Liz Johnson

Nanny's last Mother's Day, 2010.

How did I get involved with BVB? 

My nanny brought me here...

I loved my nanny so much. She was warm and cozy and always smelled like the perfect mix of flowers and ivory soap. She was constantly feeding me, hugging me and making sure I was warm (socks were required even in the middle of July). She was classy and reserved and beautifully dressed. She was sneaky too. She would slip me $100 bills whenever I was home from college and would make me promise not to tell anyone. She would tell my brother and I both separately that we were her favorite grandchild but would always later deny it when we tried to make her choose.

 I spent much of my time with Nanny eating her linguine with zucchini and trying on her fancy high heeled shoes. My best memories always revolved around our sleepovers which included our many trips to Baskin-Robbins for scoops of coconut ice cream (our favorite) and playing poker with the family from my throne (Nanny's lap). As I got older, Nanny's (and Papa's) role in my life changed, but the stability I felt from them always remained the same. They were always there, always available and always made me feel loved unconditionally. But as I reached my mid-twenties, this all started to change. While Nanny was still "there", she wasn't really...

  

When you hear about Alzheimer's, you often hear about the "stages." This is how the "stages" went for us:

There were little signs at first: lost keys and wallets, giving the cashier at the grocery store a $100 instead of a $20 and not expecting any change, getting "lost" in the mall. Then the signs got bigger: Nanny would vacuum the house (but the vacuum wasn't plugged in). Next came the day of no-pants: My aunt was coming to the house to pick up my grandmother to take her to lunch and Nanny (always very reserved) answered the front door, in a very busy neighborhood, with nothing on but a shirt. Later came refusing to bathe, refusing to eat, and then eventually an inability to walk and speak. Lastly the ability to swallow. 

We were very lucky. For us, while the final stage lacked speech and mobility, it certainly didn't lack love. In the moments when my grandmother was lucid, she gave us (me especially) more kisses, winks and hand squeezes than I ever could have hoped for. Her love transcended so many physical and mental barriers and words can't express how grateful I am for this. 

During her last hours of her last day, she spent the afternoon taking a nap at home with my grandfather (side by side in their recliners) and passed in her sleep. It was a near perfect ending to a 60 year love story.

So what do I keep playing year after year?

BVB is excitement, friendship, athleticism and philanthropy all rolled into one fabulous football season. I have developed life long friendships, become an expert in football (this is not entirely true), learned that even though I'm not 17 anymore - I can still kick butt on the field, had embarrassing amounts of fun and most importantly, helped raise over $250,000 for Alzheimer's!

I play...

…in MEMORY of my Nanny, Anita Sarle, who suffered from the disease for five years. Alzheimer's robbed her of her ability to walk, to talk, to control her body, and in the end..to live. I play in HONOR of my mother and grandfather who cared for her daily until her passing. I play in SUPPORT of the family members who mourn, the caretakers who give, the doctors who aid and the researchers who learn. I play for everyone who suffers because of this disease. And I play in HOPE that if we raised enough funds for research...we will find a CURE.

GO BLONDES!

xo,

Liz 

Alexis Cibrano

When I sat down to do my Player Spotlight I started feeling overwhelmed by the task.  How could I possibly put my motivation to the cause into words without writing a novel?  How could I express the emotions deep inside my stomach and heart without sounding dramatic?  Lastly, how can I answer the question “who are you playing to honor?”  without making my own enormous Memory Wall?

I am playing to honor 5.4 million Americans.  I am playing to honor 250,000 New Yorkers. I am playing to honor their caregivers, family members, my fellow staff members and coworkers in the health care industry who are learning how to provide the best possible care for the dementia affected.  I am playing for my clients.  Lastly, and importantly, I am playing to end the silenced pain of those who have not yet sought help.

I am currently a long-term care social worker in a nursing home in NYC; it is with great pride and satisfaction that I am assigned to the dementia care unit in our facility.  Each and every day I see the moments of pain, struggle, anxiety, fear, laughter, joy, and innocence this disease brings to individuals and families alike. I see the fear of the unknown, the coming changes, and the angst and guilt that often comes with placing your loved one in a nursing home.  I see the confusion that comes with “trying to do the right thing.”  I see moments of lucidity, smiles, laughter, and innocence.  I see strength.  I see resilience, adapting, and coping.  I see effort; trying to hold onto who you are, who you know, what you know.  I see need for support, education, interaction, a listening ear, and guidance.  I see the frustration in someone’s eyes when they can’t verbally express themselves anymore, when words no longer have meaning; I see the hurt in a family member when their loved one no longer recognizes them.  I see the anxiety families go through when trying to navigate end-stage health care.  I see the anger when someone is no longer able to do for herself.  I see the pain of feeling stigmatized and infantilized. I see the fear of showering, feeding, and receiving care when the intentions of others are indiscernible.  I see the loneliness, loss of self and others, financial strain; being robbed of your life, the guilt of being a “burden” on your family.  I see the disease slowly start to take over, I see tears of defeat; I see the inability to stop it, the helplessness, succumbing to the inevitable.  I see universality; I see the ripples reaching far and wide.  I see so much taken, and yet so much given.

