Quality of Life
Forgotten children
I don’t know about you, but I’ve left something in my car and later regretted doing so. One item in particular that I REALLY regretted leaving in the trunk of my car was a can of frozen orange juice. I guess I didn’t forget it, it slipped out of my shopping bag and after awhile, once it had melted, it turned bad…real bad and stunk up my car. Fortunately the smell alerted me to the neglected juice can so I could retrieve it and thoroughly clean out my trunk to eliminate the stench of rotted, putrid, orange juice.
Okay, true confession time. Let me be totally honest with you, there have been other items I’ve left in my car, the fact that they existed having completely slipped my mind:
- Cell phone
- Water bottle
- Briefcase
- Umbrella
- Jacket
- Bag of snacks
- iPod
So yes, I can readily be accused of forgetting something in my car that should have been brought into the house.
But I never left my child in my car.
I never forgot I had a daughter and then “slap myself on the forehead” ran out to retrieve her to bring her inside the house.
What’s going on these days that some parents now go about their day, fully oblivious to the fact that earlier in the day they had placed a child in his or her carseat in the heat of the day, and that if the child isn’t in the house when you enter the house, there must be some place where he or she may be located?
Or when you go to work, having placed a child in the carseat earlier in the day, you somehow work your shift and then return to your car, drive home, and then remember you and your spouse gave birth to this little bundle of dehydrated flesh some x-years ago?
Are we so distracted that a living, human being slips our minds?
How can one explain this extraordinary occurrence of parents forgetting their children in their vehicles?
Hell, I didn’t even leave my child unattended in my vehicle just because my store errand would only be 5 minutes! No, too many things could have happened during that five minutes and I wasn’t about to chance any of those from occurring to the little girl I carried in the warmth and protection of my womb. I would rather be inconvenienced having to unstrap her from the carseat – even if she had fallen asleep and desperately needed some Zzzz time – and carry a crying child into the store for my five minute errand than risk anything happening to my most cherished possession.
The fact that car manufacturers are now developing alarm systems in vehicles to alert a parent to the existence of their flesh and blood seems rather alarming in itself…doesn’t it?
Or is it just me who thinks so?
Ann Hedreen: Enough gun violence, already!
Please take the time to read Ms. Hedreen’s thoughts with this article reposted from her blog: The Restless Nest. Ann Hedreen is the author of Her Beautiful Brain: A Memoir.
You know how it is. You don’t want to feel numb. You know that numbness is just pain postponed. Novocained. You know that, in order to get through this, you’ve got to feel. And so you go about your day. You get in the car. You turn on the radio. Some of the speakers […]
We’re all different versions of each other
Black, brown, or white.
Gay, straight or trans.
Rich, middle class or poor.
Religious, agnostic, or atheist.
Young or old…
We’re all the same, but different.
In the book A Different Perspective on Alzheimer’s and Other Dementias: Practical Tools with Spiritual Insights, author Megan Carnarius relayed a conversation she had with one of the employees she supervised in a long-term care facility who was moving out of state. Ms. Carnarius asked this young caregiver what she had learned from her job of four years. This is what she said,
Older people are no different from any of us. People with dementia are no different from us. They all, we all, have the same feelings and needs.
They want to laugh and be silly, they want to be listened to and be taken seriously, they want to be reassured and loved, they want to love and be helpful, make a contribution, just like everyone else.
I learned that here.
It is my hope that all of us learn that same lesson so that whomever is in our lives, so that all those with whom we come in contact, we’ll be able to recognize ourselves in them and perhaps treat them with the respect for which all of us yearn.
Bearing another’s burdens
While waiting for an appointment the other day, I picked up the May 2016 issue of O Magazine and read a brief article by author Elizabeth Gilbert, of Eat, Pray, Love fame in which she relayed her experience riding a cross town bus in New York City – a bus filled with sweaty, disgruntled, rude, and combative passengers. It was the end of the business day for most and from Ms. Gilbert’s perspective, it appeared that every one of them – her included – had had a shitty day. Add to that, the weather was less than accommodating.
The bus driver got on the intercom and announced (I’m paraphrasing here):
I know you’ve all had a lousy day for one reason or another. You’re either upset about something that happened to you today or by what’s currently going on in your lives.
This is what I’d like you to do. When it comes to your bus stop, I’ll hold out my hand and I want all of you to drop your troubles in my hand as you exit the bus. When I get to the Brooklyn Bridge, I’m going to toss all of your troubles out my window.
Will you do that for me?
You can imagine the mixture of mumbling and giggling that ensued after that announcement but at the very first stop, the disembarking passengers symbolically dropped their troubles into the driver’s out-stretched hand.
And then every passenger did the same at each stop along the route.
What a wonderful gift that driver gave to all the perfect strangers that rode his bus that afternoon, a gift that cost him nothing but benefitted so many.
