Rock ‘n Roll Superstar Bobby Vee, now 70, Battles Alzheimer’s With Faith, Grace — and Music
Three years ago, Bobby Vee started forgetting the lyrics to the hit songs he had performed thousands of times since the height of his career in the 1960s. Alzheimer’s was stealing his memory. But not his spirit.
Deciding he was going to live every day to the fullest doing what he loved, Bobby and his family found comfort in music as they jammed together. An album of Bobby’s favorites evolved, and it has just been released.
In this Land of 10,000 Stories feature, KARE-11 TV’s Boyd Huppert takes us close up with Bobby and his family as they continue to find joy in the music that has brought so much joy to others over the past 50 years.
National Wear Red Day - Raising Awareness in the Fight Against Heart Disease in Women
Women (and men) across the country are wearing red for "National Wear Red Day" today. At Ecumen, we see the effects heart disease has on women of all ages. Many of our employees are wearing red today to support more research and awareness of the No. 1 killer of women.
Please join us by learning more about heart disease and stroke at www.goredforwomen.org, including "Factors That Increase Your Risk for Heart Disease."
From a Global Perspective, Americans More Optimistic About Old Age
We have the opportunity at Ecumen to serve many optimistic people. But a new report by the Pew Research Center shows the United States is generally in a better place attitudinally about old age than the rest of the world.
The reason why may surprise you. The United States is aging more slowly than Europe or Asia largely because of its high rate of immigration. And the study shows that younger countries like America tend to be more optimistic.
See Washington Post reporter Tara Bahrampour’s story on the Pew report and its implications.
The Village Model of Aging-in-Place Gaining Momentum
Most seniors still prefer to stay in their homes if they can, and a recent trend is toward the “village” cooperative model of assisted living where communities of seniors ban together to help one another age well in their own homes.
Groups of seniors create a membership organization that runs programs and assembles services to keep seniors in their homes and to help them live life to the fullest.
One of the pioneering village organizations is Mill City Commons in Minneapolis, which Ecumen had the honor of helping start. On its website, Mill City Commons describes it work this way: “By offering a wide variety of services – from in-home preferred vendor lists, cultural and social events and member-to-member volunteer opportunities to health and wellness programs, educational and special interest programs and community service – Mill City Commons fulfills its mission: to connect its members with the services and information to live their lives to the fullest for as long as they choose to live in our Riverfront neighborhood.”
NBC News anchor Brian Williams recently highlighted the village model in an interview with his wife’s parents, who are part of a Connecticut cooperative called Staying Put.
Today’s Quiz: Who reads more books— younger or older adults?
You said “older,” didn’t you?
The answer, according to a new Pew Research Center survey, is that there is no significant difference by age group in rates of reading books.
Across the age-group categories, about three-fourths of Americans have read at least one book in the past year. The typical American read five books during the past year, and that was the same across age groups as well.
Not surprisingly, college graduates and people with higher income tend to read more books.
The major difference between younger and older readers is not in how much they read but how they read. Far more younger adults are likely to have read an e-book. Almost half (47%) of the 18-29 year-old group read an e-book, whereas only 17% of the 65-plus group did. E-book reading tends to fall gradually with age.
Still, the Pew survey says “print remains the foundation of Americans’ reading habits.” In fact, 87% of e-book readers also read a print book.
Ecumen Centennial House Honored in Readers Choice Awards
Ecumen Centennial House in Apple Valley, Minn., was named “best assisted living” community in Sun Thisweek newspaper’s Readers Choice Awards.
The results were published January 24, 2014, based on a total of about 15,000 reader votes cast both from in-paper ballots and online.
“We’re so pleased by this vote of confidence we have received from the community,” said Janis Rivers, housing manager at Ecumen Centennial House. “We pride ourselves on the care we provide, and it’s an honor to be recognized in this way.”
Ecumen Centennial House provides assisted living, memory care and home care. For more information go to www.centennial-house.org.
Ecumen Le Center’s “Sweet Pea”—The Caring Cat Who Marks Time
Sweet Pea knows when you need her, even if you don’t know. Even if you don’t like cats, she will be there for you, letting you know she cares, as if it is her duty.
Sweet Pea knows things that people don’t know. This is just a fact.
