Safe Haven at Lions Gate 'the right place for Rosa' Loving son seeks best care for his mother By HARRIET KESSLER Voice staff Dominic Bocco is different, according to Renee Davidow, Lions Gate director of community relations. "Most people who look at Safe Haven (the Lions Gate Alzheimer's memory care residence) are in denial. Not Dominic. He knew. He made it easy." Dominic Bocco in his mother's room at Safe Haven. The room is furnished with Rosa Marie Bocco's favorite things, including a Christmas tree. Bocco moved his mother, Rosa Marie, into the secured assisted living section of the Voorhees continuing care retirement community (CCRC) in November 2007. The young Cherry Hill attorney was glad to have placed her and is pleased with her care. "We had 12 years to get used to it, Bocco said, explaining why separation and guilt are not the issues for him and his three siblings that they are for many others. She was formally diagnosed 12 years ago, eight years after his father died, when she was only 57- just 11 years older than he is now. He, his brother and two sisters (all now in their mid to late 40s) cared for her throughout the years before her placement, adapting their lives as her needs changed. Seeing her through multiple cognitive tests, MRIs of the brain; respite care, night nurses, assorted medications- with ongoing attempts to help her cope with her progressive, degenerative illness- gave the family profound insight into the dynamics of Alzheimer's, according to Bocco. "I could write a book on this," he says, resigned and shaking his head. • • • "I call her Rosa," says Bocco. "Because she answers to that, not to mother." Today, she does not answer at all. It is not a good day for Rosa. While the other Safe Haven residents seated around the wooden table are eager to start their crafts project- making aprons- 69-yearold Bocco, seems oblivious to her surroundings. Her Alzheimer's, manifesting itself as a constant tremor, seems so in control that the slight woman does not notice Activities Assistant Angela Lorenzo preparing the morning's project, or see that her son has entered the room. "That's how it is, sometimes," Dominic Bocco says, gesturing with his hands. "Even at her best, she doesn't know me. But usually she responds. Usually she's comfortable with me. They're all comfortable with me- all the other residents … Her new family, I call them, because that's how it is." The corporate and personal injury attorney has curtailed his trips to his Orlando office in order to visit his mother almost daily. "She was ill before my father died, and I promised him I'd take care of her," he explains. Davidow appreciates his visits. "He's like a wonderful volunteer, who helps both the residents and their families" she says. For his part, Bocco is glad to have found Safe Haven. "We really shopped," he said. "We looked for two years. This place wasn't open when we started." He visited just as it was opening at the suggestion of a neighbor, Judge Barry Weinberg, and knew almost instantly that it should be Rosa's new home. • • • What does he like about it. "Everything," Bocco says. Even when Safe Haven fills to capacity (it can accommodate 30 men and women), it will be small enough for personal care and a family atmosphere. Each resident has a private room furnished with their favorite things- his mom's room has a Christmas tree. The common areas are spacious, airy, colorful- all designed to seem familiar and homey, to help the residents connect with their past- the days when they were mothers, artists, musicians, teachers and decorators. Nothing is institutional, according to Bocco. The living room looks like a living room. The dining room is elegant and the meals (the residents choose from a daily menu) are the same served to the CCRC diners in its independent living section. "The staff has been carefully selected," said Bocco, giving credit to Michelle Heckendorn, RN, who heads Safe Haven. "They treat the residents with the dignity they deserve and they accept them the way they are. … They go into their world and have compassion for what they're going through." • • • Visiting regularly since his mother moved in, Bocco participates in the life she now shares with her new family, helping with crafts, joining her in the swimming pool, celebrating Shabbat and Chanukah, watching videos (many of which he's donated). "It really doesn't matter that we're Catholic," he says. "There's acceptance all the way around." Rosa has a rich life and enjoys that life, according to her son. Activity Coordinator Angela Lorenzo provides a full schedule of daily activities, and she has her hair and nails done weekly. "Entertainers come and the family takes her out. She eats well. And most of all, she's safe." Reconciled to the need to let go well before placing Rosa in Safe Haven, he now helps others struggling to let go or suffering guilt at the thought of relinquishing care of a loved relative to professionals. He tells them not to wait for a crisis. He says, "Let the guilt go. You're killing yourself not helping your loved one. Here, he or she is safe, and there's a better quality of life for you both." • • • This is how it was, according to Bocco: The memory loss started more than 12 years ago. His mother forgot meetings and began repeating herself. Little by little her problems became more complex. "She was so young, Alzheimer's never occurred to us." But then it was formally diagnosed, and the family knew that they had to take charge if she and they were to survive. "The four of us had a few skirmishes along the way," said Bocco. "The worst was probably over whether or not we should make her give up her car. But that phase ended five years ago. Since then, we've been in synch. "We shared the responsibility for her, with respite care, night nurses and medication that retards the disease letting us care for Rosa in our homes for a time." But an incident two years ago made for a decisive moment. Rosa was living in his sister's Moorestown home when there was a smoke fire in the kitchen. When the smoke alarm sounded, she was still in bed. "The question was who stays behind- your children or your mother?", Bocco said, without flinching. "There was no fire. Only smoke. If there had been a fire, she would have been dead. … Need I say more?" • • • This is how it will be, according to Bocco: Alzheimer's is progressive and degenerative. Rosa does not have long to live. "The more optimistic of us estimate maybe five years," he says. "I think closer to two." Because Lions Gate is a CCRC there will be no relocation necessary for end of life care. "She can move from Safe Haven, to skilled nursing, to rehab, to hospice- whatever she needs," Bocco said. He views Lions Gate the way he views himself- as loving and caring, but unsentimental and reality oriented. Renee Davidow agrees and admires Bocco's attitude. "It's a privilege to know him," she says. "If I'm ever in Rosa's situation, I hope my son can be like him." .