Every day, in so many ways, you and I have the ability to lighten another person’s load.
How will you do so today?
Life on the sidelines vs actively engaged
My husband and I have the privilege of being able to hike during the work week because he’s now retired and we’re not reliant on the weekends to do fun stuff any more. So I took my early 60s body on a hike the other day and let me tell you, it was a doozy.
Now some of you may think that an elevation gain of 1100 feet isn’t all that difficult but my body says otherwise. The incline up the mountain was a looooong one so you’re constantly climbing up, up, up, and your hamstrings are spouting off swear words you never thought you’d hear coming from such a close member of your body.
Added to that, your heart is accustomed to brisk walks through the hills of your neighborhood as well as high-resistance recumbent bike riding both of which should have prepared it for the heart-pumping action required for a mountain hike. Right?
Not so much.
We had never hiked Rattlesnake Ledge before so we had yet to memorize every twist and turn of the trail. We also weren’t intimately acquainted with the 1000s of evergreens along the way so we had no way of answering the question, “Are we there yet?”
Just about the time I spouted off that question what did I see ahead of me but a fellow hiker in his late 80s to early 90s coming down off the mountain…with a smile on his face…carrying a hefty backpack on his somewhat stooped over back. I turned to my husband and said, “Shit! If he can do it, I can do it!” We spoke briefly with the elderly hiker and then we huffed our way up the trail, eventually making it to the top for a picnic lunch.
We caught up with him on the way down the mountain – at his age he certainly takes a wee bit longer to ascend and descend the trail – and being who I am, I started a conversation with him. Come to find out, not only has Ray hiked Rattlesnake Ledge numerous times, but decades ago, he hiked Mount Rainier several times.
“That was decades ago. I certainly couldn’t do that now.” To which I responded, “Look, Ray, you’ve accomplished that feat and we haven’t. And not only have we not accomplished that feat but we have no aspirations of ever doing so.”
Because I tell just about everyone my hubby and I come in contact with that my husband is retired, I told Ray that Jerry had just retired from Boeing after 38 years of service at the company. Ray replied, “I’ve been retired for 30 years now and I’ve loved every minute of it.”
So this is what I’ve concluded: Ray knows how to enjoy life, but not only how to do that but how to really and truly occupy his life. His current life is not just a placemaker until better things come along. NO, he’s making things happen while he still can rather than waiting on the sidelines where nothing ever happens.
As my husband and I were about to continue down the trail ahead of Ray I said, “Glad to know your name Ray, that way when I see you again, I’ll know what to call you.”
“Well, I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to keep up this pace. I may not be on this trail again.”
To which I responded, “Ray, that could be said of everyone on this mountain, myself included, but something tells me we’ll be running into each other some day soon.”
So I learned lots of stuff from my hike the other day. Just because the hike was somewhat uncomfortable – okay, a lot uncomfortable – doesn’t mean I wasn’t supposed to do it. I have to say, once I got home and showered I was astonished to hear myself thinking, “I’d be willing to do that hike again, and one even more difficult than that.”
We look back on difficulties/mountains in our life that at the time seemed insurmountable but when we consider where we’ve been and where we are now we can say not only did we get through it but we’re feeling far more competent to take on even more as a result.
We don’t have to perfect every new endeavor the first time out. Perfection isn’t our goal, is it? I tend to believe that if perfection were our goal, we’d just stay put and never venture out to discover what we’re capable of.
And a last note on this subject: as my husband and I were gleefully hiking down the mountain we came across numerous people huffing and puffing their way up the trail. One or two groups stopped us to ask how much longer it was to the top. We couldn’t lie to them, that wouldn’t be fair, so when this one group of girls in their late teens asked, “Are we there yet?” we had to inform them that they were just over a quarter way up. Oh, the groans coming from them were hilarious but we didn’t laugh at them, my husband simply said, “You can do it!”
To which I’m sure they said – out of our earshot – “If those geezers can do it, we can do it!”
Caregivers: bruised by judgments & criticism (reblogged from My Alzheimer’s Story)
Dedicated to unappreciated care partners worldwide. Thank you for all you do. Dear random person who sees my care partner from time to time and feels the need to point out s/he has bruises all over her/his body that look frightening and s/he has really declined a lot since the last time you saw her/him and…
via an open letter to those who think they know better — My Alzheimer’s Story
Our lives in focus
Through comments by someone I follow on Twitter, I stumbled on the key to living in – and thriving on – the present. Authors Ariel and Shya Kane [@ArielandShya] went through trial and error during their early adult lives in their attempt to find fulfillment.
If you read even one of their books, you’ll discover that they admit their journey took them to many places and venues, under varying conditions, spending great and small amounts of money, only to find the answer to their quest in their every day experiences.