Sweet Pea lives at Ecumen Le Center in Le Center, Minn. She is smart, warm, caring, energetic and persistent. She will come to you when the time is right. If you want her close to you, she will cuddle. If you don’t, she will find some place to hold her vigil where she can be with you, but not in your way. She will know what to do and when.
Sweet Pea has no pedigree. She was a feral cat until she was taken in by Dr. Jean Craig, a family medicine physician in New Prague. Dr. Craig helps both people and cats.
Dr. Craig has patients at Ecumen Le Center. One day this past summer, she prescribed a cat.
Dr. Craig has no solid medical evidence but believes cats can make some people feel better. They can have a soothing, palliative effect. She had written a paper about it in medical school. Anyway, she told Chris Carter, the Ecumen Le Center housing director, you can always bring Sweet Pea back if she doesn’t work out.
Chris is not a cat person but said, okay, she would try it. So she got all the cat accessories to make a home for Sweet Pea—a bed, a litter box, some cat toys. For the first two or three weeks, Sweet Pea was shy and reserved. She hung out in Chris’s office, sitting on the desk, walking on the keyboard, doing cat things. Then she slowly ventured out, sizing up the residents, figuring out who liked her and who didn’t.
LaVonne was a resident in her eighties. She stayed in her room much of the time. Sweet Pea started coming to visit, and LaVonne loved having her. Then LaVonne started coming out of her room for meals, until she began feeling weak. That’s when Sweet Pea started sleeping on the bed with LaVonne and refusing to leave the room. Just leave her with me, LaVonne said. I love having her.
Addie was 98. She didn’t like cats. So Sweet Pea respectfully didn’t climb on her bed. She just stayed on the chair in Addie’s room.
Ruth didn’t much like Sweet Pea either. But tolerated her. Sweet Pea would lie in the hallway outside Ruth’s room, or sit under the table when Ruth was reading.
Pearl adored Sweet Pea. So, when the time came, the cat slept on her bed.
And just last week, Sweet Pea came to see Barbara, the lady who gently teased her with a stuffed dog named “Pup.” Barbara would make barking sounds and wave Pup around to get Sweet Pea’s attention. About a week ago, Barbara, 95, became ill. Sweet Pea crawled on Barbara’s bed when the time seemed right, and Barbara put her hand on Sweet Pea. And that was the last thing she did.
With all five women, Sweet Pea knew what was about to happen and exactly when she needed to be there. First LaVonne died, and Sweet Pea was there on the bed with her when she took her last breath, after holding vigil for several days. Then Addie died, and Sweet Pea was there in the room on the chair. Then Ruth died, and Sweet Pea was right outside the door in the hallway. And when Pearl’s family gathered at her bedside for the last time, Sweet Pea was there with them. And with Barbara, Sweet Pea started visiting regularly about a week before the night Barbara petted her for the last time.
It’s hard to explain, but after five times, it’s not a coincidence. Sweet Pea knew.
A Super Bowl Star’s On-Going Contest with Dementia
As Super Bowl Week builds with excitement, Dallas Cowboys legend Rayfield Wright goes about his life in a fog of dementia. He played in five Super Bowls, helped win two, and even 35 years after retirement is still considered one of the best offensive linemen who ever played the game. But now he is broke— physically, mentally and financially.
Wright, 68, is one of the 4,500 former NFL players suing the league for compensation for repeated head injuries suffered while playing the game. Studies have repeatedly shown that NFL players have dementia, Alzheimer’s and other neurological diseases with greater frequency than the general population. The lawsuit, currently in the settlement process, contends the NFL concealed what it knew about head injuries.
In a moving profile of Wright, The New York Times’ Juliet Macur reminds us of the price our Super Bowl heroes sometimes pay. Wright can’t make ends meet on his $82.20 a month NFL pension after years of dealing with medical bills associated with his repeated head injuries. In his 13 seasons with the Cowboys, “Big Cat” sustained “more concussions that I can count,” including one during his first NFL start in 1969.
Top 10 Trends in Senior Housing for 2014
You may have heard that “80 is the new 65.” Longevity is a force driving many trends, especially because Boomers have a different attitude about aging than the generation before them. Two big variables— money and health—are fundamental to how seniors will face the future. For a deeper insight in how all this is unfolding go to “Top 10 Trends in Senior Housing for 2014,”published by Senior Housing News, a leading trade publication. Let us know if there are trends you would add.
