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Caregiving Reality

Providing hope and encouragement to those facing the reality of caregiving

Support for Caregivers

Rundy Purdy speaking

Rundy Purdy, author of The Sea is Wide: A Memoir of Caregiving is an experienced caregiver and gifted speaker. With compassion and gentleness, he touches audiences by sharing his journey of hope through hard experiences. In his presentation he leads caregivers and their families through the often emotional and difficult subject of caregiving to bring out a fresh perspective. If you are interested in having him share his experience of caregiving along with a message of encouragement, perseverance, and love, then please go to: http://caregivingreality.com/speaking/

If you would like further updates on Rundy’s writing, speaking, and further caregiving support, sign up for our newsletter. Bonus: Everyone who signs up for the newsletter will receive a pdf of the first three chapters of the book absolutely free!

I had the privilege of taking part in a fantastic Caregiving Summit held in San Antonio Texas and hosted by the WellMD Foundation. I was asked to be one of the speakers, and attendees have the opportunity to purchase a copy of my book The Sea is Wide: A Memoir of Caregiving. Unfortunately, I sold out all the copies I brought before everyone had a chance to purchase a copy. So I told those who hadn’t got a copy that I would provide them with the opportunity to order a signed copy online.

And you can too.

Order an author signed paperback copy here: http://caregivingreality.com/store/


Photo Credit: Graceyphotograhy

Approximately 43.5 million caregivers have provided unpaid care to an adult or child in the last 12 months according to a National Alliance for Caregiving and AARP study in 2015. We all are going to know caregivers in our immediate circle of friends and family. Many of us currently know a caregiver, and some of us are a caregiver.

Those who are caregivers need support from the rest of the community. I have written a short article about how people can support caregivers. If you would like to know more about how to do that, you should read the article. If you are a caregiver, feel free to share the article with people in your life so that they can better understand how to support you!

Read it here: http://caregivingreality.com/articles/how-to-support-a-caregiver/


The Williamsport Home

An interesting, exciting, and sometimes stressful part of being a writer and a traveling speaker is the opportunity to see new places and meet new people. I am becoming well acquainted with my GPS, and its quirks. The GPS isn’t one of those new people I get to meet, but I am one of those people who talks back to the eternally bland voice telling me how to get where I must go. It does sometimes make bad choices, but I make more bad choices so I am getting better about being obedient to the device.

That being said, on the morning of October 17th I was becoming a little worried. I was schedule to begin speaking at The Williamsport Home in Williamsport PA at 11:25PM and Delores or Gloria (or whoever lives inside my GPS) had me driving on what seemed to be some very unused residential streets in the outskirts of Williamsport. It did not seem like the right way to reach a prominent care facility in the area. In fact, it didn’t seem like the way to reach much of anywhere. I had visions of ending up in some dead end street with no destination anywhere in sight. That particular GPS fiasco hadn’t happened yet in my travels, but there is always a first.

Happily, my dire thoughts didn’t come true. Somehow the back street sneakily connected to a somewhat more traveled road and I arrived comfortably before it was time for my talk to begin. After quick greeting with Hilary, the Alzheimer’s Association coordinator who spearheaded the event, and then a handshake with Don the director of the facility, I got my equipment and books squared away and settled in to listen to the speaker who was presenting before my talk.

The speakers were a pair addressing the legal aspects relating to finances and care. This is not my area of expertise, but I have attended enough events to be familiar with the general points surrounding federal support during this time of life. However, this was the first time I had heard a talk given which also addressed the particular legal issues of Pennsylvania. It was on this topic that I learned something new. According to the presenters, by Pennsylvania law if a person does not have a written directive stating that they do not want a feeding tube then one must be inserted when a demented person is no longer able to feed themselves–regardless of the wishes of the family. That I did not know, and it very effectively drove home their point: make your wishes known in advance and in writing.

Next it was my turn to speak.

Every audience is unique. No two people respond to my message in exactly the same way, and no crowd is exactly like any other. Many of the special moments and personal reactions are subtle–some are shared and some are not. But some differences between gatherings are more obvious–some crowds are more responsive, some ask more questions. That day at The Williamsport Home the most noticeable difference was the number of males attending. At most of my talks the audience is predominately female–reflecting the reality that the large majority of caregivers are females caring for a parent or a spouse. But when I faced this audience I saw that about half–if not more–were men. It was interesting, and quite unusual.

