ALana, Meet Alice

Alana, Meet Alice

My friend Alana has danced countless hours in front of the studio mirror. And then one day while no one was looking, something amazing happened. She ventured through the looking glass to meet Alice: A tale of early-onset dementia.

“I’m not strange, weird, off, nor crazy, my reality is just different from yours.” Lewis Carroll

Alana Beidelman and I have a history that revolves around dance. I own a dance studio, and she has danced-out-loud — practically since birth.

In 1993 we joined forces.

My first interaction with this luminous redhead was in my jazz dance class. Me, teacher. She, student.. By observing, it took mere seconds to see that she was a pro. In fact, I later learned that Alana was actress Shelly Long’s body-double in the film “Outrageous Fortune” where the actress launches into a grand jete across an expansive canyon. Of course we don’t see Alana’s face, but the film captures her perfect in-air splits. And in tight blue jeans!

“Well, some go this way, and some go that way. But as for me, myself, personally, I prefer the short-cut.” LC

Back at Studio A Dance, it wasn’t long before Alana was invited to be a part of our studio’s company “Cumulus.” Additionally, within the time it takes to travel across the oak floor via pas de bourrie, she became a ballet and tap instructor at the studio. And she and I great friends, and decades-long dance partners. We performed to songs like Natalie Cole’s “L-O-V-E ,” Frank Sinatra’s “The Way You Look Tonight” and the theme to “Peter Gunn” to name a few. We also hit the stage at Cerritos college, where she was on the dance faculty. One piece that stands out in my mind was to Ella Fitzgerald’s version of “Stone Cold Dead In The Market.” This silly, Jamacian-inspired song relays the story of a woman so fed up with her husband’s abuse that she kills him in the public market with a frying pan and rolling pin. And yes, we acted this out in a dance romp. So much fun!

Stone Cold Dead In The Market

Although her personality is soft-spoken and unassuming, on stage she has no problem slipping into queen of camp. Meanwhile, away from the studio Alana’s fingers were on the pulse of the LA’s cultural hub. Alana was executive assistant to Gordon Davidson, the founding artistic director of Los Angeles’ Center Theatre Group, as well as their Board Liaison. To my delight, I was invited by Alana as her guest to many opening night galas. The edible spreads were often over the top, but in those early days, what stands out in my mind more are her salads served at our fledgling dance company “galas,” and at her home “ballet barbeques.”

Mind you, Alana is no celebrity chef, but she does toss up a mean garden salad. Although this ballerina’s specialty of greens may be all the rave, what sates the appetite more is the purity and sweetness that emanates from her soul. I’ve known this curly-topped talent for more than 32 years, and not only do we share our love for dance, we share the same gardener. His name is Jose. This gentle-man has also worked for Val, Alana’s sister. At this point one may surmise that Jose has a relation to Alana’s salad, but no, her crisp leaves are sourced from the local market’s produce section.

“Only a few find the way, some don’t recognize it when they do — some… don’t ever want to.” LC

Big sis Val relays the story of how one day in early 2024, Jose runs into Alana at home, finding her underweight, weak and aimlessly wandering. He instantly assessed, and determined she was quite confused and in need of nourishment. This caring soul rode down the hill to the “baby” Target and bought her some food. Soon thereafter, communication of Alana’s state opened up between Josè and Val.

“Not all who wander are lost.” LC

Long story short: following many medical evaluations (an unimaginable journey led by Valerie) it is determined Alana has early onset of dementia. Today I ask: How could my friend, this sparkling radiant ruby, be in this altered state? By the time I find out — many months later — I think back to our last interaction. She rang me in early November 2023 asking for a mechanic recommendation to replace her starter. I remember she seemed a little panicked, maybe even a little off, but otherwise clear. I called her a few days later and left a message to see if she had any success, but no response. Maybe I should have paid more attention because this was not like her. I tried a few more times but simply let it go.

I did not trust my instincts.

