A Warrior of Light

By Eileen Silverberg

Leave the guilty, overwhelmed, and bitter you behind. It's time to find the peace and happiness that shattered when you heard your parent's diagnosis: Alzheimer's. It's time to release your inner Warrior of Light.

A Warrior of Light tells the transformative journey of Eileen Silverberg, a Warrior who destroyed the feelings of guilt, bitterness, and overwhelm by reinventing herself and acquiring various tools, her shields and weapons. With an emphasis on self-care through meditation and Hawaiian-based practices, this book, with all of its tools, will help you release your Inner Warrior, just as Eileen did. By following the practices outlined in this book, she not only found peace and happiness but also formed a stronger bond with her mom.  

Through A Warrior of Light, Eileen guides all types of caregivers as they face challenges, helping them to relinquish self-sabotage, forgive themselves, deepen their spiritual practice, engage in self-care, and ultimately, find their own Inner Warrior. As you read her journey, you will repair your connection with yourself and become the best you.

So choose today to get rid of those judgments and limiting beliefs surrounding Alzheimer's patients and caregivers that are passed down from generation to generation, and instead connect deep within to find your own truths.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Eileen Silverberg
• Release date: Feb 2, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393928041

Book preview

Chapter One

Alzheimer’s – The Call

YOU MIGHT KNOW THE initial symptoms of Alzheimer’s. Most likely you remember some of those first signs you noticed your parents experiencing. I have never forgotten when I first noticed the signs.

Years ago, my mom, Tuti as we love to call her, was preparing to fly to visit us in Miami. It was Christmas season, and Tuti was going to stay with us for almost a full month. She was looking forward to spending those days with us as she has done for many years in the past. Being her favorite time of year, she was looking forward to celebrating Christmas, taking time off from work, and enjoying being part of all the celebration and invitations from our dear friends. For weeks before the trip, every time I called her and asked what she was up to, she responded with enthusiasm, What do you think? Well . . . packing. She wanted to make sure she brought everything for the different parties and activities. When she finally got to Miami, my mom only had a carry-on, which to my surprise was extremely light. It was not until bedtime when I started to help my mom unpack that I noticed she had brought no pants of any kind, no underwear, and none of her prescribed medications. I remembered being shocked and questioning her. Mostly, she was disturbed and dismissive. On the surface, it looked like a simple mistake. A forgotten task from too much work and too little time to plan. Yet, I recalled how many times my mom was supposedly packing. 

This is only one of the many instances I missed the real reason for such bizarre behavior. I had often dismissed mild personality changes and intellectual functions as her being tired and getting old. But when she started using imprecise language, I knew something was up. Tuti has always been a stickler for correct word usage. I couldn’t tell you precisely when I started noticing Tuti asking for that or this or those instead of using the correct name. For instance, during a Thanksgiving meal preparation, while cooking together, my mom, almost agitated, asked me to pass her that. At that moment my counter was filled with lots of thats: sweet potatoes, green beans, stuffing, marshmallows, you name it. 

When Tuti, in a flustered way, asked, How many times do I have to ask you to pass the green things next to the big chicken? undoubtedly, I was stunned! The green things were the green beans, and the big chicken . . . well, you get the drill! Just like a discouraged puppy when they drop their ears and show the white of their piercing eyes, I felt gloomy and dispirited. The feeling of discouragement came swiftly and easily, just like a falcon's ability to clock speed. 

The familiar loud screeching noise in my right ear startled me. I have the complete belief that this is one of the ways my angels communicate with me. In my experience, angelical guidance is very subtle; however, when they try to draw my attention and I fail to acknowledge their signs, they work overtime to make me aware. How is Tuti performing at her job? the screeching noise said. 

Tuti had worked for the same company for over thirty-eight years. Her job was very demanding. I remember clearly after my grandmother’s passing, my mom felt her workload was becoming a challenge. She was looking to reduce her level of stress and make her life more manageable while still contributing to her company. I believed then that she was just exhausted and somehow depressed after the passing of my grandmother. Looking back now, she probably was starting to notice she was not as sharp as she used to be and perhaps was deeply concerned. Her boss knew how stellar her performance had always been. As she used to say, Tuti, you are my eyes. I cannot trust anybody except you. I can’t help but think of how difficult it had to be to notice her abilities were slipping away. Listening to the screeching voice, I thought more about how her efforts at work had changed. I had no clear answers if her performance at work was poor, yet I was aware of her lack of enthusiasm, and she had stopped sharing her ideas on what she was doing to come up with innovative ways to approach different projects. She seemed to have fallen into the long-established process and protocol and seemed happy just to have a place to go and socialize. I could easily assess that my mom had stopped looking for ways to enthusiastically improve projects and situations at work. She opted out of seminars, conferences, and even important meetings. When everyone else was learning new things, she was convinced that she did not want more responsibility in her lap. I saw it as my mom getting older and tired, yet she had always shown a high level of professionalism. The few times I had asked why she had opted to stay home, she always responded with a semi-logical answer.

