I reluctantly joined the club my sister refers to as the "I Can't Remember Sh*T Club" years ago, and I daresay I'm not alone. Groucho Marx famously opined, "I don't care to belong to any club that would have me as a member." But join this club we do, because like it or not, while we may get wiser as we age, we also tend to forget sh*t.

But as the children of an aging parent with dementia, my sister and I worry about our occasional memory lapses. We first noticed that dad's baseline absent-mindedness (like calling me by our dog's name) had shifted to something more ominous ten years ago. Dad got lost driving home from the local grocery store and forgot to pay the bills -- both behaviors very atypical for him. While my sister and I enjoy laughing at each other's "I can't remember sh*t" moments, there is a more serious underlying issue at play. When we walk into a room and can't remember what we are looking for, or when we see an old friend in the supermarket and are horrified that we can't remember her name, we worry: Are we are losing our memory?

Recently I watched a movie on Netflix and realized half way through that I had seen it before. While disconcerting, it is not the same as forgetting how to drive or getting lost on my way home. And yet, how much control do we have of our destinies -- or our genes at this point?

If you're a current, or shall we say aspiring, member of the "I can't remember sh*t club," there are a few things you should know:

To read more of this post from Jody Gastfriend, LICSW, read her blog at http://www.huffingtonpost.com/jody-gastfriend/memory-loss_b_2166827.html

Even Alzheimer's disease cannot silence the likes of the eternal Rhinestone Cowboy, Glen Campbell.

A recent concert captivated the standing-room-only baby boomer audience who came to enjoy Campbell's sonorous voice as it echoed through the concert hall. During one of his last scheduled concerts before he stops touring permanently, Campbell was a picture of grace and inspiration to long-time fans.

As he belted out such heartfelt standards as "By the Time I Get to Phoenix," "Wichita Lineman" and "Gentle on my Mind," many fans, including a friend who attended, traveled back in time. The lyrics awakened long forgotten memories of people and places, of loves come and gone.

Sadly, the concert my friend attended will be one of Campbell's last. The singer has cancelled the final leg of his "Goodbye Tour," scheduled for Australia and New Zealand, because he isn't up to the long flight. Last year, Campbell was diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease. During the concert, my friend described how Campbell occasionally forgot the words to songs -- even as his fans sang along, even with the help of Teleprompters. He asked for patience as he struggled to find his place, explaining to the audience that he had "health issues."

Not only did he get the audience's patience, he inspired their reverence. The music that connected the crowd to so many emotions also connected them to Campbell in ways neither might have expected.

You see, Alzheimer's disease robs its victims of their capacity to do many things, but it does not take away their ability to appreciate and experience music.

A popular YouTube video, part of a documentary called Alive Inside, shows the story of Henry, a nursing home resident who is unresponsive and completely disengaged from the world. But when he's given an iPod, Henry comes alive. The music transforms him and he becomes communicative, alert and engaged. He is able to describe his spiritual connection to music in general and his love of Cab Calloway in particular. Music puts Henry in touch with a still-living, breathing part of himself.

Dr. Oliver Sacks, the renowned neurologist, described by the New York Times as "the poet laureate of medicine" has studied the therapeutic impact that music has on the brain. I'm not in that league, but I've seen the impact that music has on the brain as well.

To read more of this post by Jody Gastfriend, LICSW, check out her blog at http://www.huffingtonpost.com/jody-gastfriend/glen-campbell_b_1725881.html

As the holidays approach, I want to share a story with you. It’s the story of a friend of mine, Noreen*-a typical sandwich-generation mom and daughter who had many people and priorities to juggle. But it was at Thanksgiving last year when she realized something needed to change.

Noreen left home for college 30 years ago. After graduation, she got married, had two sons, and settled into a life in a small town north of Boston. But her roots, along with her aging parents, were still in Western Massachusetts. Among her three siblings, Noreen lived the closest to her folks and was the most worried. Her brother, Tom lived on the west coast and typically chalked up Mom’s forgetfulness and Dad’s driving mishaps as part of getting older. Pam, the youngest, had her hands full with a rebellious teenager and a recent divorce. She had no room on her plate to worry about Mom and Dad.