After my talk was finished I opened the time up for questions. This is often when some of the most poignant moments happen–when the people I have shared with now have a chance to share back. Sometimes the questions voiced are not really questions at all but more just a sharing of the hard things or scary things that someone is facing. I remember a event last year when an elderly gentleman spoke up about wanting to bring his wife home from the hospital. He was deeply moved with emotion but as he spoke it became clear that his words weren’t so much a question of how he might be able to bring his wife back home from the hospital but rather an anguished wrestling the the realization that by himself he was unable to care for her at home, and what was he going to do?

The questions which I have no good answer for are the hardest. I had another one of those questions at the end of my talk at The Williamsport Home. An older gentleman stood up and said with feeling that he had spent years caring for other people but what he was afraid of was when his time came would there be anyone there for him?

That man gave voice to the fear of so many elderly people. There is no trite answer to banish that concern. Every life situation is so complex there is no simple answer. I couldn’t promise the man that I would be there for him, and I didn’t even know if he had family. But it didn’t matter. The man wasn’t really looking for an answer from me. He just needed to give voice to the heart of what so many feel: “Who will be there for us?”

The event finished up with a luncheon. I always enjoy these sorts of events–no, not for the food in particular but because it provides a much more extended opportunity to interact with other caregivers, share more deeply, and hear their stories. So over soup and salad we shared more of our stories, and I signed a lot of books. Another unique part of this event was that the Rotary Club had provided a grant which was used to purchase a copy of my book for every one of the attendees. I thought this was fantastic way of providing a long lasting impact from the event, and was just one illustration of how Don and Hilary were both proactive about making the teaching session as good as possible. It was a great gathering, and I look forward to coming to Williamsport again in the future.

With the last book signed and the last attendee leaving I packed up and told my GPS to take me home. Delores, or Gloria, or whoever lives in my little device was in a peculiar mood. For some reason taking the highway back the way I had come was not good enough. Fifteen minutes into the journey home Miss Smarty-pants told me to get off the 70mph highway and take a 45mph back road. Okay, it might have been a few less miles–but that hardly accounts for the slow pace. Normally I’m pretty obedient but sometimes my old rebellion rises up. Two minutes into this change of route I decided, “Nope.” A quick U-turn and I was back on the superhighway, speeding home.

Sometimes you have to do things your own way.



The atmosphere was quiet and orderly as people began to trickle into the conference room in Oneonta NY on the morning of April 28th. The early arrivals soon swelled to a crowd, and by the start time of 10AM few seats remained empty. A murmur of chatting bubbled around the room, occasionally punctuated by a louder greeting as someone spotted a familiar face. An air of attentive expectation permeated the gathering.

In these special places I feel something peculiar: the sensation that all of us in the room are fellow warriors in a common battle. We all know the struggle of Alzheimer’s. There is an oddness in knowing that you share an intimate and painful struggle with a room full of strangers–but there is something comforting about it, too. Because in that room full of special people you know you are not alone, and they are not quite strangers. This common bond also makes it a bit easier to share vulnerable stories, which is what I was about to do.

After my caregiving journey I could have walked away and never looked back. Instead, I wrote a book and a year ago began traveling to share my story and encourage others. I don’t regret the choice, but there is a delicate balance when the story holds some tears and darkness. If I am not careful the sharing can become an endless dwelling on hard things and an inability to see beyond what is lost. But that is not what I want my sharing to be, and I always bring my story around to a better perspective. While I can honestly share in the sorrow we all know, I also bring us all back to some laughter and a deeper joy.

It is incredibly worthwhile to take others through this journey, but even after a year of speaking I still haven’t found it any easier. The story of Alzheimer’s is rough, and there is no way around that. Still, I know the words are important and so I speak them.

My speaking events last year ran into November after which I took a few months off from traveling to recuperate and prepare for the next year. This April conference was the opening of my new year of speaking events and so–even though I had prepared–I was feeling a bit rusty as I waited for the opening moments of my keynote address.

