Anchorage Daily News

A fter pausing by the lone bench in front of a Sydney Laurence painting during a short tour of the gallery, Nola Lowe grabs her mother's hands and beckons her to stand up. "Come on, Mom. Let's go make some art."

Her eyes locked on her daughter, LaDonna Russell hums as she rises, the two of them swaying hand in hand as they belt out a few lines of an old rock and roll song, "You've got to shake, rattle and roll. You've got to shake, rattle and roll."

Nearly 10 years after showing the first signs of dementia, LaDonna, 71, can no longer hold a conversation. But she can sing. She even joins in on a few tunes she wrote herself long ago, like the "Mammogram Song" or that hilarious little ditty about her ex-husband.

"Early on she used to play piano," says Nola. "She could do it for the longest time. She could read music even after she stopped being able to read words."

Though LaDonna can't read anymore, she still walks, hums, sings and makes art. The mother and daughter still do almost everything together, like today's art therapy session at the Anchorage Museum at Rasmuson Center, where both draw with watercolor markers and peer at each other's work.

"For Mom with her dementia, this helps her focus," says Nola, handing her mother a different color pen. "It keeps her mind at ease."

CREATIVE CONNECTIONS

When dedicating a poem to her daughter almost 20 years ago, LaDonna wrote, "To my daughter, Nola, who helps the sun to set and rise in my soul."

The two have been best friends forever, said Nola, 44. They have always lived near each other, even before Nola started caring for her mother almost nine years ago. Last summer, the two moved into a single-story ranch house in Palmer to get away from the street noise and sirens of downtown Anchorage.

"In the summer we can walk outside and it's quiet," said Nola, "and fireweed comes up right outside the window."

Just a few blocks off Palmer- Fishhook Road, the house sits at the end of a cul-de-sac, peaceful but not far from the main road.

Mike Torrance, an old friend to them both, says he can't think of a better arrangement.

"Nola gets her out. They go to church. They come to our house. They go to the grocery store. Nola keeps her in the community and that helps keep what's left of her (mother's) mentality intact."

LaDonna draws all the time, whether alone at the kitchen table or sitting next to the two girls Nola takes care of two days a week. "If she's not doing this, she'll just shut down," said Nola.

Sheryl Frye, the mother of those two girls who exchange caretaking duties with Nola, finds LaDonna's company quite comforting. "She's quiet, but you have this spiritual connection without all the chatter and talking. Even though she doesn't talk -- and obviously is not all there -- she thinks, she feels and she knows what she wants to do."

Nola always knew her mother as a creative person, whether through poems, music or collage. In a way, dementia has released another aspect of her creative self, she said.

As Torrance sees it, creativity "is kind of locked inside her and doing art is tremendously important. It's activating some part of the brain, even if she can't talk about it."

Art therapists believe art-making can help jog memories and create a sense of accomplishment for people with Alzheimer's and dementia, said June Gerteisen, the organizer of the "Museum Memory" classes at the museum.

LaDonna's drawings exhibit the graphic symptoms of impairment in abstract memory and thinking, along with a loss of language, said Gerteisen, who has a master's degree in art therapy and family and marital therapy. But they also show that she's still making connections.

Nola sees that connectivity in daily life as well. LaDonna doesn't know Nola as her "daughter" anymore, but when Nola shows up after some time away, "she grabs my hands and just keeps rubbing them, always keeping eye contact."

MAKING IT WORK

As her mother's principal caretaker, Nola works nonstop and gets breaks only when she can arrange them. Social security, disability, Medicaid and state wages as a full-time caretaker cover their financial needs. But Nola had to give up career options to care for her mother at home. She used to help run a flooring business, got her bachelor's degree in journalism and never imagined caring for her mother as an occupation.

She hasn't dated in years, she said, and struggles to find the resources and validation to give her the encouragement and knowledge she needs to do her job.

Not everyone can afford to take care of loved ones at home, but those who do often burn out because of nonstop demands and frustrations, said Patricia Lange, a care coordinator for Consumer Direct Personal Care, a vendor for the Division of Senior and Disability Services, the Department of Health and Social Services.

People like Lange help get information out about resources like the Savvy Caretaker class through the Alzheimer's Resource Agency of Alaska. Nola took the class many years after she started taking care of her mother and found it an invaluable resource.

"If there's one thing I learned in that class, it's that family conflict is a big issue," she said.

Ongoing strife between sisters makes her job difficult, she said. Even her marriage crumbled, in part, because of the stress of her wanting to care for her mother.

"People get embarrassed about this stuff," said Lange, "but you've got those who want to take care of the person day to day, and then you've got those who want to have a say, but not everyday contact, and then you've got a mother you loved, admired and respected and then, as it (dementia) progresses, you're dealing with childlike behavior."

Nola credits good old-fashioned faith and acceptance as her guides. "I'm aware she'll eventually decline. But I'm also aware that right now she's content, happy, healthy. She's drug free and disease free, and I think that's why I don't see the anger and other negative behaviors."

Along the way, Nola had to figure out how to take care of herself too. Last March she headed off on a long vacation for the first time in years.

Things did not turn out rosy.

The fill-in caregiver had plenty of experience, but LaDonna quietly vanished during a church service, spending a cold night in someone's backyard while Nola slept in Hawaii.

Nola's eyes still water just thinking about it. "I hadn't lost her in nine years, but it only takes once."

Now LaDonna wears a transmitter around her wrist while Nola keeps her vacation plans at bay. The way Nola sees it, her's is an around-the-clock, year-round job she plans on doing right.

"The reward is in seeing the fruits of my labor, in seeing Mom disease-free, in seeing her do art, in seeing her peaceful, in seeing the good effects of healthy eating and exercise."

And in seeing her best friend clutch the colors of the world every way she can.

Find Dawnell Smith online at adn.com/contact/dsmith or call 257-4587.

Museum memories

Classes for Alzheimer patients and caregivers will resume in the fall with a tentative schedule of one-hour sessions at 10:30 a.m. Mondays. If interested, contact the education department of the Anchorage Museum at Rasmuson Center (www.anchoragemuseum.org, 343-6185).

ON EXHIBIT

SPECIAL ART: While in the museum, look for LaDonna Russell's art in the hallway to the education office.

RESOURCES FOR CAREGIVERS:

Alzheimer's Foundation of American

www.alzfdn.org

Alzheimer's Resource Center of Alaska

www.alzalaska.org

State of Alaska Department of Health and Human Services

www.hss.state.ak.us

American Art Therapy Association

www.arttherapy.org

Arts in Therapy Network

www.artsintherapy.com

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