So, as Noreen drove –- or crawled -- along the highway last Thanksgiving, she wistfully remembered Thanksgivings past. Mom’s famous pecan chocolate chip pie, Dad’s careful carving of the turkey and the children’s delight at watching the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade in their pajamas seemed like scenes out of a Norman Rockwell painting. Noreen also recalled the fractious squabbles that sometimes erupted amidst the merriment. Those tensions seemed far less weighty than the anxiety she now felt about her parent’s safety and welfare, and her siblings’ apparent dismissal of her fears.

Arriving at her parent’s home, Noreen couldn’t help but stare at the peeling paint and the unkempt lawn. Years ago, she suggested her folks sell the house and find a place to live that was more senior-friendly. Dispelling her concerns, Noreen’s parents quickly dismissed the idea. Noreen, unsupported by her siblings, let the issue drop. Now, she regretted that decision. She opened the front door and got a whiff of something burnt. Turns out it was the turkey. Noreen’s mother was apologetic. She had gotten distracted by the excitement of the holiday. Tom and Pam were busy ordering take out Chinese food and seemed un-phased by the Thanksgiving turkey that had already been tossed. Mom had always been a consummate cook. Now, no one seemed to care that she ruined the holiday meal centerpiece.  Noreen also worried about her Dad who seemed unsteady and frail.  She asked how he was feeling and he replied “under the weather” but hadn’t seen the doctor in months. As the day progressed, Noreen grew increasingly more concerned. She saw a stack of bills on the kitchen counter, some of them dating back months.  She observed Mom forgetting simple things and got frazzled easily. While Noreen did not want to worry excessively or make a scene, things seemed out of sorts and she could no longer pretend otherwise.

Holidays are a time when emotions get stirred up. Like Thanksgiving cranberry sauce and stuffing, our emotions are a mixture of ingredients: Excitement, joy, sadness and stress can all be part of the family recipe. Many adult children, like Noreen, must face a changing reality and confront their own anxiety and grief as their parents lose their strength and independence. These changes are often more prominent around holiday time, particularly for adult children who live at a distance. It is easy to overreact when we see, as Noreen did, bills piling up or a home not properly cared for. At the same time, it is important to differentiate changes in behavior. A newfound tendency to let the house go a bit can be part of normal aging, or it can represent illness and decline. When I later met Noreen for coffee, she told me she worried that the burnt turkey was an ominous sign. I assured her that one burnt turkey does not foreshadow disaster, but a pattern of uncharacteristic behaviors, is more of a concern.

Holidays can be incredibly stressful. In the midst of all the activity and eating, they can also provide an opportunity to observe our parents as they age. So this season, here is what to look for to determine if your worries are justified and whether there are real concerns about your parent’s wellbeing and safety that need to be addressed:

1. Change in eating habits/weight loss
2. Forgetfulness -- out of the ordinary
3. Neglected personal hygiene and cleanliness
4. Decrease in socialization and activity level
5. Significant mood changes
6. Unexplained dents in the car (Learn how to talk to a parent about no longer driving>>)
7. Misuse of prescribed medications
8. Mishandling finances

Like Noreen.. Read more from Jody Gastfriend on Huffington Post

*Noreen is a composite of friends and family caregiver.

I am increasingly enamored of "smart" devices and mobile technology, all of which have changed the world, revealed injustices, simplified chores, and just made my life easier. I love being able to reach my children anywhere, anytime (assuming they answer my calls). I love being able to accomplish real work from a doctor's waiting room or from my living room, and I love the guilty pleasure of looking up old beaus and classmates on social networking sites.

If the whole idea behind mobile technology is to make us more flexible, to make work easier and to make life more efficient, why are people so rabidly impatient these days? The point, as far as I'm concerned, is to relieve us of pressing demands and give us more time, and more ways, to relax and engage other people. Somehow, I'm not sure my fellow digital devotees have gotten the message. Watch the rolling eyes of a friend who's been put on hold. Walk through a bank lobby and check out the toe-tapping people waiting in line. Take a deep breath and notice -- really notice -- the drivers zipping around in traffic, only to land first at the stop light instead of second. We are increasingly hard-wired for instant responses to our needs and easily frustrated when we have to wait for anything. In short, we have become a nation of big, whiny, foot-stamping toddlers.

Granted, I live in a fast-paced city in the northeast where we have the ignominious reputation of having some of the worst drivers in the country. But I have friends around the U.S. who complain to me about escalating rudeness on the roads. Cars don't stop for pedestrians at crosswalks and drivers start honking milliseconds after a light turns green. Even in face-to-face meetings, attention spans short circuit and people openly check their email, Facebook and Twitter accounts when they should be engaged in conversation (or at least listening politely).

