This is not going to be as serious as it seems from the title. As many close to me know- my Grandmother has Alzheimers and I have been helping her out. Now- there is the hollywood version of helping Alzheimer's patients out, the do-good version (you know- let's all go to the assisted living place and sing a song), then there is the Granddaughter version:
1) Junk Mail. She gets on average (this is not a lie) 30 pieces of junk mail a day - specifically asking for money. She has several magazine subscriptions, some doubled, and a handful of "thank you"gifts coming in from when she gives money - which is often. I have inherited many of these gifts (bags, socks, underwear, dreamcatchers, coins, rosaries, gloves, reading lights, a sticker spporting the police chiefs (why do they need support? they have guns) and of course various doubled magazines).... She keeps the cards and calendars to herself - last year we threw out 150 calendars. Wow. I am in the process of calling all these people and trying to get her off the mailing list. Interesting and challenging.
2) Real mail. Things like- oh- say a tax adjusment for the 2007 tax year, that was mailed July 27 2009 and needed to be addressed in 30 days.... just found it. Nice. Mailing it to her tax friend who is perhaps 85 and still doing her taxes. Can't help but be a little nervous about that one. Bills, checks, statements, bills for things she "ordered" (aka "get a FREE preview of our book, andifyoulikeitwe'llbillyou10dayslater"), bills that are months over due and bills that are for things she doesn't need. I snatch as much as I can and mail it to Dad or take care of it if it is immediate. This feels like being financially responsible.... without the checks. Fun.
3) Medicine - I talked about this in a previous post. Refilling prescriptions and dreaming up ways to get her to take em- check!
4) Eating/Groceries- going to eat with her, going grocery shopping with her is especially hilarious... before I would try to steer her away from buying the honey buns and cakes, but she's 91 lbs and 87 years old. I make sure she buys the fattest kind. She has a severe sweet tooth and nothing to show for it- we hate her and love her. Dessert is not an option- so I have to order really healthy lunches to make up for the dessert. I have kept her from buying frozen chicken nuggets "in case company comes" by showing her while they were cooked - she would have to re-cook them. She also doesn't always know what she needs- so I have to steal a glance at her fridge and pantry- and then throw in some ensures and protein bars so she can fatten up.
5) Solicitors- every time her phone rings when I'm there- I rush to get it before her. It is always someone wanting money or checking up on a pledge she unwittingly made. Seriously- they should know better!
and that is just a little snap shot of it. We also have piles of magazines, books, and mailing in our house so that it isn't in hers.
I felt like painting this more realistic picture of what caring for my Grandmother is- just because I have a pile of her papers in front of me and thought- this is everywhere! Now it's in my blog. ha. The last thing I will say is that the perks of taking care of Grandmother are wonderful- she speaks so positively all the time- it helps me remember in her words that: every day is a great day, Hunter is always so happy and cheerful, I am so lucky, She is so grateful, It's a perfect day to walk/drive/ be out, and she loves me and feels close to me. That makes the mudane worthwhile. Plus her stories-every now and then I'll get a new one. ; )
Ok- need to shower.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Music in Asheville
Asheville (no- not Nashville)- Jason, Hunter and I just returned from a really nice trip to Asheville, NC. We were there to celebrate and get together with my sister Kelly and her birthday hubby Jeff and of course precious Lucy- our niece. It was so fun. We arrived Thursday night, put Hunter to bed and then enjoyed the hot tub (man- it would be so nice to have one of those!). Kelly and Jeff came much later- but not so late that we couldn't share a glass of wine in the hot tub. We stayed up way too late, our babies had pity and slept in a little.
Friday Jeff's folks arrived and that night the two couples went to a concert. This is how I know I am getting old- the concert was awesome. The reasons it was awesome: the venue was perfect- non-smoking bar/grill type atmosphere with about 100 seats to the stage, small and perfect... the music was amazing - it was a super group called WPA of Glen Phillips (from Toad the Wet Sprocket), the guitar guy from Nickel Creek and some other amazing musicians. I don't remember the details- but I remember the music and how it made me feel and how refreshing it was to see the performers enjoying the music. It felt like we were just happening by a jam session- only organized. It has been so long since I've lost myself in music- and I had that feeling that night. I could have closed my eyes and swayed and twirled in the back of the room if I didn't have any social inhibitions. It made me want to do that very thing at home- dance aimlessly. It has been a long time since I've done that.
When I was a little girl we had a house in Ft Walton Beach, Fl with a long long living room with high high ceilings. It felt like a cathedral - and it was my dancing sanctuary. I would grab my boom box, put on a little Madonna, Paula Abdul, Ace of Base- whatever mood struck me- and twirl and sway and dance and sing around that room. I would close my eyes and sing it out- let the weight of my body predict the next space I would occupy. I had no routine, no audience- just a free movement and a large floor. Those times made me so happy. I think the other night- I almost felt like a little kid again- like that little 10 year old that wanted to move with the music. It's sad that it takes a glass of wine and a live band to reclaim that feeling- but who cares- I felt it for a whole evening- and it was bliss. I think I understand why some artists are willing to starve for their art- it's the child-like bliss that makes it worth it. It feels like joy.
