Tag Archives: caregiver

Lessons from Camp Ooga Booga

Posted on July 8, 2011 by Tom Laughon

Kenzie and Livi, two of my granddaughters,  have been with  Melissa and me in Richmond for almost a week.

We call this visit Camp Ooga Booga and our “campers” and their “counselors” have all had a ball! From a couple of great days canoeing and swimming on the James River to fireworks on Brown’s Island, we have had non-stop fun together.

Have I said how much we love these girls?

Kenzie and Livi have also learned a lot about about being great caregivers for their great grandmother, my mom, Helen.

Here are the five things they have learned and practiced:

  1. Talk s…l…o…w and one at a time.
  2. Look directly at Helen, get close to her and say your name every time.
  3. Play with Helen a lot.
  4. Give Helen lots of love.
  5. Stick with Helen.

The girls have memorized their lessons and have practiced with mom every chance they can get. It has really been fun to watch them in action and see how mom responds. It has been a positive experience for the “campers” as well as for their great grandmother.

That is with one exception.

Kenzie and Livi called a special secret Ooga Booga meeting with Melissa and me to complain that mom doesn’t follow the rules. “Helen doesn’t like to share her puzzles, baby doll and other things she plays with.”

When the girls try to play with them, mom grabs them back, holds them close to her and says, “That’s mine, you can’t have it!”

“Yeah, and she takes our toys, too,” Kenzie adds.

There was heavy duty tension in the air at Camp Oooga Booga!

I asked them what they thought they should do.

They both answered, “Nothing! Nothing we try works,” they said.

Kenzie added, “Helen is bigger than us!”

Then Livi had an idea.

Karate Kids“I know … we should do … Kung Fu!”

Kung Fu?! I didn’t have the heart to tell the Karate Kids that mom is pretty fast on her feet for a 91 year old, but hey, why not give it a shot.

Mom does need to relearn how to share.

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The South Will Rise Again

Posted on June 30, 2011 by Tom Laughon

On our drive to adult day care (a.k.a. mom’s workplace, where she lends a helping heart and hand to those in need), mom and I sing songs.

And I mean when we sing songs, we sing with the volume turned up to TEN!

I think, even with the windows rolled up, folks in other cars can see ours rocking and rolling and hear us loud enough to clap and sing along.

This is nothing new. As a family, we sang together like this our entire lives. I sang baritone, dad was the tenor, my sister, Nel, was the soprano and mom the alto.

Together, we made a joyful noise.

It made for good times and shorter trips.

With mom and me the only two in the family choir left standing, we have to make up for the missing harmonies with volume, and with that said, we don’t miss a beat!

One of mom’s favorite songs is Dixie. She sings it like she is standing at full attention and saluting.

However, when she gets to the “live and die in Dixie” part she stops us both from singing, looks at me with a worried look on her face and says, “I just don’t like that part!”

That’s my prompt to say, “Mom, what don’t you like about it?”

She says, “I don’t like the … you know … the die part.”

“Well, how about we sing, “live and live in Dixie?” I suggest.

She smiles with one of her patented light-up-the-world smiles and shouts, “You’ve got it! You are so good, so smart. You are my bestest friend in the whole world. You know everything. I love you so much.”

She repeats, “To live and live in Dixie!”

Then we sing it again with that one BIG change. And, you know what? It gives a whole new meaning to an old, old song.

At the end of the song mom raises both arms skyward and says, “I love that song. I love the south. I wouldn’t live anywhere else. I love living in the south … it’s called Dixie! To live and live in Dixie.”

It’s comforting to know the South will rise again tomorrow, same time, same place … driving mom to work.

My Side Note:

Mom was born in 1919 and raised in Richmond, Virginia, lived in Front Royal and Norfolk, Virginia before moving to Orangeburg, South Carolina and then Gainesville, Florida before coming full circle back to Richmond in 1970.

So, mom, and all of our family for that matter, have only lived in our beloved South.

There is something about the South that gets in your blood and does wonders for your heart and soul.

Thanks for being with mom and me on our journey. Please share your comments, insights and thoughts.

Oh, and please share mom’s and my blog with a friend.

The more on board, the merrier. 

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Who Threw In The Towel?

Posted on June 17, 2011 by Tom Laughon

In my last two posts, The Dirt on My Mom and Team Wash Mom vs. Mom, I gave you a ringside seat to watch the competition between mom and the staff at her day care. The competition pits professionals who know how to bathe and change clothes for folks who, for whatever reason(s), just don’t want to be bathed or to change clothes.

My mom is one of those folks.

Even though she is not a professional like the staff is, she sure knows what she does or doesn’t like to do. And when Helen Douglas Martin Laughon does not like something she has the fortitude, strength and determination to do what she damn well pleases. She stands only 4 foot tall, but cast one mighty intimidating shadow. Oh, and did I mention her voice, when agitated, sounds like a drill sergeant barking orders at new recruits.