Ecumen Blogger Jim Klobuchar: A Post Office Love Affair
Once every five or six minutes the pre-Christmas line in the post office where I live revealed heroic symptoms of actually moving.
If you stood on tiptoe you could catch sight of the postal worker explaining the difference between regular and express mail to a customer who wanted to ship four cardboard boxes of honest-to-God Scandinavian cooking to relatives in Fresno, California.
The post office attendant waited while the customer consulted his wife. The line waited while they argued. The customer signaled triumphantly that he would take the expedited option. The line cheered. I joined them.
But the customer behind me grumbled.
“It’s a farce,” he said. “The post office in this country is dying. They’re trying to do this stuff on the cheap. They’re selling some of their buildings to pizza joints. They haven’t got enough money to handle the business they do get at rush time.”
I didn’t ask him, but he’s probably not going to ship his Viking horns to his grandpa in Scottsdale by postal express.
There clearly is a powerful demand and need for private express shipping in America today. It’s a critical part of today’s commerce and offers a speed of delivery around the clock with which the publicly supported post office cannot compete.
But I don’t think we want to see the post office disappear. And I’m not sure that we can.
There’s obviously more than sentiment involved here. The private express fleets make much of the old postal services obsolete. Until the 1970s if you wanted get in touch with somebody miles away you wrote a letter or telephoned long distance. Today you send e-mail or pick up the cell phone. If you want to talk face to face with them — laughs, tears and all — that too is available on the big screen.
So the public’s post office has to grub along doing what is available and with reasonable speed—daily delivery of the mail to corner mail boxes. That’s not done, incidentally, with budgeted taxpayer money but basically with the money the postal service makes in providing its services. And, of course, the demand for its services is shrinking, in the letters we used to write. But its work load is still huge and some of it simply irreplaceable.
Yet what much of the public doesn’t know is that the private delivery services often work with the postal service. And it’s not as though the post office is content to pursue its business by forever increasing the cost of its “Forever” stamps. Those mailings you get from a hundred sources, the CDs you buy on the internet, the books you buy from Amazon—most of those are coming from the post office because that’s the cheapest way for thousands of businesses, churches, politicians and fundraisers to communicate.
And then add the mail you get from fundraisers who include two cents, or five cents or ten cents or more to shame you into contributing. Those, too, are coming in your postal box, but so, too, do your checks and your birthday card from grandma, who may be unfamiliar with Google and very probably unfamiliar with Skype.
All of this may not thrill you as much as a refund from the credit card company. But that too comes in the mail because, well, the country pretty much can’t get along without the post office and the service it provides—and the mostly courteous service, I have to say.
Maybe part of this reaches back to my love affair with the post office when I was growing up in northern Minnesota during the depths of the Great Depression.
Each family rented a small mail box at the community post office. As Christmas approached, in the midst of our two week recess from school, some of the kids would stake out a watching vigil not far from the family mail box. The boxes were small, and if mail arrived that was larger than the usual letter or magazine, the postal clerk would put a little red slip into the box announcing: “Parcel too large for box. Redeem at postal desk.”
I had four married aunts in Milwaukee at the time, all of them sisters, who had moved there after high school because jobs were available for women in the Milwaukee manufacturing plants. They never failed my brother and me at Christmas. And so when that little red slip announced itself in our mailbox, (I still remember the mailbox number— 208), we raced to pluck it out of the box and present it to one of the clerks, who would retrieve the package from Milwaukee.
We didn’t bolt for home immediately. I did say there were FOUR aunts, three still not heard from. So the scene played out again, and then again.
There’s more than sentiment here. The postal service in this country cannot be what it was as the prime and solitary delivery service. This is the age of men on the moon, automatic pilots, of superspeed and din, when screaming fans in the stadium decide who wins the game, when violence on the screen captivates our young people—as well as the old—and when the postman no longer rings twice because the postman is delivering mail to boxes on the curbs.
But he and she are not obsolete. They still have a need to fill. And for all the heat and jibes the public postal service takes, we don’t lessen that need by ignoring its struggles.