If we’re aware and focusing on the present we’ll find life lessons everywhere we look.
We can be deaf and blind to those lessons, but it doesn’t take a trip to India, a luxury spa, or even a therapist’s office, to practice the art of thriving exactly where we are.
The painful yet honest truth is that we excel at complaining and stressing about situations in which we find ourselves: traffic, long lines at the TSA security checkpoint, our job or lack thereof, boredom, illness, and so on. But if we’re honest with ourselves – and lately I’ve been painfully honest with myself – we’ll conclude that complaining and stressing out over such situations does nothing toward changing them. But changing the way we view those situations does alter how we react to them and therefore how we feel about that moment of time in which we’re inconvenienced because what we would have preferred to happen, did not.
When did your complaining about a lengthy red light – when you were endeavoring to get to an appointment on time – actually make the green light come quicker?
It didn’t.
Here’s a direct quote from the Kane’s book, Practical Enlightenment: Read the rest of this entry »
My Regret and My Shame
This post centers on the following theme:
Never put off for tomorrow what you can do today.
Unfortunately, I did just that.
My sister met her biological mother several years ago. Ever since that time I’ve dreamed of flying to Manitoba, Canada – where her mother lives – with my sister to meet Cathy. That didn’t transpire but in the alternative I planned on sending Cathy a letter to thank her for the unselfish and generous act of placing my sister up for adoption when she found herself pregnant as a high school teenager.
Had she not placed my sister up for adoption way back in 1952, I wouldn’t have the wonderful, giving, fabulous, sister I have today. I wanted to thank Cathy for giving me the best sister a person could ever have.
Guess what, folks? I can’t do that now because Cathy died of a massive stroke this past Mother’s Day. Oddly enough, for the past three weeks I’ve said to myself more than a half dozen times, “I’ve really got to ask Mary for Cathy’s address so I can mail her that letter.”
I guess my intuition is stronger and more reliable than my constitution. I guess I thought I’d have plenty of time to gift Cathy with that letter. How moronic is that, folks? The next minute isn’t guaranteed so why would I think a woman in her 70s would be sitting around just awaiting for the time when I would finally get off my ass and make good on my plans?
Do me a favor, all of you who are reading this post:
do what you intend to do as soon as possible.
I don’t know what that intention may involve. Reconciliation with someone? Complimenting someone who could really benefit from your kind words? Asking forgiveness of someone for prior acts of which you’re ashamed?
Regardless of what that intention looks like, please put it into effect today, not tomorrow.
Tomorrow may never come.
And then where will you be?
Celebrating my husband
This is what retirement looks like on my extraordinary husband. Retirement day was April 28th, 2016.
We spent the night at a local resort, dining for 2.25 hours on a meal deserving of a king because that’s how I view my husband.
Just a few hours earlier, Jerry arrived home from his very last commute from work and I greeted him with a custom made sign that I designed and had made at my local Kinkos location.
And guess what, folks?! Today’s Monday and quite frankly my dear, he doesn’t give a damn.
Retirement with an awesome person
No, my husband isn’t retired quite yet but as of today there are only eight more work days until he is retired. He is certainly excited, but his excitement is tempered with the realization that after 38 years with Boeing as a trusted, well-respected, structures engineer, those skills will no longer be needed from him. Others at the company will have to take over his work, and let me tell you, that’ll be a difficult task for them to accomplish.
Guess what? You can’t take off or land without the airplane part that my husband was responsible for. Oh sure, there are many planes in the Boeing system but Jerry was intimately involved with several generations of those planes.
Even the President of the United States relies on landing gear to get from point A to B and back again. That’s right, the current President and several before him should be thanking Jerry for having the skill level my husband has, I mean, just think about it, the entire weight of an airplane is on the nose and main landing gears … you really, really want them to be structurally sound.
This same extraordinary engineer is also my husband and has been since February of 2000. And guess what? I get to be a part of his retirement experience and I am privileged to be able to grow old (older) with him for many years to come.
The Boeing Company was honored to have my husband in their employ for thirty-eight 38!!!!! years.
Now I get to have him all to myself.
And that makes me extremely happy.
The Overnight Success Myth
A blog I follow, Story Fix 2.0, hosted by Larry Brooks, featured a guest piece written by Art Holcomb on The Nature of Talent. (Excerpts of his article are in italics, indented below.)
Even a writer as talented as Mr. Holcomb has dry spells; dry spells that can even last for eleven years, as was the case for him. He was so desperate to write himself out of the desert and into the lush forest, he drove 120 miles once a week to attend a writing class with science fiction writer, David Gerrold. That writer had Art doing the really hard work to where eventually Art’s productivity and quality came back.
… I got back in touch with my abilities once I realized that creativity works best in harness and under the thumb of a good work ethic.