Last week, the staff did wash and change mom, but they admitted it was so challenging that they really didn’t do a good job with either. And, mom was the last person standing and still flailing when it was halted before the tasks were properly completed.

So, the referee announced round one was a draw.

Today was supposed to be round two.

Guess what?

Team Wash Mom, after powwowing in the locker room,  just up and forfeited. Yep, the pros threw in the towel before the bell even rang to begin round two.

Their rationale was that they had traumatized mom and mom had traumatized them in the first go round and that they needed two or thee weeks to develop a more trusting relationship and environment before giving it another shot.

Now, I have two or three weeks to go where angels feared to tread.

Mr. Clean (that’s my new, improved, Super Hero persona) is going to take on the greatest challenge ever.

Maybe, with your help, ideas and encouragement, we can do what Team Wash Mom has yet to prove they can do.

“There were too many challenges to enumerate….Good way to grow up, though! Never thought I’d survive, lol, but I did, and the better for it. Obstacles in life are the challenge. Without the challenge, we are empty shells. After overcoming the challenges, we are empowered either by God’s grace, or the devils illusions, depending on how we overcame them. It is 10 years behind me now. Enough to have some insight. My mom was 93.”  – Bion Schouten

Bion, thanks for being with me every step of the way. I am so blessed to have you as my friend. – Tom

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Team Wash Mom vs. Mom

Posted on June 14, 2011 by Tom Laughon

If you read my last post, “The Dirt on My Mom”, you know we gave the staff at mom’s day care the ultimate challenge: Clean Mom!

In order for them to accomplish the mission, I suggested they recruit a sumo wrestler and call up the National Guard.

After much deliberation, the staff decided to go it alone … after all, they are professionals.

So here’s what happened.

Round one was hard fought from the get go by two worthy opponents, both road tested and ring worthy … bathtub ring that is.  And, both were hell bent and determined to win.

It was obvious from the look in the eyes of the competitors, no one was going to be throwing in the towel or waving surrender.

After both sides tested the waters, it got pretty down and dirty. And, although Team Wash Mom did technically wash and change mom, mom continued to prove she was in it to win it!

She countered their every move both physically and verbally with a “float like a butterfly, sting like a bee” mindset.  Thanks to her instincts, wit and determination, the whole washing experience left a lot to be desired and TWM knew it.

It was not their finest moment.

When the bell rang to signal the end of round one, the referee called it (dramatic pause) a draw!

Team Wash Mom, both weary and wary, was just thankful that there would be a round two, and that it would be scheduled one whole week afer round one. That would give them plenty of time to refresh and rethink their strategy and tactics before giving it another go.

No matter how much I warned them about my mom, her cunning and willpower, they obviously underestimated her … to them she was ninety-one and they had met this challenge with many a nonagenarian prior to her. Next time around they would be more prepared.

In the meantime, I shared in “The Dirt on My Mom” post that I had taken on the role of the new, improved Super Hero, Mr. Clean!

My mantra is , “Fight Dirty! Keep It Clean!”

In order to clean up this old world of ours (as well as my mom) my super strategy was to incorporate the help of other Super Heroes, and the staff at mom’s adult day care are indeed Super Heroes. They are amazing!

You have to be a special breed of humans to be caregivers. Their biggest challenge they have is taking time to care for themselves, because of how much time they devote to caring for others. I love and respect you Super Heroes, one and all.

I have adopted the classic Mr. Clean jingle from commercials produced way back in the fifties as my OFFICIAL Super Hero theme song.

Mom would have been in her thirties and I would have been in elementary school when this was bouncing out of TV screens everywhere.

Come to think of it, that’s about the time we got our first television set.

Time flies when you’re singing Super Hero songs and having good clean fun!

That’s all for now.

I’ll be ringside for round two to give you a blow-by-blow commentary and share with the world the referee’s decision.

My prediction is this competition is far from over.

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Watch Out for the Little Lady on the Big Wheels!

Posted on May 28, 2011 by Tom Laughon


Today, Melissa and I took mom to the Lewis Ginter Botanical Gardens in Richmond, Virginia. The flowers were in full bloom and putting on a show for all of us. The sky was slightly overcast, which made it perfect for mom. So, once we convinced her that a wheelchair ride would be a fun thing and assured her that we knew she could walk anywhere she chose to, we were off to explore and enjoy each other and the day. We could tell mom was excited, because she was humming and wanting to stop, look and touch anything and everything that had a leaf or a bloom on it.

Mom has never met a stranger in her whole life, and there is no one within her eyesight that doesn’t get a greeting, a question or a comment. Here are a few samples, all from today.

  • “Hi there, sweetheart, isn’t it a beautiful day.” 
  • “You are the prettiest thing! Look at that beautiful dress you have on.” 
  • “I love these flowers, don’t you?”
  • “Hey there, boy! You have the bestest (mom’s word) smile I’ve ever seen!”
  • “Where are you from?”  This was the most frequently asked question of the day. If the answer was, not from Richmond, mom would volunteer to show them around the city after informing them she was born here and that her father was Dr. B.H. Martin “Dr. Berkeley Hancock Martin … the best doctor Richmond has ever had.”

