Mom loved her ice cream

We always had ice cream in the house when I was growing up. That’s why our “keeping cool” package on Page A1 brings back good memories for me.

My mom raised six boys alone, so money was always tight. But while we never had a Disneyland vacation or got cars on our 16th birthdays, Mom always made sure we had the small things that mattered. Like ice cream.

We ate it by the gallon, and we appreciated it.

Years later, mom developed vascular dementia and moved in with us.

It took its toll, and eventually she couldn’t recognize her grandkids or her sons.

She lived “in the moment.”

Mom grew agitated at times (it’s called sundowning), and she was often difficult to handle. But one thing usually calmed her down: Ice cream.

Later, I went to a seminar for caregivers and heard words I’ll never forget: “If they want pudding five times a day, give them pudding five times a day. It’s all about comfort with people who have dementia. ”

Music to my ears. We loaded up on the ice cream and Mom ate it every day, whenever she wanted.

It made life a bit more bearable.

One day, when we thought she was napping, Mom had actually left the house through an open garage door and was wandering the neighborhood. She fell in some gravel and we received a call from the fire department.

I drove over two streets and pulled up. Mom was in a lawn chair, and looked confused as she clutched her purse. She had a small scrape on her elbow.

When I came near, she grabbed my arm tightly, like a scared child.

“We can take her to the ER to have her checked out,” the paramedic said.

I looked at the fear in mom’s face, leaned over and whispered in her ear.

She gave me a big smile.

“No thanks,” I told him. “We’re going out for ice cream.”

— Dan Shearer