I see no better time to act, to learn, to teach. 

I feel a sense of community, a commitment to spreading that sentiment to all. 

That’s why I choose this cause, that’s why I choose the Alzheimer’s Association.

Kirsten Peissel

My grandmother, Nana as we call her, was one of the sweetest women I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. Her skills at a sewing machine inspired me early on to pursue a career in the fashion industry. Her talents certainly did not end there. Whether she was making her world famous bacon spaghetti sauce or sending me and my siblings just because packages, she added her magic touch to everything. She was a very imaginative story teller when bed time came around and she always had a fresh 98 pack of Crayola crayons for me and my brother when we would visit. On our weekend visits, Nana would have her friends over for coffee, and as an aspiring movie star at the time, I would act as their entertainment, singing whatever song I had recently mastered. She would be sad to know that I have yet to make my Broadway debut. As am I.

I remember very excitedly finding one of my mom's child hood baby doll cribs in the basement at Nana's house. I had a baby doll, and a baby doll bed, but no bedding. I needed bedding THAT night. So Nana, being the sweet lady that she is stayed up with me past midnight to sew brand new bedding (blanket, sheets, pillow, and any/all other totally unnecessary bedding for a baby doll) for the crib so my baby doll could sleep tightly. This woman was a saint. I took up an interest in sewing some years after that and began making things myself. In high school I made a tote bag out of upholstery fabric that turned out perfectly. Since over the years Nana had made so many nice things for me, I decided to give her the first thing I ever made with a sewing machine. We were visiting for the weekend and I was so excited to give her the bag that Friday. She was so impressed with my sewing skills and loved the bag. On Sunday, when it was time to go, she came up to me and told me that she had made me something. Excited, I followed her to the sewing room to receive the very bag that I had made for her as a gift. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. This was when I knew something wasn't right. Nana was diagnosed with Alzheimers disease. 

Soon after, she began to lose her talents in the kitchen and at the sewing machine, and has since lost control of her mind and body. Though she is still living, I now have only memories of the sweet grandmother that I was so fortunate to have as a child growing up. For almost 12 years she has not been able to care for herself and doesn’t remember any of us. We have slowly watched this awful disease take away the sweet woman we love so dearly. When I heard about the opportunity to raise money for Alzheimer's research, awareness, and care with a group of people who struggle with the same heavy heart that I do, I was thrilled. I am so excited for game day, but more importantly to promote a cause that could help Nana and other people like her. 

On May 18th, when I put on my Blondes jersey and strap on my shoes, I will be playing for Nana. 

Sari Placona

Why am I playing? Let me tell you in two words: MY GRANDMA! But she wasn't just my grandma, she was my friend.

I am 30 years old and recently lost my grandmother in August 2012.  My grandma, Miriam Bertan, more commonly known as Minnie, suffered from a form of Dementia.  Although she did not have Dementia for years, she had an onset of it for about a year.  However, of what I can tell you, the disease is AWFUL!  We found out she had a brain tumor coupled with stage 4 lung cancer.  You hear this and you instantly cry!  To watch someone you love suffer from these debilitating diseases is heart wrenching.  She wouldn’t know where she was.  She would start to ask the same questions over and over again.  She would even say some inappropriate things, which at some times were pretty funny.  In the beginning you laugh, because it probably makes you feel better than to cry, but as time goes on, you start to get sad.  How can I help this person I love?  What other things does she not remember?  But one thing she did not forget was me, along with her other five grandchildren.  

Now, I can sit here and tell you of the really sad moments when she didn’t remember what day it was, where she was, or her instantaneous mood changes, but I am choosing to focus on the positive things.  My grandma was blessed to have the most amazing husband, two marvelous daughters, two great son-in-laws, six grandchildren, and 4 great grandchildren.  I always felt so lucky to grow up with my grandparents living one mile down the road from me.  They weren’t just my grandparents, two people who you occasionally have to see here and there, they were my support.  I actually loved being around them.  I got to see my grandmother if not once a week, then several times a week.  My grandparents would always support me as a young athlete, whether it was at my soccer or softball games.  My grandmother loved to gamble, whether it was in Atlantic City or Vegas.  If there was a slot machine in site, Minnie would be there.  Although she didn’t always win at slots, I would say she was pretty lucky in life being that family is everything!

I cannot remember an exciting part of my life where my grandparents were not a part of it.  So as I sit here writing this piece about why I am playing in my first Blondes v. Brunettes fundraising game, I am sad that they are no longer with us, yet I am full of amazing memories to hold on to for a lifetime.  If I am able to be a part of something that helps to raise money and try to cure this terrible disease, I say why not?!?!  

This is my first time playing and I cannot be more proud than to play in honor of my grandma, Miriam Bertan.  I’m pretty sure my grandma, the gambler at heart, would make a bet that the Blondes are going to win!  Don’t worry grandma, my hair will be nicely combed! (She always told me to do this!)