Writing takes skill, but even more so, it takes talent. Writers are artists whose tools are not paints or charcoal pencils, but whose tools are the written word. Whether art is appreciated on a canvas or the pages of a paperback book, the receiver of that craft has a choice to walk on past the canvas/put down the book, or absorb it for all it is worth.
…for each person willing to do the work, there is a fire that can live forever inside of you. A fire to create, which warms the soul and ignites the imagination. My life would be hollow without it and I am grateful every day that I get to write and create and weave stories that can move friends and strangers alike.
I learned what being a disciplined writer is by participating in the 2015 NaNoWriMo event. I had to write every day in order to complete a novel in just one month’s time, and I did. In less than 30 days, I learned what Art Holcomb learned, if I’m willing to fight for it, my talent will emerge and create a piece of art at which others will want to pause so they can fully appreciate what has been crafted.
After input from my Beta readers and numerous edits, I am on the verge of querying that novel – my second – in an effort to secure agent representation and eventual publication so that the byproduct of my craft can be enjoyed by the masses.
There is no such thing as overnight success.
True, the passage of time and an extraordinary amount of hard work don’t guarantee success, but it’s a damn good place to start. That applies to whatever you’re doing.
You’ve got to put in the time to earn the dime.
The man in the tree – Seattle, Washington
It seems we’re so trained to treat the world as our own personal entertainment venue that when it comes to a mentally challenged man’s fate, we don’t give a shit what happens to him. We the inconvenienced public stand at the base of an 80 foot tree into which he’s climbed in one of the busiest sections of downtown Seattle, Washington and we shout:
“Shoot him!”
Jump!”
What the hell is wrong with us that we so carelessly thrust our complete lack of empathy at this man with words that could very well have ended his life right before our eyes?
Frack you
those who treated this human being’s frailty with such callousness!
Frack you!
The mid-life crisis myth
The Middle-Age Surge written by columnist, David Brooks, is a fabulous expose on what it really means to be living in ones “middle ages.” He reviews the book, Life Reimagined, by Barbara Bradley Hagerty while also proposing that the idea of mid-life crisis is truly a myth that many don’t see as being applicable to them. I mean seriously, people, how many friends or coworkers of yours purchased a zippy sports car when they hit their mid-40s or later?
Many years ago I briefly dated a guy who drove a gold-colored early model Porsche. On my third date with him, I said, “You know what they say about guys who drive Porsches, don’t you?” His response was nowhere near the statement I was going to provide that centered around over-compensation for short-comings. He said, “Yeah, they have lots of money.”
Not even close.
Anyway, Mr. Brooks quotes theologian Karl Barth who described midlife in this manner:
The sowing is behind; now is the time to reap. The run has been taken; now is the time to leap. Preparation has been made; now is the time for the venture of the work itself.
I can unabashedly declare that I can look back on my life with a more refined foundation of wisdom; I can move forward, not haphazardly, but with focus and intent. I know what’s important to accomplish before my time on this earth comes to an end, and I’m not going to let anything get in the way of my doing so. (So watch out publishers, I’m knocking on your doors!)
The people who find meaning at this stage often realize the way up is down. They get off that supervisor’s perch and put themselves in direct contact with the people they can help the most. They accept that certain glorious youthful dreams won’t be realized, but other, more relational jobs turn out to be more fulfilling.
One of the conclusions the columnist comes to is that the mature mid-life folks “are less likely, given all the judgments that have been made, to care about what other people think.”
And that describes me to a T.
See also:
I still have something to say, 700 posts later
I started this Blog site in September 2011. Five and a half years later I’ve reached a milestone with this entry: my 700th post.
I don’t know what is the average survival rate of a Blog. I guess as long as the host has something to say and is willing to be consistent in her/his efforts, it can last quite some time.
Four years after the death of my father to Alzheimer’s disease I started looking into what all this blogging crapola was about. I felt my experience as a caregiver, coupled with my work as a long-term care ombudsman for the State of Washington (now retired), gave me ample ammunition for subject matters that relate to our aging population … but not just to our aging population, to all of you who are faced with the struggles inherent from having aging loved ones.
About half way through my Blogging experience I changed the “About this Blog” portion of my website to reflect that there is a commonality among those problems experienced by young and old alike. Those problems may look somewhat different on the outside but all of them involve the following sentiment:
Life sometimes throws curve balls at us for which none of us are prepared.
I guess I still maintain this Blog because I still have something to say, and some people out there still need to hear it.
I witnessed a sad occurrence at my local grocery store the other day. Read the rest of this entry »
Celebrating small comforts
Every year, a “married” pair of Mallard ducks arrives in my neighborhood and quite frequently, they paddle around in the drainage ditch in front of our home. Now I’m not so naive as to think that it’s the same pair that arrive each year, but I pretend that is the case and I’ve named them Fred and Ethel.