Interspersed with the exchanges above were the following:

  • “That man has the roundest, shortest legs I have seen, do you see those legs, son?”
  • When a well endowed lady in a low cut shirt walked within earshot mom said, that woman has the largest you-know-whats I have ever seen and more than I ever want to see.” Mom then put her hands over her eyes while shaking her head.
  • “I love your hair! I love your teeth, too. They are really something, aren’t they?!”
  • When we asked directions to the tea room and a couple from out of town replied that they didn’t know, mom said, “Dumbest people … they don’t know a damn thing” before we could get away fast enough.
  • She said, “hey girl,” to a long haired teenage boy.
  • She said, “hey boy,” to a short haired lady.
  • While on the subject of hair, mom asked one little lady if she had blue hair.
  • “Hey, I bet you are pretty when you smile!”
  • “Hey there, do you want to sing, This Little Light of Mine, with me?”
  • “Mom said, “hey … hey there” to a Hispanic man, and when he didn’t answer, she looked at Melissa and loudly exclaimed, “I don’t think he speaks English, do you?”

After what was a non-stop-laugh-a-second, don’t-make-eye-contact-with-anyone-mom-might have offended, hide-your-face adventure, I whispered to Melissa, we are going to print a banner that would go wherever we took mom from now own that would read, in BIG BOLD LETTERS:

DISCLAIMER: The opinions expressed by my 91 year old mom do not necessarily reflect those of anyone in our immediate family or friends of anyone in our immediate family. Engage at your own risk. Don’t say we didn’t warn you.

As we rolled mom to the car, she was singing the Star Spangled Banner at the top of her voice. And, by the way, this lady has some pipes. Folks just coming to the gardens didn’t know whether to salute, sing along or run back to the safety of their cars.

We had a blast!

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Mom’s New Walker

Posted on May 23, 2011 by Tom Laughon

Mom does walk some, but it takes her lots of little steps to make one regular step.

And, when she starts swaying like a palm tree in a hurricane she gives anyone watching a major heart stopping moment.

You just know that little palm is about to make a crash landing and when it does,  you’ll be the one that has to put dear old mom back together again.

I think she would break into 91 pieces. One for every year she has been on this planet. And, she doesn’t come with reconstruction instructions. She doesn’t come with a guarantee or warranty. And I am sure there is a no return policy in place. You broke it you bought it.

So, my wife, Melissa and her mom, Barbara, bought my mom a used walker for just $4.99 at the Salvation Army. Great walker, unbelievable price (cheap, cheap, cheap) and it was indeed going to be both our and mom’s salvation.

Only one little problem. Mom wouldn’t walk with the walker and the walker didn’t seem to want to walk alone. “I have never used anything to help me walk in my life, and I am not going to start now,” she uttered. Finally I told her it was the only way we would allow her to go to the john (her word). No walker. No john.

Nature has a way of lending a helping hand, because when nature calls and the only way your son will let you go to the john is with the walker, you learn how to use the walker! Fast!

So now that the walker is a part of the extended family and goes where the rest of the family does not want to go, it has a name.

We call it Johnny Walker, because that what it does!

Now if we can just teach Johnny Walker how to flush.

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A Gift to be Simple

Posted on May 22, 2011 by Tom Laughon

“You are the best thing in the world and I love you very much.” – My Mom

Mom says this or variations of this to me at least ninety-one times a day.

If you ask her, she doesn’t know how old she is. And, when you tell her ninety-one, she says, like every woman on this planet would say,  “Not me, you are talking about somebody else … not me!”

So, my only explanation for how she repeats herself around ninety-one times a day is that it is just meant to be.

In one simple line, mom gives me all I need to keep going and going strong. No, not just strong, but best-in-the-world-strong. Can’t let your mom down, can you? It has become my mantra and when she is not telling me, I repeat it to myself, over and over and over.

Simple!

Speaking of simple, here’s my mom’s (and my sister’s) favorite song. I can’t tell you the number of times I have heard them sing it together. And they would always teach anyone in their presence how to sing it with them. They would always stand and do a little dance in perfect unison when they sang … especially on the turning, turning part.

So, here’s a gift from mom and me to you. It’s an old Shaker folk song that was sung at Obama’s inauguration, Simple Gifts.

Don’t forget to turn!

‘Tis a gift to be simple, ’tis a gift to be free,

‘Tis a gift to come down where we ought to be,

And when we find ourselves in the place just right,

‘Twill be in the valley of love and delight.

When true simplicity is gain’d,

To bow and to bend we shan’t be asham’d,

To turn, turn will be our delight,

‘Till by turning, turning we come round right.


At 91, my mom is counting on me. And, with just a few words and many unspoken ways, she’s telling me she is counting on me … ninety-one times a day.

“You are the best thing in the world and I love you very much.”

It’s that simple.

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