I needn’t have worried about being out of practice. When the event organizer finished her introduction I went up to speak and felt everything come back as if I had last spoken yesterday. It was my journey, it was their journey, and we would share it. Together we would walk through how to face Alzheimer’s.

I have a little metaphor for what Alzheimer’s is like. I say, “Imagine that your mind is your house, and Alzheimer’s is a thief that begins breaking into your house and stealing your stuff. At first you don’t notice that anything is missing, but as the days and months pass you begin to notice a few things are missing. They are only minor things so at first you aren’t worried. But as the months continue to pass you begin to notice more and more things in the house that is your mind are missing. And now you are worried. What is happening to all your possessions? Soon, whole rooms in your house are empty. Now you are scared. Eventually, someone tells you the name of this thief. Maybe it is your family, maybe your doctor. They tell you that this thief’s name is Alzheimer’s and it will steal everything you have until you have nothing left. And there is nothing you can do to stop that thief. That is what Alzheimer’s is like.”

I find the metaphor apt in illustrating how frustrated, scared, and helpless Alzheimer’s makes us feel. It catches the attention of an audience every time. From there we go on the journey.

When I give a presentation the best part–and at the same time the hardest part–is the reaction that comes from the audience. Attention and positive reaction lets me know I am making a connection with the audience. But then crying from the audience is also a sign that I am making a powerful connection. It is hard enough for me to keep my own composure when I am sharing the Alzheimer’s journey and it becomes nearly impossible when faced with people openly weeping because of how my story is touching their hearts.

My story that morning moved the conference audience as much as I have seen a group moved before–in all the good ways and in all the hard ways. There were several times when I had to look away from the front row because the sight of the tears there made it too hard for me to continue. It’s not a bad thing–sometimes the most important thing for us to do is share our griefs and sorrows–but it is hard. As the speaker I have to make it through the entire presentation.

Afterwards, people wanted to talk. Some just wanted to share how much they had been impacted by my story, others wanted to share their own. And still others wanted to give thanks or ask for encouragement in their own journey. It was a full day, overflowing with sharing. Most importantly, I think everyone left the conference feeling better equipped to take the Alzheimer’s journey with their loved one. That was the goal.

As an added bonus, the day was a fantastic start to the coming year of speaking events. I am looking forward to sharing with many more people. It will be a great year.


Would you like to have Rundy come speak in your area? He would love to share with your group, big or small. Contact him here.


Rundy Purdy speakingThis spring local author Rundy Purdy is coming to the Southern Tier of NY to share his caregiving story in three events. First he will be appearing as the keynote speaker for the Alzheimer’s Association Spring conference in Oneonta on April 28th, and then in May he will be providing two additional presentations at libraries in Endicott and Norwich.

The National Caregiver Alliance estimates that there are 34 million informal caregivers in the USA helping someone age 50+ in their life. This can be a difficult path to walk. Rundy, author of The Sea is Wide: A Memoir of Caregiving will be sharing a message of encouragement and hope for those facing the journey of caregiving. Come hear him speak and enjoy a time of support and inspiration.

Southern Tier Events

  • April 28th, 2016. Time: 9:30AM-4:15PM. Alzheimer’s Association Spring Caregiving Conference, Oneonta, NY. Holiday Inn Oneonta | 5206 NY-23 Oneonta, NY 13820. Phone: 607-547-1650 Detail page for this event here.
  • May 14th, 2016. Time: 1-3PM. George F Johnson Library 1001 Park St, Endicott, NY 13760. Phone (607) 757-2415. This event is for all types of caregivers. Detail page for this event here.
  • May 19th, 2016. Time: 6:30-8:00PM Guernsey Memorial Library, 3 Court St, Norwich, NY 13815. Phone (607) 334-4034. This event is for all types of caregivers. Detail page for this event here.


Rundy spent eight years providing full time personal care to his ailing grandparents in Vestal NY. His years of caregiving made a deep impact on him, and gave him a passion to help others through the difficult, but rewarding, experience of caregiving. His goal is to inspire and encourage others to overcome obstacles and become the most effective caregiver they can be.

