Homeless in Paris Homeless in Paris | Page 112

B"H oblivion. We'll zoom a lens and shine the spot my sister who is taking care of our old mo m flailing about in her bout with Alzheimer's that at the time of this editing during Passover 2016 has all but eaten my mother alive. I'm very much concerned to give emotional support to my sister by calling her frequently on the telephone. That ge m of a filial relationship preserved for decades on end was an outco me of the mitzvah to honor one's parents. Only giving has longevity. There was no way I could get to where mo m and sister are found, but the universal forces prevailed at that very conjecture in time and there I AM. Many aspects of my knowledge were reinforced or initiated during those seven weeks, as follows. Treatment of Alzheimer patients may set up recording sessions for the parents to freely video tape their dra mas of what life means to them, and perhaps make a more pleasant share than the way we might degrade the present circumstances surrounding one's imminent demise. Other film clips and photos can be incorporated into "Power Point" presentations in order to help the patient pass the time in a pleasurable mo ment. This will enable the caregive r to add this Play Back Session to the retinue of services to enhance the spirit of those suffering illness. Sometimes, the long-ter m me mories are easier to draw on than the recall of what has bee n stated a mo ment earlier. Long-term memories are fortified by repeated stimulation, and thus more easily preserved. Even shared mo ments of scanning through picture albums can be an investment that garners interest, while the principle re mains intact until old age. My mo m was imprisoned in an institution in which she had no outlet for productive involve ment with her life process; neither cooking nor cleaning, not even straightening up. Treatment centers for the geriatric could introduce such programs in a simulated setting as though an aspect of rehabilitation to prepare the m for the "ultimate return" to secure the freedo m called home (whose me mory they cherish, if only deep in their hearts ). The sounds o f my mother's bitter wailing pervade s over my sensibilities especially when I'm feeling sad; her acrid criticism , experienced as painful; only because of the insecurity over my lack in those facets of life. Her words are but exemplification of the concern she has for me. The forces of energy conducted by I AM in Safrascity were a n attempt to detach myself from the sensitivity to the past events in 112