That look was on the faces of the performers- which is why it didn't feel like a performance. I felt like they were letting me in on their little world of joy- sharing it with me. I paid them for the pleasure and bought their CD to encourage them to continue on. That joy is not a given for all performers- and I just realized the obvious of how wonderful and fun it is to watch other people having the time of their lives. This is my kind of concert. So fun- thanks to Kelly and Jeff for inviting us!
Friday Jeff's folks arrived and that night the two couples went to a concert. This is how I know I am getting old- the concert was awesome. The reasons it was awesome: the venue was perfect- non-smoking bar/grill type atmosphere with about 100 seats to the stage, small and perfect... the music was amazing - it was a super group called WPA of Glen Phillips (from Toad the Wet Sprocket), the guitar guy from Nickel Creek and some other amazing musicians. I don't remember the details- but I remember the music and how it made me feel and how refreshing it was to see the performers enjoying the music. It felt like we were just happening by a jam session- only organized. It has been so long since I've lost myself in music- and I had that feeling that night. I could have closed my eyes and swayed and twirled in the back of the room if I didn't have any social inhibitions. It made me want to do that very thing at home- dance aimlessly. It has been a long time since I've done that.
When I was a little girl we had a house in Ft Walton Beach, Fl with a long long living room with high high ceilings. It felt like a cathedral - and it was my dancing sanctuary. I would grab my boom box, put on a little Madonna, Paula Abdul, Ace of Base- whatever mood struck me- and twirl and sway and dance and sing around that room. I would close my eyes and sing it out- let the weight of my body predict the next space I would occupy. I had no routine, no audience- just a free movement and a large floor. Those times made me so happy. I think the other night- I almost felt like a little kid again- like that little 10 year old that wanted to move with the music. It's sad that it takes a glass of wine and a live band to reclaim that feeling- but who cares- I felt it for a whole evening- and it was bliss. I think I understand why some artists are willing to starve for their art- it's the child-like bliss that makes it worth it. It feels like joy.
That look was on the faces of the performers- which is why it didn't feel like a performance. I felt like they were letting me in on their little world of joy- sharing it with me. I paid them for the pleasure and bought their CD to encourage them to continue on. That joy is not a given for all performers- and I just realized the obvious of how wonderful and fun it is to watch other people having the time of their lives. This is my kind of concert. So fun- thanks to Kelly and Jeff for inviting us!
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
O Victory in Jesus
Ok- so random title, but that's the song that has been in my head for the last few days- and appropriately so, because on the afternoon of my losing faith post, I had a breakthrough!
I have found a plan that makes my Grandmother take her medicine every day. For those of you who do not have any experience working with elderly who suffer from dementia- this is a huge excitement in my little world. It's been the puzzle I've been trying to solve, and finally I think I got it! Grandmother had not been taking her aricept (irony there) and so could not obviously benefit, but then I devised a plan with some tips from friends- and she remembered to take her meds every day!! So excited.
O Victory in Jesus...
That leads me to the next victory: Hunter is one year old today! This time last year I was um, well- being stitched- but basically I was holding my newborn child for the first time, listening to his cries as he was being weighed and measured- 9 lbs 6 oz and 21.5 inches. He is now about 25 lbs and over 30 inches (I don't know how tall he is!). Amazing how time goes by so fast.
Another victory along the lines of Hunter's birthday- I have nursed him this whole year! We're down to just nursing at bed time, and really it's more comfort than nutrition at this point, but both of us are a little hesitant to let it go.... or maybe it's just me. Breastfeeding is a strange emotional roller coaster- different for every woman and child (and weaning even more roller-coaster-y). I had the easiest time with it and was so blessed. Even as easy as it was (physically I didn't have any problems)- it was a definite gift from me to Hunter. I like to think of it that way now. A gift. I'm proud of myself and glad I did it. There are some people who think I'm odd for nursing this long and I guess some people who wonder why I've weaned him so soon. I think I'm finally in the place where I can say- I don't care about that. I did a good job. I am awesome. Yea me. And look at Hunter- he certainly did well. My gift is complete- soon I will nurse the last time at night, and it will be my timing and my joy.
O Victory in Jesus....
I have found a plan that makes my Grandmother take her medicine every day. For those of you who do not have any experience working with elderly who suffer from dementia- this is a huge excitement in my little world. It's been the puzzle I've been trying to solve, and finally I think I got it! Grandmother had not been taking her aricept (irony there) and so could not obviously benefit, but then I devised a plan with some tips from friends- and she remembered to take her meds every day!! So excited.
