Grandogs

We have been dog-sitting for Jeremy this winter while he has been ricocheting between coasts with his work. It has been an enlightening experience for these city dwelling dogs. The first-floor window view of cats, dogs, and people passing by is a fascinating pastime that begets a competitive barking game similar to the human version of Slug Bug. Being tethered in a backyard was actually quite perplexing at first. Who knew that lines could cross so easily or that bolting beyond the end of the tether’s reach would be so unforgiving? Do cats know that instinctively? At any rate, Cinder and Millie have discovered the joys of lying in the cool grass, distinguishing the barks of neighbors from those of transients, and dragging Grandma and Grandpa around the yard in search of the best potty spots. While Millie becomes one with nature and plays an intense statuesque game of cat-watching, Cinder has discovered the painful source of buzzing in the clover, where to find the best chewing sticks, and how to protectively strut across his domain to impress the birds and squirrels (because no one else is looking). What a couple of characters!

Facelift

When the kids hit home, there’s no telling what might happen. Sometimes everyone crashes and we step over and around sleeping bodies draped throughout the living room. Other times, we are roused out of sleep by major laughter and raised voices downstairs as sibling rivalry carries through a midnight game of Slap Jack, Risk, or Wii.

A couple weeks ago, in early May, the dominant spirit seemed to revolve around demolition and renovation. While Jeremy and Danielle tackled dismantling the outside deck in preparation for something new, Sarah launched an attack on the inner domain. 1970s wallpaper, and in one case a double layer of 1950s wallpaper beneath, was stripped and replaced with fresh paint. Old carpeting was hauled to the dump, belongings were sorted, given away, and organized, and renewed surfaces were covered with new area rugs and duvets. What a breath of fresh air!

Trust Me

Danielle’s friend, Ashley, began coming to the house to give Mom perms shortly after she earned her beautician’s license. After going without perms for several years because lying back in the chair or leaning too far forward made her dizzy, it was a huge treat for Mom to have it done again. Alas, however, Ashley eventually moved to Montana so it was a great surprise when she appeared at the door the other day wanting to set up a time to do Mom’s hair while she was home visiting family for the week.

Mom was on the tail end of recovering from the fluid build-up in her system that is an occasional arrhythmia complication, so her first reaction was that it would be too much effort. Taking a chance that she was actually able to weather the process, I insisted that we try so she begrudgingly let us roll her into the kitchen and start. These role-reversed decisions are becoming more frequent. Instead of her cornering me to take a bath, amid avid 8-year old protesting, it is now me pushing past her 98-year old grumping long enough to do something that I feel sure will please her in the end. And, thankfully, this time it did.

Because Ashley could not bring her perm supplies on the plane, she had gone to the trouble of purchasing new curlers, chemicals, and papers for this rendezvous. However, buying another special cape to wrap around Mom’s head and funnel the rinse water into the kitchen sink was not an option so we improvised by using a clean shower curtain of mine to fashion a substitute. The first time, it worked great, but silliness during the second rinse resulted in leaks and minor flooding on the floor. Of course, we stopped to take a picture because, by then, Mom was laughing and quite happy to overlook the drips.

I am thankful that the gamble paid off and Mom is enjoying her perm. Ashley promised to be back next Christmas to do it again, although, I suspect that Mom may not be up to it by then and the effort may too greatly outweigh the resulting pleasure. Some of her appointments are becoming too cumbersome for her now, as well. For instance, at her last annual eye exam she had to be transferred three or four times because her wheel chair didn’t get close enough to the machines. Yet only one of those tests is really necessary for maintaining her quality of life at this point. It is a hard call as to what is truly essential and when; caregivers in all walks of life need lots of prayers to help them make the right decisions at the right moments.

Seeing the Positive Side: If You Can't Laugh, It's Time to Quit

This blog was meant to help me sift through the mundane of my life in an effort to glimpse, name, and enjoy the intertwining, often hidden but miraculous nuggets of light that bring healing, enlightenment, joy, release, hope, or sustenance. Lately, however, I have been up to my armpits in a mire of sticky self-pity that threatens to suck the happiness and appreciation for life right out of me; so I’m going back to a basic litany (God bless my Catholic roots) of appreciation in order to get back on track. Please excuse the slightly ironic tone, but the humor does me good.

God bless Annie, who takes care of Mom when I have errands and whose recent two week absence was a painful reminder of the importance of back-up relief.

God bless Mom’s failing short-term memory. The repetition gets annoying, but there is a definite grace in having second and third chances to say or do something better.

God bless the unrelenting demands and furniture- and finger-endangering wild games of pets; for their antics lighten the load, their evident appreciation of us is satisfying, and their snuggling extends a blanket of peace.

God bless our veterinarian, who not only treats our pets, but is also sensitive to my state of mind as well. Who knew that his doctorate also seemed to cover detecting the acrid scent of imminent emotional implosion so that he could adroitly turn the conversation from cat lice to “How are you doing with Mom?” and really care about the answer?

God bless the stray pets who post “Easy Target” signs that point to our house as an inn that welcomes everyone; especially the cats who use our premises as a love nest when in heat.

God bless Mom, who is oblivious to the steady drag of time while she concentrates so hard on making sure that she puts deodorant on at least three times when getting ready in the morning and who increases my prayer life as I think to myself during transfers:  For the love of GOD! PLEASE… take…a...STEP!

God bless God, who sometimes gives me exactly what I want and then watches with muffled snickering while I wrestle with the idiocy of my self-inflicted predicament and relearn the concepts of humility and letting go.

God bless children who call, text, Skype, or pop in at just the right moment with their boundless, optimistic energy to turn our static, “old-farts world” upside down just long enough to get the blood flowing and then set us aright again before sailing out on the next high tide.