“When you’ve understood this scripture, throw it away. If you can’t understand this scripture, throw it away. I insist on your freedom.” LC

Fast forward some months to Regent Oak Knoll, a fancy-name for a live-in memory care facility in Pasadena. A place where stream-of-consciousness reigns, and where I’m convinced every employee has been hired due to their enthusiasm and innate glowing spirit — like that of high school team cheerleaders.

“Birds of a feather flock together.” LC

The first visit to see Alana post-diagnosis is with my friend Jeanine. The visit is difficult. (I have not seen Alana in nearly a year) The usual sure-footed, triple-turning ballerina is now unrecognizable and her prima stature diminished. Her appearance? Wilted, hunched over. Added to that, her now uncharacteristic tortoise-paced gait resembles that of a person inflicted with polio. But you know what? She is smiling.

”Well! I’ve often seen a cat without a grin,” thought Alice; “but a grin without a cat! It’s the most curious thing I ever saw in all my life!” LC

I’m in too much shock to express any emotion. I’m in a state where I feel like balling my eyes out, but no outward proof is on display. (I’m numb) Instead, “cheerful” Bill smiles and makes small talk while below the surface he is in disbelief, and will cry later that day, in his own time.

“Alice replied, rather shyly, “I — I hardly know, Sir, just at present — at least I know who I was when I got up this morning, but I think I must have been changed several times since then.” LC

Yet on that very day I reflect on how important our friendship is, and I shall never look back to this day of profound sadness. Instead, I think about the many times I’ve heard Alana recite in her squeaky Shirley Temple voice “Turn that frown upside down,” index finger pointed to her dimple.

“If you’ll believe in me, I’ll believe in you. Is that a bargain?” LC

Each subsequent visit gives me not only a rush of joy, but a gift to behold of being in the moment. I am lifted from all the minutia of my daily life and transported to a place of wholeness.

I thank Alana for this gift. Every visit, I thank her for this gift.

Here’s what I realize early on. Jump into Alana’s dream and enjoy the ride. Conversations may not make sense, but neither do most dreams. Adventure was never lost on Alice In Wonderland.

Sometimes after diving down the rabbit hole, I take on the role of navigator, guiding this spaceship of wonder. For example, one day while sitting in the garden courtyard, Alana — in a state of panic — tells me she sees a person on a nearby balcony dangerously close to the edge. I look up to see a bushy, yet erect potted plant. I calm the tenseness. That’s funny,” I reply, “I thought the same thing, then I blinked a couple times and realized it’s just a plant. Try blinking” I suggest. Following a hard blink, she says “I could have sworn…” “Yeah, me too.”

“You may have noticed, I’m not all there myself.” LC

On another “visit,” this time with my friend Joey, I proclaim in my best game-show host tone “ it’s time to play name that sitcom!” I immediately sing out “da-da, dut-dut-da-dut-dut; name the sitcom!” I demand. I see the twinkle in Alana’s eye as she promptly replies, while her finest Cheshire grin is on display “I Dream of Jeannie” At that moment, I experience that feeling of sliding safely into home base — in slow motion — and realize that the non-dementia part of her brain has been tapped, and is — for this moment — alive and well. The game continues and will resurface in several future visits with replies for the most part being spot-on.

When stepping through the portal of Oak Knoll, to make this work, I realize my visit must be fully immersive, nothing is scheduled for the rest of my day, if I can make it happen. I don’t want time constraints to hinder the visit’s magic. First the journey takes the form of a kids’ game: “Alana, Alana, come out come out where you are”. I greet the receptionist and ask if they know where Alana is. (She could be one of many places: the Daisy room/ arts and crafts , the living room/ trivia/ OT/ karoke, the dining room, the cafe, or sitting outside in the garden) On my way to Alana, I pass resident Ginny, to whom I give a hello, she only responds with a suspicious nod. Then there’s Lillian from Belgium. When I say hello to her, she simply speaks in word salad, and now it’s my turn to nod, but in solidarity.