O Victory in Jesus...
That leads me to the next victory: Hunter is one year old today! This time last year I was um, well- being stitched- but basically I was holding my newborn child for the first time, listening to his cries as he was being weighed and measured- 9 lbs 6 oz and 21.5 inches. He is now about 25 lbs and over 30 inches (I don't know how tall he is!). Amazing how time goes by so fast.
Another victory along the lines of Hunter's birthday- I have nursed him this whole year! We're down to just nursing at bed time, and really it's more comfort than nutrition at this point, but both of us are a little hesitant to let it go.... or maybe it's just me. Breastfeeding is a strange emotional roller coaster- different for every woman and child (and weaning even more roller-coaster-y). I had the easiest time with it and was so blessed. Even as easy as it was (physically I didn't have any problems)- it was a definite gift from me to Hunter. I like to think of it that way now. A gift. I'm proud of myself and glad I did it. There are some people who think I'm odd for nursing this long and I guess some people who wonder why I've weaned him so soon. I think I'm finally in the place where I can say- I don't care about that. I did a good job. I am awesome. Yea me. And look at Hunter- he certainly did well. My gift is complete- soon I will nurse the last time at night, and it will be my timing and my joy.
O Victory in Jesus....
Monday, September 14, 2009
Losing Faith
Isaiah 46:4 4 Even to your old age and gray hairsI am he, I am he who will sustain you.I have made you and I will carry you;I will sustain you and I will rescue you.
It's hard to write light in dark corners- especially hard for me it seems. It feels like darkness is more powerful than light. Lately I have been witness to what I will describe as the wretchedness of us. By "us" I mean humanity- by wretchedness I think I mean simply selfishness. So many words of others come to my mind- and unfortunately so many words of defeat are swirling around like truth in my head. I feel like I am losing my faith in people to be good. I wanted to be like Anne Frank- face the devil and still come up hopeful. It seems even the little things make me sad about people. I go between compassion for their obvious grief and shroud of darkness to anger over their complete disregard for anyone other than themselves. I found myself saying - "I mean, really? Seriously? You've got to be kidding me."
I cant name all the hurts I've seen- but an example is my Memaush (grandmother). She was in an assisted living facility until last week. She is supposed to be checked on every two hours- and she has difficulty moving. Her mind is sharp and her heart is full. Last week she was neglected- to put it simply. The staff did not help her to bed or check on her at all throughout the night, even after she pulled her "help" cord repeatedly. She had to use the restroom and managed to get herself there but fell on her way back. She lay on the bathroom floor over 5 hours. The staff foud her the next morning bleeding with a huge knot in her head- she had a broken wrist, and lacerations all over her legs. She is now in a nursing/rehab place. Even now writing about this angers me to the point that my fingers are jittery. That's why this verse that my sister, Kelly blogged about gave me some comfort. The problem is that we have been entrusted with the spirit of God, we have been trusted to be the body of Christ- and I have a new understanding of blasphemy...it's not just saying some random curse word in conjunction with God's name- it is claiming to be human and good and neglecting another. What is scary is that we are all guilty of this in one way or the other... but I'd like to think I'm at least thinking about it- I'm at least trying. I'm at least open to suggestions. There are some people (and even some times) when we get so soaked in dark corners- that all we see is ourselves and our own convenience. When I think of the tiniest effort it would have been for the staff at this assisted living place that would have prevented my Memaush's immense pain, my family's immense strain and tension, I can't help but think they are clueless about other people. I just get so discouraged sometimes- the people I am fighting for- the God I am serving- they all seem to let me down. It feels like grief. It looks like enlightenment or intro to cynicism 101. I just want to have joy and do good. I want to believe this scripture, but my theology is so incarnational (God is with us, acts through us) that I really need humanity to kick it up a notch.... then of course- there is always the mirror I need to look in. Where am I unaware of my extreme selfishness? Where am I neglecting? How do I find that balance of doing things for others and yet sustaining any sense of myself.
hunter is awake from his nap- i have to stop my thinking here. I guess to sum it all up- I'm disappointed in people, which makes me a little disappointed in God's ability to work through andwith people. disenchanted- if that's a word.
It's hard to write light in dark corners- especially hard for me it seems. It feels like darkness is more powerful than light. Lately I have been witness to what I will describe as the wretchedness of us. By "us" I mean humanity- by wretchedness I think I mean simply selfishness. So many words of others come to my mind- and unfortunately so many words of defeat are swirling around like truth in my head. I feel like I am losing my faith in people to be good. I wanted to be like Anne Frank- face the devil and still come up hopeful. It seems even the little things make me sad about people. I go between compassion for their obvious grief and shroud of darkness to anger over their complete disregard for anyone other than themselves. I found myself saying - "I mean, really? Seriously? You've got to be kidding me."