God bless scheming friends who talk me into midnight hot-tub dates if that’s the only time I can get away, cook shrimp for lunch rather than go out, listen without judgment, and keep me laughing, for they make me feel less alone.

God bless everyone in my household who can take care of themselves without noticeable spitting, farting, or grunting.

God bless Mom, who renews my spirit whenever she smiles or laughs.

And God bless Annie again, who is moving away in August, which will undoubtedly be followed closely by another implosion on my part.

Happy Birthday, Danielle!

Gifted

Happy Birthday Jennifer!

Everyday Life

With me hanging on to one elbow, she slowly hitches herself up the 1.5 inches onto her bathroom scales, groaning, straining, and clutching the counter in front of her as if she were balancing atop a fifty-foot flag pole. The scales are placed in front of the bathroom sink so that she can hang on to the counter to get her balance, but then it takes all Mom’s resolve to unclutch her fingers long enough for me to get the true reading of her weight. This hated ritual is necessary because an overnight two to three pound gain or a one pound gain for five consecutive days indicates renal failure. A couple weeks ago this indicator and some other symptoms cropped up just before a weekend so I put in a call to her doctor and her medicine was readjusted for a few days to drain off more fluid. This tends to irritate her kidneys, but by the third day of double the usual number of bathroom trips, Mom was better and has remained okay even after the water pill went back to the usual dosage. Here we are on that proverbial rollercoaster again. The twists and turns, highs and lows of our journey are getting more frequent and more disconcerting.

 

 

After dodging that bullet, life evened out for a few days until Mom had her annual eye appointment. Then, in one day she ping ponged between being angry with me for not telling her about the afternoon appointment until she got up that morning, feeling embarrassed once she got there because she had to take off her hat which had messed up her hair, being irritated over all the waiting between tests, tiring out from the physical struggle of several transfers from her wheel chair, and the final relief of finding out in the end that her eye health had remained stable. I think the emotional ups and downs of days like these are as draining for us as the physical challenges.

Ordinary Heroes

Ordinary days can become extraordinary when you answer the call for help. I hadn't even heard about these heroes...

Thank You

I was really moved by this video from Japan. The sincerity of the people, the simple message, and the emotion touched me deeply. It also made me reflect on my past refusals of help when I didn’t want to burden someone else or I had no way to repay them. In other words, I let my pride make the decision for me.

But Japan’s choice to accept help from other nations after the devastation by the tsunami eleven months ago empowered them to turn a tragic story into one of hope and healing; a success that now ripples out to all who were part of the aid effort. To me, this story is a reminder of the powerful gift that those who may feel utterly powerless have to give, even as they struggle.

Mom and I are involved in the daily tension of giving and receiving. At first glance, it seems like I am doing the former, she the latter, but it really doesn’t work that way. She may need me to help her stand up and totter over to the sink every morning, but I also need her to accept and apply my help to her own strength. If she refuses to receive the hand that I reach out to her, then neither of us accomplishes anything; but if she accepts by grasping it with her own, then her need gets met and she gives me the priceless gift of seeing her empowered to succeed. We both become givers and receivers; each humbled by our vulnerability to rejection, with the end result that she feels less alone and I feel part of her triumph. How easily the sin of pride could undermine this powerful exchange.

Arigato, Tohoku, for the poignant reminder.

Vacancy

“I’m feeling a little vacancy.” That’s how Aunt Blanche would sometimes, rather tongue-in-cheek, express hunger. Well, I’ve been feeling a little vacancy, too, these days, but not in my stomach. I have been staring at this blog for months, wanting to reach out with meaningful words; set down some sort of record. At first I blamed my creative deficiency on lack of time, then on lack of interesting activity; after all, one day looks pretty much like the next around here. Yet, there has been something brewing beneath the surface of my psyche that I need to say.

Perhaps the stage of care giving and receiving that Mom and I are in is to blame. Some days the feelings are too deep or too personal to set into print and on others they are too shallow and self-centered; exposing the worst of me at a time when I am trying to exercise the best. Or maybe it’s that my feelings are just too jumbled right now.

All I know is that when I go to write, I am empty.

Void.
Flat.

In fact, my conversations tend to be the same.

I have nothing to add.
Ever.

The natural inclination, of course, is to look for solutions.

Get out more.
Keep busy.
Exercise.
Find things to do together.
Grab some alone time.
But, honestly, I know all that; it’s what we’ve been trying to do. This problem is something else.

I have decided that Mom and I are both just tired right now; tired of ourselves, our complaints, and each other, and each other’s complaints…and demands. We’re trapped; me willingly, her not so much. And frankly, I don’t think there is a specific cure for what I feel right now. It just is what it is. Maybe restlessness is a natural part of this journey and the best thing I can do is acknowledge the emptiness it conjures so that it doesn’t become overwhelming and then continue on with as much tenacity as I can muster. So with this post, here I am, moving forward again with renewed resolve.

Happy Birthday Fearless Leader

Motivation

Family Photo Shoot

You never know for sure what you're going to get when our family lines up for a photo shoot. This year was momentous because we were all together in the same room, around the same Christmas tree on the real night of Christmas Eve...and we even had a few extra brave souls with us! On Christmas Day we lazed around, but Monday morning, before Jen, Bin, and his folks headed off to the airport, Jeremy set up lights and camera to digitally memorialize the occasion. He got some great shots, but, as you can see, there was also plenty of shenanigans in between; from Mom being carried in her chair to a Charlie's Angels shootout. Let's be honest. The unscripted nonsense is what makes photo shoots bearable and it's also what characterizes our brood.