Meet my spring time visitors. I love the constancy of seeing them each spring, or thereabouts. When I came home from an early appointment this morning, they were waiting for me. The delight I felt, and expressed, would have surprised most people … but then again, they probably don’t know how much comfort I find in the predictable and expected. But I’m certain I’m not the only one who doesn’t mind a bit of same-o, same-o now and again. Right?
An Artist’s Paranoia
I’m one of countless artists in the world who work in solitude and hope for public acknowledgement some day down the line.
I happen to be a writer, fiction primarily, but there are many other artistic crafts: painting, drawing, sculpting, metal work, woodworking, stained glass, and on and on and on. Bottom line, artists create and hope beyond all hope that what they create is liked by the masses … or at least one person who is not related to them, or financially obligated to them, or otherwise committed to the person doing the artistry.
I belong to several writing groups on social media. A day doesn’t go by that one of us writer’s doesn’t post a rant or a tear-filled comment such as:
Okay everyone, an agent requested my manuscript last week and said she’d have a look-see over the weekend … it’s now Thursday and I haven’t heard from her … Did she hate my manuscript? Did she even read it? Should I give up as a writer? What in God’s name should I do?
Sound exaggerated? It’s not.
I can’t speak for what it’s like to be an engineer or an accountant or a lawyer, doctor, bus driver, mail person, or what have you, but I can say that paranoia is many an artist’s primary personality trait. Consequently, we crave affirmation in order to continue doing what it is we do.
Remember Sally Field when she won an Oscar in 1984 for her role in the film Places in the Heart? During her acceptance speech she emoted that winning the Oscar told her that “you like me … right now … you like me.”
When that same paranoid author (three paragraphs above) is finally published, she won’t sleep at night without having read every review of her book on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Goodreads, Publisher’s Weekly, etc. And for every bad review, she’ll forget the good reviews and the four or five stars awarded her masterpiece, which, quite frankly, is the manifestation of her heart, laid out in the open for everyone to spit and step on.
At that point she may as well give up sleeping entirely until she believes in herself, regardless of what the reviews say, regardless of her Amazon book ranking, regardless of whether someone returns her e-mail right away or not at all.
If artists believe in what they create, if their whole raison d’être is doing what they do come what may, it won’t matter what the critics say … well, it will matter what they say but she’ll still love herself in spite of it.
And if all of you wouldn’t mind reminding me of this fact now and again while I’m on this seemingly never-ending road to publication, I will be forever indebted to you … if it’s not too much trouble … if you have the time … if you think I’m worthy …
Click on these brief stories that describe my delight when a literary agent complimented my short, short stories, occurrences that made my day:
Complimentary words from a literary agent; Positive input from an agent: a welcome gift.
Small acts of kindness, huge benefit
The other day I showed up ten minutes before my local pharmacy opened, wanting to be sure to get immediate assistance when I brought in a prescription to be filled.
Three extraordinary – yet small – things happened at that early hour when I was feeling less than able to even stand while I waited for the pharmacy gate to open.
- A store clerk that was doing some pricing procedures in the main part of the store in front of the pharmacy greeted me, asked how I was doing, and when I responded, “Not so great, actually” offered to help me to the pharmacy bench.
- Then the pharmacist opened the pharmacy early, 8:55 am, and told me my prescription would be ready in 10 minutes. I then left the pharmacy to go to the women’s room and as I was walking back, the third kindness occurred.
- The store clerk who had greeted me upon my arrival in the pharmacy area took the time to find me at a different area of the store to let me know my prescription was ready.
Big deal, such small courtesies are hardly worth writing a blog piece about, right?
Wrong, they lightened my burden and jump-started my day.
Don’t ever feel your efforts won’t make a difference.
They do, and they have.
The split personalities of a caregiver
Source: ON LABELS, ROLES AND MARRIAGE WITH ALZHEIMER’S This linked article does a fabulous job of putting a spotlight on the roles we take on when we become caregivers. Does our original role as: wife, husband, son, daughter, brother, sister, disappear when that role-shift takes place?
I’ve known numerous caregivers in my life. I was one.
Before I became a caregiver, I was a daughter. Was I still a daughter once my role as a caregiver became a 24/7 occupation?
It didn’t feel like it when:
- I had to cut up my father’s food for him
- I had to pack adult protective underwear when I took him on a walk in the park … just in case
- I had to correct him for behavior unbecoming of an adult
- I took him to a doctor appointment and spoke to the doctor on my father’s behalf
- I tucked him in for a nap so I could get things accomplished without him being tethered to me wherever I went …
Was I his parent? Was I his caregiver?
No. I was his daughter. I took on a variety of roles during the years of my father’s decline with Alzheimer’s, but I was always his daughter. As a matter of fact, never had I felt more like a daughter than during the five years of his illness.
