Tracy Cram Perkins’s sixteen-plus-years-experience care giving for two parents with dementia and an uncle and aunt with mild to moderate cognitive impairment provided the nucleus of her book, Dementia Home Care, How to Prepare Before, During, and After.

Her book grew from failures. From sending her father to the E.R. with hypothermia the first evening he lived with her—and the paramedic telling her they expected to make many return visits, to coping with the stresses of 24/7 care. She made mistakes and found work arounds and resources for each one—discovering joy and humor in the small moments.

Dementia care is difficult. It requires patience, adaptability, and a strong back. From learning how to transfer someone who doesn’t want to bathe in and out of a tub to dealing with verbal abuse caused by delusions and paranoia.

Caring for her family, she learned firsthand the depression and anxiety and guilt which comes with dementia care. She understands each person’s dementia journey follows a different path of decline. Laughter is an important part of the equation. In light of this, she believes people need to release their emotions, tension, and stress through self-care. Or they will run out of life before their loved one.

According to Tracy, the Surgeon General’s warning for laughter could read, “Warning, laughter produces chemicals known to the State of California to be cathartic and to make you feel better. Other states of mind may follow.”

Not to mention she’s a serious Halloween fanatic who creates humorous tombstones like “Viagra, the Fifth Hour” for her display. Even so, despite what her neighbors think, the only bodies in her graveyard at Halloween are the moles who insist her front yard is a mole recycling center. Try as she might she can’t convince them to go into the light.

On the other hand, she lives on the edge of a forest with her vacuum cleaner, Henri Deux. Together they bust the pesky little fir needles who attempt total domination of her almost clean floors.

Equally important, she wants to lead as many people as possible in singing the wrong words to Bear in Tennis Shoes . . . because it’s naughty but nice. Her personal record stands at 42—in a bus stranded north of the arctic circle.

Tracy and her husband reside on Washington State’s Olympic Peninsula. They share a home with assorted fish and two cats who demand their obedience between naps.

In addition, she’s visited Forks but hasn’t met any vampires . . . yet.