While on his own caregiving journey, Rundy wrote a blog chronicling his experience which formed the basis for his book. During that time his writing was profiled on The New York Times blog “The New Old Age,” where his account of caregiving and Alzheimer’s was described as “touching as ‘Tuesdays With Morrie,’ as tender as John Bayley’s memoir of his wife, Iris Murdoch, and in many ways truer and more tough-minded than either.” With compassion, hope, and a strong doze of gritty realism, The Sea is Wide: A Memoir of Caregiving brings the light of hope to the voyage of caregiving

After reading the book Louise O’Keefe, PhD, CRNP said, “It is a must-read for those taking care of loved ones suffering from Alzheimer’s and for those in the medical and nursing profession. I will definitely recommend this book to my patients and nursing students.”

Drawing on his extensive caregiving experience, Rundy provides key insights on becoming a compassionate caregiver and understanding those in our care. In a combination of presentation and question and answer session, Rundy takes his audience through the caregiving struggle.

If you would like to hear Rundy share his experience of caregiving and discover the things he learned about perseverance and love, then come join us! All are welcome for these event of education and encouragement. Books will be available for purchase and author signing.


Relevant detailed event information and publicity for media is available on the details page for each event.  For media representatives looking for a publicity photo of the author, please go to the general publicity page on this website.


Some recent news about Alzheimer’s research.

It seems that women with Alzheimer’s keep their verbal ability longer than their male counterparts. This suggests that in general the more ability a person has (and the more they use it) the longer it will be before they lose it to Alzheimer’s.

Research on mice suggests memories are not lost. The researchers were careful to point out this has not been replicated on humans, and the particular method probably never well. Nonetheless, it is interesting. I will say I had already concluded from personal experience that memories are not wholly lost in Alzheimer’s–the connection to the memories are simply broken.


Hello all!

I just sent out the February Caregiving newsletter. If you are not subscribed you easily can add yourself with the option on the sidebar. If you would rather just read the newsletter online, you can do that here: http://eepurl.com/bRMNgH

Thanks for stopping by.


There is always something new in the caregiving world. This is a good thing. We have much to learn about caregiving and supporting caregivers. Recently a website called Carehood came to my attention. It looks like the name is a play off “neighborhood” except here you can find your “Care-hood.” Get it?

Okay, so they might not win an award for cleverness. But this is their idea:

CareHood is the place where caregivers go to learn what can help the people they love – and where their friends, family and community can pitch in and support them along their path.

As friends and family go through challenging times, whether because of serious health conditions, accidents or disasters, or normal but trying transitions in life, we know that their community will want to step in and help, but may not know how.

CareHood makes the process simple by recommending specific ways to help that are based on extensive research and consultation with medical professionals. Friends and family can build CarePackages that will make a real difference in the life of their loved ones.

In theory this is a great idea. (The general idea of helping is the same behind my own website here.) In practice, time will tell how successful this is in getting off the ground. I hope it is of help to some caregivers, and I hope people keep looking for inventive new ways to help caregivers.


Last week I sent out the January Newsletter. If you weren’t signed up to receive the newsletter at that time you can still read it online here: http://eepurl.com/bNNkuj There is some interesting stuff in there so take a look. (And if you’re not signed up you can consider joining to get the next newsletter!)


From an Atlantic article:

Today, the isolated village of Hogewey lies on the outskirts of Amsterdam in the small town of Wheesp. Dubbed “Dementia Village” by CNN, Hogewey is a cutting-edge elderly-care facility—roughly the size of 10 football fields—where residents are given the chance to live seemingly normal lives. With only 152 inhabitants, it’s run like a more benevolent version of The Truman Show, if The Truman Show were about dementia and Alzheimer’s patients. Like most small villages, it has its own town square, theater, garden, and post office. Unlike typical villages, however, this one has cameras monitoring residents every hour of every day, caretakers posing in street clothes, and only one door in and out of town, all part of a security system designed to keep the community safe. Friends and family are encouraged to visit. Some come every day. Last year, CNN reported that residents at Hogewey require fewer medications, eat better, live longer, and appear more joyful than those in standard elderly-care facilities.

More: http://www.theatlantic.com/health/archive/2014/11/the-dutch-village-where-everyone-has-dementia/382195/

It is good to see people exploring new ways of helping those who face Alzheimer’s. Anything that tries to give as close to a normal life as possible is a good thing. I would like to see more efforts in this direction.