As a senior care professional and the daughter of two octogenarians, I think we can all learn more about patience from our aging parents and family members. At some point, you need to slow down and accept that you can't be as fast as Usain Bolt. The more time I spend with my folks, the more I am aware of the importance of patience. My mom walks a lot slower these days and I notice that I have to force myself to keep pace with her and not rush ahead. Sometimes she retells a story and I have to bite my tongue and not point this out. I coach family caregivers to have patience with their aging parents while at the same time, not sacrificing their own health and mental well being.

But patience has its own benefits, if we can just slow down enough to recognize them. When I walk slowly beside my mother, often she'll share an observation or a snippet of memory that I might not have heard if I'd been rushing ahead. When she retells a story, sometimes she adds details and richness that I missed the first time around. When I look in her eyes, I can see the wisdom that she still has to offer me.

As I age, I grow increasingly more appreciative of ways to enjoy the present as time races by.

To read more of this post from Jody Gastfriend, LICSW, read her blog at http://www.huffingtonpost.com/jody-gastfriend/patience_b_1937009.html

Some career advice is easier said than done: do what you love and don't work for assholes.

Sounds easy enough, doesn't it? But figuring out how to make it happen is complicated. I've had jobs I really liked, with bosses I hated, and vice versa. I've also stayed in jobs longer than I should have. Money talks and some jobs simply pay well enough to make you listen.

Of course, the older you get the more you don't want to work for just a paycheck. Now, I'm not suggesting that money isn't important. These days, many people feel lucky to have a job at all. But feeling passionate about work, contributing to the greater good and being appreciated for what you do is a winning combination. It takes work and some risk to make it happen, but it's worth the effort.

I've tried to convey that message to my children and other young adults, because I think it's important to have the end goal in sight as you move through the trial and error of balancing work and the rest of your life.

My mom has been a good role model. She changed careers in her early fifties, from a high school English teacher to a psychotherapist, in an era when most women were not working outside the home. At 83, she still has a thriving professional life. She could retire, but she loves her work more than she loves any notion of leisure.

As a social worker, I took on many roles over the years. I worked in hospitals, home care agencies, schools and businesses. Like many boomers, I juggled work with raising kids and helping to care for my dad who has dementia. There were times when I felt totally overwhelmed and wanted to get off the treadmill. Sometimes I felt like a jack of all trades and a master of none. When I finally decided that I was going to make choices based on what I loved doing (like designing programs that help family caregivers) and what I didn't like doing (spreadsheets and budgets), the choices seemed more clear.

I am fortunate. I work in a growing, dynamic company where I can pursue my passion and have a positive impact on people's lives. I work with great people. But through my line of work I also come in contact with many folks who feel stuck. I hear their stories and see that their spirits are depleted. I work to help them solve problems related to senior relatives who need assistance but I also wish I could help them get out of their job ruts. Yet how do you get un-stuck when you have mouths to feed and a mortgage to pay?

What is the cost of following your bliss at midlife?

Read the rest of this post from Jody Gastfriend, LICSW, at her blog http://www.huffingtonpost.com/jody-gastfriend/work-should-not-be-a-four_b_1959406.html

For many families, coming home for the holidays can be a wake-up call for the changing health of aging parents.

My friend Noreen left home for college 30 years ago, eventually settling down a couple of hours away from her aging parents. Among her three siblings, Noreen lived the closest to her folks and was the most worried. Her brother, Tom lived on the west coast and typically chalked up Mom's forgetfulness and Dad's driving mishaps as part of getting older. Pam, the youngest, had her hands full with a rebellious teenager and a recent divorce. She had no room on her plate to worry about Mom and Dad.

So, as Noreen drove -- or crawled -- along the highway last Thanksgiving, she wistfully remembered Norman Rockwell-like Thanksgivings past with Mom's famous pecan chocolate chip pie, Dad's careful carving of the turkey and the children's delight at watching the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade.

