Every community has a heartbeat. Here in the Conejo Valley, that heartbeat is made stronger, steadier, and kinder because of the volunteers who show up—day after day, year after year—to make life better for someone else.

I am fortunate to see volunteerism up close through my work at Senior Concerns, but lately I’ve been reflecting on just how many corners of our community are lifted by the hands and hearts of people who give simply because they care.

You see volunteers in the obvious places—delivering meals, coaching youth sports, shelving books at our libraries, comforting animals at shelters, and lending expertise on nonprofit boards. But they also appear in the quiet places

Every so often, I read something that makes me stop and catch my breath.

Recently, it was an article in The Chronicle of Philanthropy listing America’s 100 favorite charities. On the surface, it was a remarkable summary of generosity — billions of dollars given by caring people across the country. But as I scanned the list, my heart sank.

Only two of those 100 charities focus on older adults: the Alzheimer’s Association and the Michael J. Fox Foundation for Parkinson’s research.

That is it. Two.

My friend recently had dinner with a long-time neighbor who has been diagnosed with mild cognitive impairment.

She told me, “He carried on a good conversation all through dinner. He seemed fine to me.”

She was questioning her neighbor’s diagnosis, since in my friend’s mind, her neighbor appeared normal.

My friend’s reaction is very common and somewhat understandable.

Mild cognitive impairment (MCI) is when changes to the memory or thinking go beyond normal aging but are not severe enough to be called dementia. It’s often an early warning sign that something in the brain is shifting.

A few weeks ago, I received the thick Medicare & You government handbook that is mailed to every Medicare household each fall before open enrollment (Oct. 15–Dec. 7).

Seeing it immediately made me feel anxious and overwhelmed.

The handbook is a comprehensive guide to Medicare and covers many topics like the basics of coverage, changes for the upcoming year, plan comparison tools, and prescription drug coverage. And while it is meant to be the go-to reference for beneficiaries, many people find it overwhelming because of the amount of detail.

As I was struggling at work this week to read some fine print, I realized I needed the help of my twenty-something workmate, Max. It took him seconds to read what I could not.

I know my eyesight is weakening, but honestly, I have had a good run; being able to accommodate my vision changes throughout the years.

In third grade I got my first pair of glasses, a result of the teacher telling my mother I was squinting at the bulletin board. They were cat glasses, a popular style at the time, but I was still embarrassed and took my glasses off as I passed by the fourth and fifth grade boys as we walked the halls.

As I grew up, glasses were a mainstay. I needed them to read the blackboard, to see street signs when I began driving, and to pick out my friends from a crowd at the football game.

Over lunch the other day, a dear friend was talking about the fact that she has been caring for her mother since her dementia diagnosis 14 years ago. She shared key points in her journey, like when she moved her mother into residential care, and how now, many years later, her mother no longer recognizes her.

In her role, she does extensive public education on care for seniors. She told me that, in talking with another speaker she’ll be joining on a panel, she came to a remarkable realization. She was sharing with him some details of her mother’s journey and the grief she is feeling as she continues to watch her mother slowly die.

He reflected back to her that it must be difficult witnessing her mother’s decline and asked her what she was doing to support herself.

I have just returned from time in New Hampshire caring for my mom.

In overwhelming pain, my mother became violently ill. My sister called 911, and Mom was transported to the hospital. 

The diagnoses came fast and furious - gout in her affected hand, aspiration pneumonia, and orthostatic hypotension, which is a sudden drop in blood pressure leading to dizziness and fainting.

In one week’s time, she moved to a skilled nursing facility to regain strength and continue to recover. After four days there, she achieved a level of recovery and stability, where she no longer required specialized care and was discharged.

The Senior Concerns Director of Nutrition, who leads the Meals On Wheels program, recently asked if I would write a column about why older adults should designate an emergency contact.

She relayed that more Meals On Wheels clients than we would like do not identify an emergency contact in their profile. This is problematic if the volunteer driver notices a situation of concern and there is no one to call.

She also recounted the situation of a new church member who passed out at while at church. Others in attendance knew little about this new member. When the ambulance arrived, the first responders were unable to find an emergency contact listed in her belongings.

Just when I begin to wonder what to write about next, life offers up a moment -a lesson- and I am reminded that these everyday experiences often hold meaning worth sharing.

Last week, my mom, who turned 91 on July 26^th, woke up and the top of her right hand was swollen and painful. Her wrist hurt and there were periodic shooting pains running up her arm.

She applied some Voltaren® gel, and it subsided a bit. But as the next two days unfolded, her hand became more swollen, and the pain increased.

Being an intrepid New Englander, my mom placed a call to her GP and explained enough to get an appointment that day.

I have been on the phone with my sister for the last few days. She has some big decisions to make about her Medicare coverage, and it can be a confusing process.

My sister turns 65 in October.  Because she is currently receiving Social Security benefits, she will automatically be enrolled in Medicare Part A and Part B on the first day of her birthday month (October 1st) or the prior month if her birthday falls on the 1st. 

My sister’s concern is her automatic enrollment in Medicare Part B.

Today, she has COBRA medical coverage from her husband’s previous employer. The employer stated that this coverage will remain in effect until January 6, 2026, if she pays her premiums. However, that is somewhat deceiving for two reasons. COBRA coverage is not considered a viable reason to opt out of Part B and generally COBRA benefits end once Medicare begins.