This was true when her company gave her a new Samsung cell phone. Tuti was excited to learn how to use the touch screen and get pictures and text us . . . but she never learned how to use the phone! 

Christmas time is my mom’s favorite time of year. She had been coming to Miami for twenty years to help me pick the Christmas tree, decorate it, and wrap presents. Since Christmas 2012, my mom had not wrapped a gift, nor had she wanted to actively participate in decorating the tree. Every bizarre behavior usually came accompanied by despair and distress, as she felt demoralized.

Knowing what I know now, my biggest and most useful advice to you is to shift the way you respond. I wish someone would have prepared me for these early stages. Wishing I would have dealt with it differently does not do any good for me now. However, I hope to help you by telling you how I responded so you can have a guide and reevaluate before reacting. Instead of questioning why she was taking so long to put a hook on an ornament, I wish I would have asked her if that was something she wanted to do. Taking her desires into consideration could have helped her not feel demoralized. Asking many questions at once or vague questions is a no-no. Instead of vague questions, I should have said, Mom, can you pass me the boxes with the red ornaments, the bows, and the white doves? I wish I would have allowed her to get distracted instead of demanding her to be faster. I wish I would have answered yes as many times as she asked Do you want another dove? instead of saying in an exasperated way followed by Are you okay, Mom? I thought you wanted to put the Christmas tree up with us? I could have decorated it before you got here faster. Yes, I wish I would have asked her to hold or hand me whatever ornament caught her attention and simply had her watch us put the Christmas tree up while we just blissfully listened to her favorite holiday music. Realizing that the early stages are the most frightening and difficult, not only for you but also for your parents, would have allowed me to look at it with a different focus from the get-go. 

Know this: you will not be able to change your parent’s feelings of downright anger or panic, which in reality is the underlying feeling of fear being manifested. However, you can shift yours. Clearly, it takes time to accept and experience the feelings of lost plans and dreams you will not be able to fulfill anymore with your parents. Taking time to look and explore what you are feeling is part of the healing process, but staying in that painful realization is completely up to you. Managing these feelings so you can move forward, be useful, and see the underlying blessings in your path is a labor of love worth taking. Being upset or becoming the 250-questions police officer will take you nowhere. From the day you start noticing these changes in behavior, prepare yourself for it to continue to happen often, and know you can’t afford being upset every time situations like this arise. 

The trick is to do something radically different. Training myself and my nervous system was my key to managing stress, which I know for sure will just increase with time. You may ask, how can I enjoy all these radical changes? Easy! Remember being a kid and being around friends who forgot their homework or lunch, and instead of being mad at them, you thought it was hilarious and got excited to help them figure it out. What if we train ourselves to celebrate and to feel good every time we notice our parents have forgotten something? Treating these situations like a kid, like they are the best time of your life, and laughing about it will make the situation lighter. If you have to fake laughing, that is okay with me. I encourage you to fake it. Do you know what happens when you fake laughter? Somehow you start laughing from the heart. Real laughter comes through. So . . . train yourself. This skill will train you not just with your parent’s situation but with other people and events you do not enjoy. I have been obsessed with the process of enriching my journey. Not to have perfect results, but to make my mom and my experience with her a better version of what Alzheimer’s/dementia is supposed to be. Remember, the key here is to free yourself from madness, from discomfort, and to find the light so you can help your parents while being as happy as possible. If, on the other hand, you decide to live the discovery of your parent’s Alzheimer’s disease with a sense of despair, you will bring and attract desperation into your world. To me, life is full of extraordinary beauty; changing the world’s perspective one Warrior of Light at a time is totally worth it.

LESSON #1:

Signs of Alzheimer’s start manifesting many years before any diagnosis is given.

LESSON #2:

When facing the disease, behave like a kid.

LESSON #3:

Smile . . . It is good for you.

Chapter Two

Crisis and The

Rise of the Warrior

WHEN I FIRST HEARD the diagnosis, it felt as if I was in the middle of an earthquake. Better yet, I felt like part of Salvador Dali’s famous painting The Persistence of Memory; just like the famous clock, I was . . . melting. It felt as if the seat I was sitting on, the floor, and the building, I mean everything, was fading away through the cracks of the walls in slow motion, and then a hole abruptly opened up, and everything had melted and dematerialized all at once. I felt just like the clock my mom had drawn at the doctor’s request. Distorted. I was in the middle of a crisis. Everything I thought I needed to be me was disappearing, and there at that moment, I had to reinvent myself. I had to redefine my faith. I knew deep inside I had the gift, or better said, I had cultivated the gift of looking at crises as opportunities to eliminate all which we think we need to be completed. I am convinced these moments come to merely make us realize that what we truly need is faith, and the feeling of certainty will balance the scale at the right moment. As Louis Hey always said, All is well in my world.

Well . . . to be