive side of an incident. This then lightens his negative experience and is the version that prevails. This can serve as a lightening up, even a healing process.
Wartime England with threats of bombing and a German invasion were frightening to a young boy. “Every night we heard the heavy drone of planes flying over Wimbledon and could see the vast fires blazing in nearby London. We wondered if we would be next.
Then one afternoon a flaming German plane crashed nearby. I saw a parachutist suddenly land in Lady Vest’s garden that adjoined ours. She was a tall, straight, formal lady, never at a loss for protocol. She opened the door of her grand house, strolled out to meet him, and invited him in for tea and tasties. Of course she immediately notified the authorities, who rapidly arrived to take him as a prisoner. Later she told us he was sent to Canada as a POW, a rather cushy existence, she thought.”
“I think it gave me courage that I’d also know what to do in an emergency,” my husband said. In this retelling 60 years later, the threat is transformed into an unlikely, humorous recollection.
As my husband finished the story, I realized how rich this tale is. I resolved to encourage him to pull up all possible details from others. In a way, we both were transformed.
When you’ve collected a group of reminiscences, type them up, take them to a copyshop, choose a cover, and put them together in a spiral binding to preserve for posterity. You’ll be surprised how many of the children, grandchildren and even extended family will embrace them.
Our lives are our stories – and never more so than when abilities decline.

Note: Alice Outwater welcomes questions and comments regarding the content of her columns. She can be reached at adoutwater@aol.com.