Not Easy To Be - or See

Getting old is an achievement. And there are wonderful examples all around me of people healthy enough to be living well in their older years. Some are not as fortunate. They require more care than they can get at home or more than the people they love can give. My hubby's grandmother is one such person. Nana is suffering from dementia Alzheimer's and lives in a long term care home. She is 96 years old. She leans heavily on the walker she depends on for stability, her eyesight is a little cloudy and her hearing is as good as can be expected for a person her age.

Today I joined MIH on her visit to Nana. We signed in, declared that we had our flu shot, took a squirt not a sip of alcohol sanitizer and headed up to find her. It was close to noon hour so we started in the almost silent dining room. She was sitting at a table with three other ladies -- all of them with eyes closed, gently dozing as they waited for their lunch. tug at heart string

These visits are not easy for MIH -- Nana's Alzheimer's is progressing and she has difficulty remembering people and pretty much anything else. Her eyes popped open at our touch and she looked at her daughter - bewilderment and confusion sketched on her face -- until I called MIH by name. At the mention of taking her out for lunch, she practically bolted out of her seat with a blast of energy and enthusiasm reserved for winning bingo.

This tiny little person's reality has changed drastically [understatement]. Memories of her early years are more alive to her than anything. Her joys now come from small pleasures ... a nice cup of coffee; a cream filled donut her eyes light up with that one; or a warm hug and kiss. Today she was describing how she had gone to church downstairs - like she has done religiously for more than 70 years - and felt "out of it". She couldn't remember the rituals nor the people in the pews. Her look drifted off and she said, in a very resigned, quiet voice, "it's hard to know what to do, really". another tug

These visits are heartbreaking for MIH. Her mother never remembers them, and sometimes she barely remembers her own daughter (MIH). Nana always insists on walking us to the elevator and with a final hug you wrestle to keep your composure as the doors of the elevator slowly close, and Nana disappears from sight. tug, tug

I assured MIH that although Nana won't remember the visit, the laughs we had and the treats we devoured, the time spent was not in vain. For a few hours this elderly little woman's sentence to misery was suspended, and she experienced the joy you can only get from connecting with the ones you love. On the way home in the car, MIH commented that it seems tragic that life can take you from marrying, raising a family, and losing your spouse - to ending up in a facility, simply existing.

MIH is a devoted daughter and Nana is blessed. I couldn't help noticing (and photographing) others who are not so fortunate.

A Walk in the Park

Warm, breezy air, clear blue skies and sunshine ... a rare sparkle of the day. We headed to the lakefront for a walk in the park. Fritz studied us anxiously as we tied up our shoes and followed us to the door. Looking up at us with his best pathetic puppy face and widest eyes, his nubby little tail wiggling, I used the magic word -- park. This triggered an spasmodic episode of epic proportions with leaping, twirling in circles, and yelping. We were off!

Apparently alot of people had the same clever idea. Everywhere I looked I saw heartwarming scenes: children laughing as they hung from climbers; dad's throwing balls with their kids; lovers cuddling on park benches; families spread out on blankets enjoying picnics; elderly couples strolling leisurely arm in arm; kids skipping rocks on the shoreline; people walking dogs - dogs walking their owners. Newlyweds posed lovingly, flirting with the camera as their milestone day was captured.

We live in one of the most picturesque towns in the country and hubby and I try to make a point of soaking up its beauty every chance we get. I have a special love of the water and one of my favourite things to do is to sit lakeside and watch the boats as they come and go. I feel a pull to the water and as long as I was old enough to do so, the river or lakefront is where I headed when I needed to think or clear my head.

I had my camera with me of course and the day and the setting was perfect for photography. When I saw something worthy of a shot, I simply handed hubby the leash and the bag of poop (he loved that) and snapped happily.

We capped our day with a dip in the pool. A walk in the park and a dip in the pool --- doesn't get better than that!

The fruits of my labour ...

Taking the Plunge

I am declaring it's official -- summer has come to stay. In staunch denial of any chill in the air or stalled summer weather Hubby and I christened our pool. We donned our suits (well I did -- hubby improvised with cotton gym shorts) and took the plunge - figuratively and literally!

When Hubby suggested the after work swim, I reserved my answer until I tested the water. Hubby and I have different ideas of what constitutes warm, hot and cold. Basically everything to Hubby is "too warm". I on the other hand am always cold and have the dog sitting on my feet. Timidly I dipped my foot into the water. I cringed. The air was chilly and the water didn't feel much better. Hubby had his exasperated face on - warning that he didn't know how I was going to ever swim in the pool because the temperature was already over 82 degrees. I decided to bite the bullet, and walk on the wild side. "Let's do it!" That being said -- where the heck were our suits?

I walked proudly to the pool, head held high, fearless and determined. I dropped my towel and - holding my breath - walked without hesitation into the warm (ha!) water. Hubby was already playing Flipper. To my surprise, my aires were needless -- the water was indeed warm and soothing and it didn't take long to exhale all of the pride, determination and courage I had summoned and simply r e l a x. Any cares I had dissolved and I could feel myself being wrapped in that old familiar blanket of peace.