During one of my walks in the park with dad, on his last Father’s Day as it turned out to be, two young men rode their bikes toward us and as they got right up to us, one of the men said, “Happy Father’s Day, Sir.”
That young man saw a daughter and a father, not a caregiver and an old man.
Dad took his parenting role very seriously. By the time I was on my own, he had been actively mentoring and caring for me for twenty-one years.
What’s five years in the grand scheme of things?
A privilege.
See also:
- Baby Boomer + Aging Parent = a changing paradigm
- Adult children who parent their parents
- Ambiguous loss – the experience of caregiver spouses
- When illness makes a spouse a stranger
Necessity is the mother of invention
Source: Sprinkled With Love
Norcalmom writes a blog that tells it like it is when operating as the primary caregiver for a loved one. She has a full household, with children of varying ages, a mother-in-law with Alzheimer’s, a husband whose work schedule pulls him out of the home during many of the caregiving opportunities, and yet this daughter-in-law manages her household in ingenious ways.
Whether it’s purchasing and installing locks so her MIL doesn’t escape from the house at inopportune times (which, frankly, means any attempted escape from the house) or finding activities to occupy her MIL so Norcalmom can get things done, e.g., making dinner for the family, she puts on her thinking cap, listens – truly listens – to what may interest the oldest member of her household, and does what is needed to get the job done.
Her MIL is very much intrigued with sparkly things, specifically, glitter. In her eyes, if she spots specks of gold-colored glitter, it is not glitter she is feasting her eyes on it is the real deal: GOLD!
Please, click on the link provided at the beginning of this mini-post of mine, and feast your eyes on the treasure within.
Owning our mistakes
I can honestly say, if I screw up, I admit it and try to do better. I’m not perfect. I’ll never be perfect. I apologize when my imperfections impact others.
If only everyone would take responsibility for their mess-ups. It’s okay not to be perfect, join the club, there’s a large membership and I’m the president!
Walking down a hill during my solo afternoon walk today, a man was walking up that same hill approximately a half block away. His small white dog – not on a leash – ran past its owner and toward me. I turned right onto a different street, the dog followed me and barked at me. I said “no” a few times and he eventually backed off. (No involvement by the dog owner whatsoever.)
One and a half miles later, that same dog owner, with that same unleashed dog, ended up on the same street as I, a half block away, on the opposite side of the street.
How to make the best of a New Year, every day
My last post of 2015 talked about making resolutions you can actually fulfill.
This first post of 2016 proposes that every day be treated as one does a New Year.
I’ll borrow sentiments from Dr. Bernie S. Siegel again, providing you with wisdom that might help you get a good start on 2016, and every day you’ve been given. Direct quotes will appear indented in this post.
How can you have a new year? You are the same person, and the world doesn’t start again with a clean slate. Your troubles don’t disappear. People don’t forgive you for what you did the year before…
Your life is anything but new when you awaken on the first day of the year. It is simply a way of measuring the passage of time. Why make such a fuss over it?
We like new starts, don’t we? There’s something refreshing about having the opportunity to start all over again. Not unlike second chances, I treat the commencement of a new year as an opportunity to do better. Unless you’re perfect, you too like the idea of a fresh start.
The truth lies in our desire to be reborn, to start again, to make resolutions and changes we can live up to. Then why wait for a certain date to start a new year? Why can’t tomorrow be New Year’s Day?
Maybe it is!
Wow, instead of waiting 365 days to do better, I can do better in the next minute. I don’t even have to wait until tomorrow. Right now, I can do better. I can think of and speak more kindly towards others and myself. I can promote a healthier lifestyle and make plans to construct a better me and a better world. Why wait?
I see it every day in my role as a physician; people learn they have a limited time to live, and they start their New Year behavior. They move, change jobs, spend more time with those they love, stop worrying about what everyone else thinks of them, and start to celebrate their life.
Whoa, why wait until it’s too late? Quite literally, when you’ve been given a death sentence, it is too late. I’m not going to rely on receiving such a prognosis to get things right, I’m going to make every effort to do better for myself and others, right now.
I have the chance to live my best life now, and so do you.
When every evening is New Year’s Eve and every day you awaken to is New Year’s Day, you are living life as it was intended.
Wow, given the alternative, I’ll get right on it!
The Gift
The top item on my Christmas list this year was something 100% of you would never ask Santa for:
A new guest bathroom toilet
The current one doesn’t resemble the one pictured here, but it has been in the house since it was constructed some 25 years ago, so it’s not one of those sophisticated, high efficiency, low water type such as grace our master bathroom and powder room.
Did my husband, I mean, Santa, get my #1 gift choice?
Not on your life. Instead he gifted me with a portable electronic device from a company that rhymes with Dapple.
I guess I’ll just have to find a use for it to honor the generosity of the best husband a woman could ever hope for.