“No, no! The adventures first, explanations take such a dreadful time. LC

I find Alana in the living Room where there’s ballroom dancing competition on the big screen. I greet Alana “hi!” She seems surprised (she always does) and offers a cheerful hello then dives intently back to a pad and paper, and the ballroom competition. I figure she’s judging the competition, but I’m wrong. Instead, she’s writing down names of the songs that she is hearing.

I decide that today the visit requires less verbal interaction, and just hanging out and observing my good friend. She is so rapt with the music and the television that I simply just sit next to her and revel in her focus. I notice that she looks really good: she has gained weight so her face has filled out. I ask if we can take a selfie together. “Sure” she replies with a big beamer.

“When I used to read fairy tales, I fancied that kind of thing never happened, and now here I am in the middle of one!” LC

Another time I bring my dog Mimi, a shihtzu who loves living the lap of luxury — literally. Mimi and I escort Alana outdoors to where Alana settles in the first chair in sight. I ask her to scoot out of the sun so her fair-skinned skin won’t burn. I hand her Mimi.

On this particular afternoon, I learn about all of Alana’s dogs throughout her lifetime. Kees, Shadow, and McCree, to name just a few.

During all visits, there are tangents. One in particular is the loss of her purse, or was it stolen? She wonders. Others include she missed a rehearsal, or her boss is mad at her because she lied. “I never lie, and Gordon should know that”

“Why, sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.” LC

I always have responses “I’m sure your purse is at reception, rehearsal was rescheduled, and you are definitely reading into Gordon’s accusation. He probably meant …”

“Go Ask Alice, I think she’ll know” Jefferson Airplane

The outing: One day I pick up Alana for her birthday lunch at my house. When I arrived at Oak Knoll, Val was helping Alana get ready for the big event. She dressed Alana in a new sparkly sweater, and American Beauty Rose-colored lipstick. I am “wowed,” by her appearance. Guests included close friends and past ballet students, celebrating our dear friend. Although she was joyfully holding court, it was our gourmet black coffee that gave her the biggest thrill .. …. and buzz. “More please”

“Take some more tea,” the March Hare said to Alice, very earnestly.
“I’ve had nothing yet,” Alice replied in an offended tone, “so I can’t take more.” “You mean you can’t take less,” said the Hatter: “it’s very easy to take more than nothing.” “Nobody asked your opinion,” said Alice.” LC

About a month ago, when I pulled in my garage, I noticed Josè taking a break from trimming the Bougainvillea. He approached me asking how Alana was doing. I told him that she’s doing just fine. His response did not take me by surprise, but did give me a warm feeling. He asked me if I wouldn’t mind giving him the address of where she was now living, and would it be okay if he could stop in and visit. As for me? I look forward to the many memories in store.

“How can one look forward to a memory when one has not had one yet? On the other hand,without looking forward to a memory, a memory cannot be created, can it?” William Brown

“In a Wonderland they lie, Dreaming as the days go by, Dreaming as the summers die: Ever drifting down the stream- Lingering in the golden gleam- Life, what is it but a dream?” Lewis Carrol

FRAME OF MIND

TAPPING INTO DEMENTIA

Fifteen months ago—due to Jeanine’s sleuthing-- we finally had answers as to what happened to Alana. We learned that due to early onset dementia, our good friend now resides at Regent Oak Knoll Memory Care. Since then, I have visited Alana dozens of times, and many tell me how great it is that I do this for Alana, but honestly, I’ve come to realize I do this for me. One hundred percent. You’ll understand why by reading on:

After I make the left onto Oak Knoll Dr, my eye catches the massive fountain sparkling in the front garden, and I experience a sense of coming home.  I park my car and sit in quiet calm for a couple minutes. Frame of mind.

