MAKING A NEW MEMORY
Seventeen again
There was a sense of presence in Betty Mohr’s eyes.
She batted them flirtatiously at the photographer and smiled, as if she had done this many times before.
Maybe she remembered what it felt like to be in front of the camera. It was hard to tell.
Alzheimer’s had robbed much of Mohr’s memory, but there was something familiar as she slipped on a trench coat, similar to one she wore at age 17 for a Boston Store advertisement. The ad ran in Seventeen magazine in 1945. It was her 15 minutes of fame.
Through the years, she would share the story of her fashion shoot and the tattered clipping from the magazine with her seven children, 20 grandchildren and 21 great-grandchildren.
Now at age 88, Mohr was in the spotlight again, thanks to the staff of Silverado Kingwood Memory Care.
They had gone to great lengths to reenact Mohr’s glamour-shot moment.
They hired a photographer and video crew, brought in a makeup artist and even found a version of the Boston Store paratrooper trench coat online. It was only a few dollars more than the $12.98 it retailed for in 1945.
Recreating a special memory like Mohr’s is a way to celebrate a life when the memory fades, said Sabrina Pegross, Silverado administrator and dementiacare specialist.
“These are people who have lived such rich and wonderful lives. Now, to suffer with a memory impairment, dignity is a
big deal for them. So we want to celebrate all of the good things that have happened in their lives, and we want to create those memories continuously today,” she said.
According to the Alzheimer’s Association, more than 5 million Americans are living with the disease, and two-thirds of those are women.
While connecting residents to their past is a goal, Pegross said it’s also about creating joy in the moment.
“Even if they’ve lost their memory, they can still experience joy. She might not remember the event, but she can remember the feeling and the sense of value.”
Silverado residents have varying degrees of memory impairment. Many of them have moments of clarity, though fleeting.
Mohr knew this was a big deal, as her daughter, Lynn Lucas, and Pegross helped her into a pair of black rain boots. Her left foot was the hardest to get in, but Mohr continued to smile as she pushed as much as she could when prompted.
She spoke only with her eyes that widen with childlike excitement.
“Mom loves the camera,” Lucas said. “It’s really neat to see her like this. It was always a point of pride being in Seventeen magazine.”
Mohr was a stay-at-home mother most of her life and later worked in administration at the Houston Police Department. She and her husband, Tom Mohr, who died in January, lived in Wisconsin and Arkansas before settling in Kingwood. He worked as a plant manager in operations for much of his career. She was active in women’s clubs and community events, and even recreated her Seventeen ad for several fashion shows.
Lucas said she loved dressing up, fixing her hair and putting on her earrings because “it made her feel good.” The magazine ad reenactment was a surprise for Lucas, who was only told that her mother was being photographed for a company newsletter.
Mohr is in the facility’s hospice care for breast cancer; she was diagnosed in 2004. But she’s flourished since becoming a resident at the center earlier this year. “It helps having her in the appropriate environment,” Lucas said. “When she was home she wasn’t able to be herself. Here she’s come back to life again. I’ve seen parts of my mom I hadn’t seen in a long time.”
Watching her mother’s memory fade, though, has been hard. Patience has been the key.
“You have to understand this is the disease, and you just have to let them have as much joy in the moment as they can. The blessing is that she lives in the moment. There are no grudges, no regrets.”
In front of the camera, Mohr balanced herself with a cane in one hand, an umbrella — like the one from ad — in the other. She posed and posed. “Every time her face lights up is a moment of joy. It’s wonderful to see. Right, mom, every day is a new day?” said Lucas, gently holding her mother’s hand.
Mohr smiled and batted her eyes.
“It helps having her in the appropriate environment. When she was home she wasn’t able to be herself. Here she’s come back to life again. I’ve seen parts of my mom I hadn’t seen in a long time.”
Lynn Lucas, daughter of Betty Mohr