Arriving at her parents' home, Noreen couldn't help but stare at the peeling paint and the unkempt lawn. Years ago, she suggested her folks sell the house and find a place to live that was more senior-friendly. Noreen's parents quickly dismissed the idea as did her siblings. Now, she opened the front door and got a whiff of burned turkey. Noreen's mother was apologetic. She had gotten distracted by the excitement of the holiday. Tom and Pam were busy ordering take out Chinese food and seemed un-phased by the Thanksgiving turkey that had already been tossed. Mom had always been a consummate cook. Now, no one seemed to care that she ruined the holiday meal centerpiece. Noreen also worried about her Dad, who seemed unsteady and frail. She asked how he was feeling and he replied "under the weather," but hadn't seen the doctor in months. As the day progressed, Noreen grew increasingly more concerned. She saw a stack of bills on the kitchen counter, some of them dating back months. She observed Mom forgetting simple things and getting frazzled easily. While Noreen did not want to worry excessively or make a scene, things seemed out of sorts and she could no longer pretend otherwise.

Holidays are a time when emotions get stirred up. Like Thanksgiving cranberry sauce and stuffing, our emotions are a mixture of ingredients: excitement, joy, sadness and stress can all be part of the family recipe. Many adult children, like Noreen, must face a changing reality and confront their own anxiety and grief as their parents lose their strength and independence. These changes are often more prominent around holiday time, particularly for adult children who live at a distance. It is easy to overreact when we see, as Noreen did, bills piling up or a home not properly cared for. At the same time, it is important to differentiate changes in behavior. A new-found tendency to let the house go a bit can be part of normal aging, or it can represent illness and decline. When I later met Noreen for coffee, she told me she worried that the burnt turkey was an ominous sign. I assured her that one burnt turkey does not foreshadow disaster, but a pattern of uncharacteristic behaviors, is more of a concern.

Holidays can be incredibly stressful. In the midst of all the activity and eating, they can also provide an opportunity to observe our parents as they age.

So this season, here is what to look for to determine if your worries are justified and whether there are real concerns about your parent's well-being and safety that need to be addressed:

*Noreen is a composite of friends and family caregivers

To read the rest of LICSW Jody Gastfriend's list, check out her blog at http://www.huffingtonpost.com/jody-gastfriend/family-holidays_b_2003578.html

The other night my husband David and I had dinner with friends who just happen to be Republicans. I asked David politely if we could have an "Obama-free evening." In other words, don't try and convince our friends that Obama is the better candidate."Stay away from politics" I implored.

Unfortunately, all roads lead to the economy and soon I found myself kicking my husband under the table. Ultimately there were two divergent opinions about the presidential race, but I didn't want to taint the evening with unnecessary conflict. I wondered later why it felt so uncomfortable. Why couldn't we agree to disagree? Why was I so worried about alienating our friends because our politics didn't align? Have we lost the ability to be calm and civil in the face of our differences?

According to a recent Pew Research Center study, national campaigns have been negative, but media coverage of campaigns has been even more negative. And where has the coverage been most biting and disrespectful? Social media. The modern town squares of Twitter, Facebook and the like -- where official and unofficial pundits can pontificate with impunity -- has brought some of the ugliest posts and exchanges. And of course, in the land of micro-blogs, any good quip will draw a chorus of hosannas.

I appreciate the ego-rush of attracting an adoring, albeit virtual and largely anonymous, crowd on social media as well as anyone. But preaching to the choir seems to be all anyone wants to do these days. We surround ourselves with like-minded people, both online and off, and insist that everyone else just "doesn't get it." We feed off one another's comments and pat ourselves on the back for being so insightful.

I've seen this intellectual incest in action. I'm a Democrat and so are many of my friends and many of their friends. I'm guilty of enjoying the comfortable glow that comes with engaging a simpatico crowd. However, I value my friends who are Republicans and Independents, who range in age from 30 to 70. Their lives are filled with different experiences, they have different perspectives and they have different needs from their elected officials.

I like these folks, and even if I don't agree with them, I have to at least respect their views. The alternative is to avoid conversing with them about anything of importance. In other words, complain about negative political ads, but never discuss the content. I like to think of myself as open-minded, although I -- as do most people -- have some positions that are non-negotiable. Still, I think we can all go a long way toward raising the bar on public discourse.

At the risk of sounding like a middle-aged mom (which I am) let me offer a few suggestions:

    •Be aware of the language you use. When discussing issues and people,don't brand them as  un-American, cowardly, evil, corrupt, racist or stupid.

    •Practice listening. You may not agree with another person's viewpoint, but you should be willing to hear why he or she holds those views. It's not your job to change anyone's mind.

For more tips from Jody Gastfriend, LICSW, read more of her blog on Huffington Post