Lest you think I measure generosity with dollar signs, read further. Read the rest of this entry »
It is never wrong to do good
You’ll never be faulted for doing your best.
Regardless of the outcome, always fall back on doing something for the common good.
I’m currently reading The Road to Character, a book by columnist and political pundit, David Brooks. I recently watched an interview of his with Oprah Winfrey and was so impressed with the subject matter, I purchased the book he was promoting.
Mr. Brooks talks and writes about the difference between Adam I and Adam II, the latter being the person who has lived a eulogy life, not the resume life of Adam I. You’ll need to read the book to understand the full contextual meaning, but what follows is just one of many elements that resounded with me. I provide this excerpt verbatim:
When a person gives a poor man shoes, does he do it for the poor man or for God? He should do it for God …
The poor will often be ungrateful, and you will lose heart if you rely on immediate emotional rewards for your work. But if you do it for God, you will never grow discouraged.
A person with a deep vocation is not dependent on constant positive reinforcement. The job doesn’t have to pay off every month, or every year.
The person thus called is performing a task because it is intrinsically good, not for what it produces.
You see, we’re not responsible for the outcome. Most of the time, we’ll never witness how our good deeds helped another person. If our motivation was only to observe first-hand the benefits such deeds might produce, we’d stop doing good in short order. We must exercise faith and hope that our actions are not wasted.
Your ability to discern your vocation depends on the condition of your eyes and ears, whether they are sensitive enough to understand the assignment your context is giving you. As the Jewish Mishnah puts it, “It’s not your obligation to complete the work, but neither are you free to desist from beginning it.”
All that we do with a clear conscience is good. We must not refrain from standing up and stepping forward. The good we do may be the beginning of a widespread process of well-being for others, or it may be the finishing touches on that which was started some time before you came into the picture.
It’s never too late to do good. Why resolutionize your intentions until next year? Start now.
See also: Your positive imprint on mankind, Do little rather than nothing, Valuable acts of kindness, Positive community activism
Gone but not forgotten
Having completed my second novel, currently titled BRIDGED BY BETRAYAL, I packed up all the research I used for my first novel, REQUIEM FOR THE STATUS QUO.
REQUIEM spotlights a family that struggles with the tangible and emotional elements inherent when battling a disease that is always fatal; a disease that gives you daily – if not hourly – reminders of its devastating effects.
I could not write about the fictional family’s journey without incorporating some of my own stories from my years as Dad’s caregiver. I also included other people’s stories as told to me through my work as an Alzheimer’s caregiver support group facilitator, and as a Washington State certified Long-Term Care Ombudsman. (Names and facts altered to protect those directly involved.)
The research materials I packed away this past weekend consisted primarily of the caregiving journals I kept while being my father’s primary long-distance caregiver while he endured Alzheimer’s disease.
That research also included reams of paper I organized into multi-tabbed folders containing the various doctor’s reports and findings from the seven years of dad’s disease journey.
I was not prepared for the emotion with which I was blanketed when I pulled out the large waterproof chest that had resided in my writing space the past three years. Placing my research in the chest, shutting it, and returning it to its original under-the-stairs location was extremely difficult for me.
In a certain sense, I felt I had betrayed Dad because I wasn’t just packing up some paper, I was putting away the physical evidence of his seven year battle of brain function loss. Read the rest of this entry »
First step for any endeavor: START
You have an idea that turns into a personal goal. You plan for it, making a list of To Dos and To Purchase, or whatever lists are required to put your idea into motion.
Then you’re paralyzed: when do I start? how do I start? You begin to second guess your idea, your plans, your goal.
Paralysis by analysis sets in. You freeze in place. You do nothing for a day, a week, a month, eventually discarding the project about which you were initially very excited.
Doubt sidelined your goal.
For me, taking that first step can be the beginning of failure, and because it is, oftentimes it’s a step I choose not to take.
I signed up for National Novel Writing Month, NaNoWriMo, in August or September, I don’t remember. I purchased book-drafting software called Snowflake, and went through every step needed to prepare an outline and/or book proposal for a novel, my second. I was extremely excited about the novel’s concept.
I kept receiving NaNoWriMo emails, counting down the days until November 1st when that novel writing month would commence. The second week of October I questioned the sensibility of subjecting myself to completing a novel in thirty days. The third week of October, I ceased all preparation. Monday of the fourth week of October, I decided not to participate. Read the rest of this entry »
Isolation after the death of a loved one
I had the privilege of facilitating an Alzheimer’s caregiver support group meeting this afternoon. For several years I facilitated my own caregiver support meeting but retired from doing so in 2013. Earlier this year I was the substitute facilitator for this same meeting and was so very impressed with the group of ladies I met then, a few of whom were in the meeting again today.