I cant name all the hurts I've seen- but an example is my Memaush (grandmother). She was in an assisted living facility until last week. She is supposed to be checked on every two hours- and she has difficulty moving. Her mind is sharp and her heart is full. Last week she was neglected- to put it simply. The staff did not help her to bed or check on her at all throughout the night, even after she pulled her "help" cord repeatedly. She had to use the restroom and managed to get herself there but fell on her way back. She lay on the bathroom floor over 5 hours. The staff foud her the next morning bleeding with a huge knot in her head- she had a broken wrist, and lacerations all over her legs. She is now in a nursing/rehab place. Even now writing about this angers me to the point that my fingers are jittery. That's why this verse that my sister, Kelly blogged about gave me some comfort. The problem is that we have been entrusted with the spirit of God, we have been trusted to be the body of Christ- and I have a new understanding of blasphemy...it's not just saying some random curse word in conjunction with God's name- it is claiming to be human and good and neglecting another. What is scary is that we are all guilty of this in one way or the other... but I'd like to think I'm at least thinking about it- I'm at least trying. I'm at least open to suggestions. There are some people (and even some times) when we get so soaked in dark corners- that all we see is ourselves and our own convenience. When I think of the tiniest effort it would have been for the staff at this assisted living place that would have prevented my Memaush's immense pain, my family's immense strain and tension, I can't help but think they are clueless about other people. I just get so discouraged sometimes- the people I am fighting for- the God I am serving- they all seem to let me down. It feels like grief. It looks like enlightenment or intro to cynicism 101. I just want to have joy and do good. I want to believe this scripture, but my theology is so incarnational (God is with us, acts through us) that I really need humanity to kick it up a notch.... then of course- there is always the mirror I need to look in. Where am I unaware of my extreme selfishness? Where am I neglecting? How do I find that balance of doing things for others and yet sustaining any sense of myself.
hunter is awake from his nap- i have to stop my thinking here. I guess to sum it all up- I'm disappointed in people, which makes me a little disappointed in God's ability to work through andwith people. disenchanted- if that's a word.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
pet the dog
I need to go take a shower- but I must carve out a few minutes to do my writing therapy for the day.
We have a dog- his name is Bruno, his breed is Saint Bernard and his M.O. is annoyances. He audibly whines as loud as some dogs' barks. I recognized today that though he is often a pain- I do still love him. It still calms me to pet him. I also recognized that we could ignore him for a week straight (unfortunately in terms of playing, affection and any added attention- this has happened)- and he would still want me to be around. This is what they mean by a dog being a man's best friend- they are fiercely loyal. Bruno was shaved for the summer and his winter coat is starting to grow in. With that his cuddly-ness is starting to reappear and it's a visible sign that fall is here!
Jason and I are painting a piece of furniture (repurposing old junk for new treasures) and this morning at 6:30am- put a second coat on it (most of it). We heard children around 7ish and realized it's the first day of school! I remember when we first got Bruno and took him for walks in the morning- the children loved to pet him, and he loved the affection. I can see a bond growing between Hunter and Bruno- especially now as Hunter doesn't mind supplying Bruno with the occassional cheerios, and they both like looking out the window. My hope is that this hard transition between Bruno as baby to Bruno as dog with Baby in the house will soon be over... it has been hard for him (although with only whines to show for it) and we are finally learning how to give him the attention he needs.
All this to say- happy fall, and go pet the dog.
We have a dog- his name is Bruno, his breed is Saint Bernard and his M.O. is annoyances. He audibly whines as loud as some dogs' barks. I recognized today that though he is often a pain- I do still love him. It still calms me to pet him. I also recognized that we could ignore him for a week straight (unfortunately in terms of playing, affection and any added attention- this has happened)- and he would still want me to be around. This is what they mean by a dog being a man's best friend- they are fiercely loyal. Bruno was shaved for the summer and his winter coat is starting to grow in. With that his cuddly-ness is starting to reappear and it's a visible sign that fall is here!
Jason and I are painting a piece of furniture (repurposing old junk for new treasures) and this morning at 6:30am- put a second coat on it (most of it). We heard children around 7ish and realized it's the first day of school! I remember when we first got Bruno and took him for walks in the morning- the children loved to pet him, and he loved the affection. I can see a bond growing between Hunter and Bruno- especially now as Hunter doesn't mind supplying Bruno with the occassional cheerios, and they both like looking out the window. My hope is that this hard transition between Bruno as baby to Bruno as dog with Baby in the house will soon be over... it has been hard for him (although with only whines to show for it) and we are finally learning how to give him the attention he needs.
All this to say- happy fall, and go pet the dog.
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