Next, I walk around the trickling water to the entrance. I speak to the door. “Hi!  it’s Bill. I’m here to see Alana.”   Magically, the door unlocks, and the familiar receptionist is already scoping a couple dozen postcard-sized video screens to find where Alana is located. Often it’s the dining room because I prefer to come at lunchtime. Alana’s table seats four, three plus me.   There’s something about sitting across from a friend that makes the visit intimate. In case you are wondering, my properly-mannered friend never talks with food in her mouth. Though I can’t say the same for tablemate Ginny. (cringe)

I approach. “Hello!”  “Well, hello!” is Alana’s pat response, always with a smile attached.

Once I’m seated, I immediately get the conversation started. On this day, here’s how I engage my captive audience: “Can any of you think of any car models named after animals?”  The lady to my right replies that she knew of some.  Alana nods. But only Alana smiles and participates.  I give hints like “a wild animal with whiskers, a type of bird, a small pony,” etc. Alana is fully “game on.” The others at the table seem rather rapt, but no offerings.  I find out that Alana’s mother Marion drove a brown cougar, and as a teenager Alana once drove a yellow Pinto, a hand-me-down from her older sister Val. I cringe and jest, “A yellow Pinto with a redhead behind the wheel sounds like visual overload.”   Alana disregards me, and smirks and says, “I know one named after a monster.” I cannot come up with anything that fits the description, so I say “Godzilla” knowing full well that is not a model of any car. She responds, “my friend Mickie drove an orange one, and the ugliest car ever made, the Gremlin!” She’s so right. I wonder to myself if the Gremlin’s designer is also responsible the Tesla truck. But full disclosure: I have no solid proof that yellow Pintos and Orange Gremlins ever existed, but if Alana says so, so be it.

Talking about the past comes easy for Alana, compared to the current world in which she dwells. She never knows which the day of the week is today, sees things that are not there, and she conjures up experiences that did not happen. When we go there, I listen and ask for clarification, and then I craftily change the subject.

Another fun activity—which Oak Knoll offers-- is trivia games, often held in the living room. But one day the internet is down, so there’s no youtube trivia channel on the big screen.  A Knoll team member explains the situation, and proclaims, “Instead, we sing!”  At that, he sits at the grand piano explaining that he only knows three chords, C - F and G.  “BUT (a long pause) I can play many songs with only three chords.”  At that, he expertly launches into a sway-worthy 3/4 rhythm, and starts singing “Que Sera, Sera.”  The room is in motion, and we all join in. I am belting with mediocre harmony (and I get a few strange looks), and to no surprise, Alana’s interpretation is a soft whisper. At the end of the song, I give our accompanist a hardy applause.  His reply to me? “Thank you, and today you get an extra scoop of ice cream.”  Giggles all around. As you may surmise by now, I selfishly prefer to visit Alana on my own, because honestly, I might not have sung if another visitor was with me. However, there are exceptions, and I welcome companions.

My visits always include laughter, unexpected situations, and feelings of warmth, love and encouragement. Although I have come to grasp that Alana will not improve, I do know currently her temperament is the same as always -- sweet, friendly and giving. I realize that this may change, so I’m getting in while the getting is good, for now.  

During this chapter of unchartered territory, I received help in the form of a book. My friend, Tiffany Chow, MD a (ballet dancing) behavioral neurologist-- who often took Alana’s class – sent me “The Memory Clinic, Stories of Hope and Healing for Alzheimer’s Patients and their Families.”  Her first-hand experience – not only with her own family member, but with countless patients and their families—provides me insight, and a cache of cleverness paired with good information.  I cannot recommend it enough. Tiffany not only shares detailed case histories but includes how each situation makes her feel. Sometimes there’s tears, other times enlightenment. Many anecdotal stories clue the reader into wise ways of interacting with family members who have dementia.   I found her book sad, heartwarming, funny and very educational. In one passage Tiffany talks about how one can offset dementia by plumping up our hippocampi (yes, there are two, she explains) with mind expansion exercises and techniques.   Count me in.