One of the gals, Georgina (not her real name) lost her husband to Alzheimer’s in January. She told the group that while her husband was still alive, the two of them were always invited to a Holiday gathering of friends – all married couples – to celebrate the Christmas season. She found out recently that she was not invited to this year’s event.
Quite frankly, she hadn’t yet thought about the Holiday party, thinking the invitation might be forthcoming but certainly wasn’t stressing out about it. Quite innocently, one of her friends mentioned the party in passing, saying, “Looking forward to seeing you at the annual Christmas celebration” not realizing that the host of the party had not included Georgina on this year’s guest list.
The attendees at today’s meeting had these thoughts to say about the situation: Read the rest of this entry »
The past – and the truth – have set me free
Oftentimes we’re told that we should forget about the past. Sure, it’s okay to learn from past bad decisions, but sometimes those years are better left alone.
The other day, I went back twenty-one years to uncover the basis for a mystery that has haunted me since September 24th, 1994. Twenty one years of fear and uncertainty came to an end in just ten minutes time.
My mother died on September 24th, 1994 in my parents’ home in Honolulu, Hawaii. She was 77 years old and she died in her sleep. Although she had some chronic health-related issues with which to contend, no one could have predicted her sudden death because she lived a vital and active life.
Dad didn’t want an autopsy performed on my mother which – at the time – I was okay with; it was his decision to make; he didn’t want her body assaulted just to find out why her life ended on that particular day.
That decision was the basis for my twenty-one years of fear.
Read the rest of this entry »
It takes courage to be passionate
David Brooks’ article, Lady Gaga and the life of passion, speaks of putting ourselves out there for something for which we are passionate.
All that is needed for a person to conclude that Lady Gaga puts herself out there is to watch just one of her performances or appearances at awards shows. She wore a meat dress at the 2010 MTV Video Music Awards. Outsiders like ourselves look at such a display and might think unkind thoughts about a person who is extremely passionate about her craft.
For most of us, putting ourselves out there means singing at the top of our lungs in the shower or car where no one can hear us. Or perhaps our definition of being out there means matching a floral print top with checked shorts when on vacation where no one knows us.
David Brooks’ article covers the passion involved when we’re courageous enough to follow our dreams, dreams portrayed in this manner by Lady Gaga:
I suppose that I didn’t know what I would become, but I always wanted to be extremely brave and I wanted to be a constant reminder to the universe of what passion looks like. What it sounds like. What it feels like.
Given that description, us aforementioned outsiders might feel differently about how this extraordinarily talented singer/performer expresses herself.
So what does it mean to live a life of passion? Read the rest of this entry »
Pack courage in your toolbox
Whatever you do, you need courage. Whatever course you decide upon, there is always someone to tell you that you are wrong.
There are always difficulties arising that tempt you to believe your critics are right. To map out a course of action and follow it to an end requires some of the same courage that a soldier needs. – Ralph Waldo Emerson
If you are facing difficulties that seem insurmountable, I want to en-courage you to draw on that which lies deep within you.
Oh, sure, you may think you lack what it takes to climb over that speed bump – or mountain – that’s directly in front of you, but I have faith that you will not only do so, but you will rise victorious to the top.
You are stronger than you think.
Believe it.
Tips for helping a caregiver
The latest AARP Magazine had a fabulous article providing helpful ways in which to make a caregiver’s life just a wee bit – or quite a bit – better. Here are a few tips for you to adopt in your life.
- Bring her a low-maintenance houseplant
- Take in his mail
- Do yard upkeep, whether raking leaves, mowing the lawn, shoveling snow
- When you’re heading out to buy groceries, ask him if you can pick some things up for him
- Take her kids or grandkids to the park or to a movie
- Stop by with a board game or a movie to watch – a perfect way to get his mind off things
- Visit her with a pet that has a sweet disposition
- Take his dog on a walk – maybe on a daily or weekly basis
- Do some light housework or repairs: dishes, vacuuming, dusting, ironing, smoke alarm battery and light bulb changing, fixing a leaky faucet
- Return her library books
- Volunteer to stay at home to wait for the cable technician, repairman, etc. while he attends to other more pressing needs
- Bring him a week’s worth of meals in freezable containers
- Send her a greeting card on an ongoing basis. Who doesn’t love to receive real postal mail?
- When visiting, let the person vent, without passing verbal judgment on what they may say
- Do an item or two on her To-Do list – I promise you, her list is extraordinarily long
- Offer to make a photo album with him, using photos that mean a lot to him and the rest of the family
- Give him a gift card to a restaurant he may enjoy, or better yet, take him out to dinner
- Help him decorate for the holidays
- Drop off or pick up a prescription
- Keep in touch with her, even after her loved one passes. Too often, the grieving one has more attention than she can handle immediately after someone dies, then when she could really use some TLC, no one can be found.
Living: the ultimate team sport 