Moral(s) of the story:
Ready or not, take the plunge.
Just say Yes!
Store your swimsuit in a place you will remember.
Try your bathing suit on before swimsuit season; or get on your knees and give thanks for super stretchy fabric. I did.
Swimming makes you feel like you are on vacation -- but cheaper.
Bonus: salt water makes your feet soft!

All in a Day's Work

I leave my Dad alone for a day and he builds himself a pegola -- with a little help from my brother. He's like that -- he gets an idea for a project and then tackles it heart and soul until it is completed. I swear he is a thirty-five year old trapped in an older man's body.

He is a person who soaks every hour of each day of life for all its worth. He gets good mileage on his years - he stretches a day farther than anyone I know.

At 72 he walks a little slower, his joints are a little stiffer and arthritis is his constant companion. Yet he shows no signs of slowing down. He loves to have dreams, plans and projects. He's a man in motion. Wish we could bottle that.

He inspires me to live more fully and wring the most out of each day, although I admit that I don't have a fraction of his energy and drive. Case in point -- I'm writing this from the couch. I look around my place and have a feeling borderlining on overwhelmed. Think clutter and disorganization. You could write your name in the dust on my coffee table. And it doesn't help to have Fritz the hedge loving schnauzer shedding his cedar branches all over the house. So much to do and I've let things slip around here the past few weeks. But I guess that's what the weekend is for ... but not if it's sunny and hot.

If I work Dad-style I can get the place in order -- in short order. It's all in a day's work.

And Dad -- I love the pegola!

Say It Nicely

It's not only what you say - it's how you say it. I've said this a million times or more I'm sure.

This is a concept I have tried to instill in my girls, and I firmly believe it to be true. Words have a power of their own without the need of added belligerence, rudeness or hostility.

You know what I mean ... you lovingly call your kid's name (like only a mom can) and they answer "what???", fully charged with indignation and impatience. Excuse me for caring! Or someone hollers angrily at you that you jumped the line (inadvertently of course) - when a simple "excuse me, the line starts back here" would suffice.

You can disagree, share a strong opinion, deliver bad news, express disappointment or anger - all in a respectful manner - no shouting or hostility required. I've had to say difficult things like "I'm letting you go" , "your performance is weak and needs work", "I hope you'll understand if I don't return your calls", and "I felt abandoned by you". In each case - although I was uncomfortable delivering these messages - I did it with kindness and respect, knowing that the person receiving them could be angry or emotional.

We need to be able to speak our truths, to clear the air and to be authentic in our feelings and opinions. That being said, we have to also remember to be polite, respectful and empathetic when saying difficult things, and let the words express. Say what you mean, and mean what you say. Just say it nicely.

Fortunate

It's so much fun to help others spend their money ... and that is exactly what I did tonight. My artist friend is getting ready for her rafting trip on the Colorado River she is taking in a few weeks so we went shopping in a very earthy outfitter store. An eager sales associate proved just how complex it is to choose the most appropriate hydration system, personally explaining and displaying every option imaginable. She was just trying to buy a water bottle. He wrapped up his spiel by suggesting the ultimate option of a hydration pack that you wear on your back. This is after my friend already complained about the water bottle being too large.

The final chuckle were the banana guards stationed at the cash register. I had never seen such a thing and truth be told, I felt guilty even touching it. While I quipped inappropriate jokes about its likeness to [censored] the sales girl with a straight face told me she not only owned one, but used it every day. I just hope it was for her bananas.

Ended our little shopping expedition with some delicious Asian fusion fare. Better fusion than the confusion we started out with earlier ... and it wouldn't be Asian without the fortune cookies. But then again, I don't need a cookie to tell me how lucky I am to have great friends ... and a great life.

Today's take away -- a humorous if not awesome stocking stuffer idea -- no batteries required!

Letting Go

Letting go of that over which we have no control ...

I am learning to do this better with each passing year. I am a little bit of a control freak and a fixer ... and I tend to get frustrated when I can't resolve / solve something. I am relentless in my attempts to make it right. Then the day came when I hit a wall -- a disease in my mother that I couldn't fix. By her example I learned to take full control of what I could (her care) and let go of what I couldn't (her illness).

I've encountered friends and family who suffer with alcoholism and I learned that I couldn't control their drinking - but I could choose my response and participation in it. There was a time when I would spend countless hours on the phone listening and coaching an inebriated soul on the other end who - next day - couldn't remember the call. I would forgo my children's bedtime stories to "help". I was missing the part where the drinker had to decide they needed help.

I came to realize that my bid to be a helper was actually somewhat egotistical -- I was deriving self importance while letting my priorities slip. What was that about - a deep seated need to be needed -- or make a difference?

Life has a way of delivering unordered tragedies, roadblocks and hurdles. They are tests. We should expect them. And the question is not "why" - but rather "how" best we can handle them, or help others to do so. It is a choice we can make ... and that is something we can control.