Visiting Alana 4th of July weekend 2025

Following dance class I make a left onto W Ave 42 by the baby Target and see ICE agents taking a sidewalk chef into custody. Still at the grill is a woman whom I presume is his wife. She is frozen in fear. The high from dance class drains from my entire being.  Minutes later I am home. I pop on my facebook account.  My friend Libby posted that today she witnessed ICE agents at Forest Lawn Cemetery taking a female flower vendor into custody. To add insult to injury, Libby notices one of the agents grabs two bunches of flowers for himself.

Utterly upset, I jump into a safety net of my upcoming day’s highlight.  My sights are now set on visiting Alana. Today is special because Anne, her friend from Florida, is visiting and asked that meet her at Oak Knoll.  Gladly. These childhood friends have not seen each other in ten years.  More pieces of the patchwork of Alana’s early life will reveal new colors and patterns. Exciting!  

I arrive early and see Alana in the craft room.  She and three others are drawing in a coloring book’s 4th of July scenario. I see my friend filling in a giant number 4 in electric yellow. As I approach, she lifts her head. “Well, hello.” She smiles. Within seconds, I see Anne and her husband across the courtyard and wave them over.

Alana is happily surprised and Anne is beaming.

I suggest we go outdoors into the garden where there’s a picnic table. Once seated Anne presents an envelope with photos! With each photo comes a tale. I’m impressed that Alana remembers names of some people that Anne couldn’t recall. As for now, Alana’s long-term memory is intact; I love going there with her. A synopsis of her shenanigans with Anne: Alana’s car dangerously skids on ice near a cliff in Crestline and Alana’s father Cliff (yes, a double cliff day) talks them down; the girls tear up turf at a driving range and due of that, their employee friend is fired; Alana runs out of gas on the 5 freeway in Central California, in the middle of nowhere. 

As the storytelling goes on, resident Lillian approaches the table and mumbles and giggles as she throws flower petals onto the table. She then picks up the photos, and starts shuffling.  Uncertain of her next move, I tell Lillian the photos need stacking, then take them from her hand and place them on the table out of reach.  “There” I proclaim. Alana looks at Lillian and smiles. Alana is sweet to everyone. Always has been.

As the visit ends with Anne, I suggest to Alana that we go inside.  We occupy two easy chairs, and I initiate talk of more memories which lead to a tangent, and tons of laughs. I find out about “the Mike Feeney incident” during high school times. Feeney was a redhead like Alana, so they were sometimes pegged as brother and sister. One day, he squirted mustard –intentionally, we think--on Alana’s new low-rise pink corduroys. Alana and her friend Mickie conjure up a retaliation scheme, which results in pouring hot sauce inside Feeney’s Fiat. I point out the alliteration and Alana and I launch.    For the next 20 minutes or so “f” words are the main concern of our conversation. The result reads like this: “Alana’s fiery redhead friend Feeney drove a fabulous fiat on a flat freeway on a Friday.” We are beyond amused at our creation. So much time as lapsed that we missed dinner call, so I escort Alana to the dining room. Awaiting is her seat with a blue linen napkin popping fan-fold style out of a glass goblet. I decide to sit for a few minutes until her meal is served. Proudly, I read our creation to tablemates Ginny and Rita. Rita laughs, as Ginny pays no never mind, but instead she’s having a conversation with her napkin. I notice the table next to us eavesdropping, so I read the Feeney fiasco to them. Also amused. “C’mon Alana, we are on a roll, any other F words?”  “Fondue!”  She blurts out. And I say “fiesta” Our final composition reads like this “Alana’s fiery redhead friend Feeney drove a fabulous fiat on a flat freeway on a Friday to a fine fiesta with fair food including far out fondue”

At that point, dinner is served, shepherd’s pie.  The smell is more than I can handle. “Alana, I’m going to take off so you can focus on your meal. Enjoy!”  As I exit, my mind goes back to the lady’s expression at the sidewalk grill. Back to reality. I escaped twice today.