Regarding a euphemism for living with AD, for me it is a cross between The Twilight Zone and The Outer Limits. Sometimes there are moving, bittersweet moments, sometimes it's like living in a strange science fiction world.

Sometimes it is like "Goundhog Day", the same thing day in, day out: The home attendant gets mom up, fixes her up, feeds her breakfast, and mom watches Animal Planet until my stepfather gets up.

He complains about his physical pain from spinal stenosis, his incredibly upset stomach and diarrhea and vomiting because he has kidney failure. I check his glucose, administer insulin, dress his wound, and he goes down stairs, eats breakfast, and watches Spanish t.v.

If it's a work day, I go to work and get home in time to put them to bed. I go to bed. And it begins all over again, the exact same way.

The complications come when his health "acts up" as it is doing now. But he is non-compliant and all I can do is suggest, but he won't comply.

And I sit and wait for him to die. But he doesn't.

I am flat, listless, lethargic. I've been on every med there is for depression. They don't help me. They only make me a zombie. Then I feel even worse. I wonder, when I'm on meds, if I'm even human. Rather not be on them. Then at least I can cry. And sometimes even laugh.

For the first time in five years, I was able to go visit a sister in Pennsylvania while another sister stayed here with them. Hurrah for her agreeing. While in PA, my sister and her hubby pampered me, gave me great food. It was peaceful for the most part, except when they did their supposedly harmless word sparring--but it shot my nerves. I don't have the stomach for little word games that actually hurt. But it passed.

The best part was getting in their bathtub with lavender oil. The tub is a jacuzzi-type tub, super-deep, with jets. I read and relaxed and ended up moving in slow motion--very Twilight Zone, but in a good way--from how relaxed I was. It helped my aches and pains, and my COPD.

A few hours before I had to leave, I burst into tears because I did not want to return to my stepfather. Returning to mom with AD is fine. It's him I loathe. And pity.

So I'm back again in the same old routine. And all the suggestions in the world won't help because I am apathetic. I don't want to go for a walk in the park across the street. I don't want to knit a baby blanket for my mom's baby doll. I don't want to do laundry.

Strange, though, in the midst of all this, I am glad to be alive, and appreciate the beauty of our wild garden, appreciate that I have five sisters and a brother, 15 going on 20 nieces and nephews, and 5 of their kids, although I only see one sister relatively regularly, and one nephew.

This sister has joined a gym and can bring unlimited guests. So Sunday I will go with her. I have to tell you I HATE to exercise. Always have. Yet I will do it, grudgingly, because it is the right thing to do, especially for my osteoporosis. Weight-bearing exercises will strength my bones. I refuse to take Fosamax or any of those bone meds.

I live marking time. Waiting for the next shoe to drop. But since I'm in The Twilight Zone, the shoe is falling in slooow motion. Meanwhile, I will do the laundry. I will visit friends when they're available. I will read. I always read.

And I will wait. And wait.

Thank you for your musing. The Twilght Zone is my favortie euphemism, so far.

I was so glad to see your posting today, and more glad to know you could get away for a while.

You are probably taking calcium plus vitamin D; if not, the doctors are saying 800-1000 mg. vitamin D does more than make the calcium absorption successful. Had a ob-gyn who didn't tell me about the D; said take Tums. I'm not seeing him any more.

Saribet, if I lived close I would offer you Reiki treatments. Nothing for you to do, and you get to lie down for an hour or more while I provide the treatment. The best part is God, the Universe, works for your highest good... and who knows better what that is for a person. Check out Reiki on the Internet. I was trained by a Reiki Master at my last hospice position.

Praying for your peace.

Thanx Val-Re. No violins need be played but I live in abject poverty, so Reiki is out of the question. If I could afford it, girlfriend, I'd have yoga, spas, Reiki, deep tissue massage, and meditation classes. I always need classes to discipline me. Alone, well, it's hard to get motivated. Inertia.

But all is not lost. My life reads worse than it is.

Know about the C and D. Plus eating better, i.e., eating the right things. My body loves it; it "eats it up" as the saying goes.

Peace to you and yours as well.

Where do you live, by the way? It's not in your personal profile.

Ohio.
The Reiki would be a gift from me... if only I were close. If if if.. right? It can be done at at distance, but only with a person' permission.

I find it hard to imagine me actually doing all you do. I think I do better with one impossible situation at a time.

"No, God, that isn't Your cue to send another."

If I had money, I would send you A New Earth, by Ekhart Tolle. It helped me feel freer than I was about my current life circumstance. Not a cure for depression, but a bigger way of looking at everything. "Bigger" isn't the right word. "Whole" is more descriptive.

Wishing you a weekend of simple problems, and peace.

Thank you, Val-Re. I'll look for the book in the library. You mentioned it a couple of weeks back in another thread and I wrote it down. I take book recommendations all the time.

I see the world holistically. It's just that I am trapped in my brain, in my heart, the way AD people, whole people, are trapped in their disease.

My life is not impossible. My stepfather is, however. That's my cross to bear. And I do it all for my mother's sake. Only for that.

If she ever goes first, I'm done with him. I'm having his children take him, any one of them, or I'm placing him.

At the rate things are going, however, he just might go first. We'll see.

My favorite book is The Miracle of Mindfulness by Thich Nhat Hanh. I read it over and over again. It's what saves me.

I don't do that much. I'm an excellent coordinator so the things that need to be done are done by others--except when they are not around. And right now, emergencies are few and far between.

Your wish has come through, so far. My biggest problem is packing up my laundry to have it done at the 24 hour laundromat. Don't dare do it here in my parents' washer because I don't want the machine to break on my watch. It's over 20 years old! Let it break when the home attendants are using it, and then my stepfather will have to buy a new one, or have them take the laundry to be done at the laundromat themselves.

I wish you peace.

Saribet,
Thank you for sharing your favorite book. I'll try to find it. My computer is having problems, so I might be at the library soon and more often to use the computers there.

Our weekend is smooth so far. Went to lunch down the street, with no incidents.

Regarding your mention of Twilight Zone and Outer Limits as euphemisms for life with Alz.. All of the two shows provided something to think about, but as life goes on the subject changes. If I remember right, personal choice was a theme in most, if not all. I remember a T.Z. with a king from another planet who chose to heal a young girl's leg even though it meant something he didn't want for his own life. Sounds like caregivers of people with Alz., who give so much of themselves for people they care about. We don't heal our LOs, but we give them safety, security, as much normalcy as we can manage, as many memories of our own as we can, and love.

Only God loves everyone, Saribet. The kids have responsibilities; I hope they live up to them soon.

Money... what's money?

See you at Jeanne and Lionel's tonight.
Peace.

1. Who are Jeanne and Lionel?

2. Yup, the Twilight Zone had great lessons to teach. I took them to heart, every last one of them. That's why I am where I am. I still watch the T.W. marathons. Still love 'em!

3. Hope you enjoy the book, if and when you find it. It's small, and cheap. And incredibly valuable. He (Hanh) knows about living IN the pain, not running away from it to reach nirvana.

Thank you for cyber-conversing with me. It feels as if you're in my room with me.

Jeanne Pargeter and Lionel Hardcastle. You made the reference to "As Time Goes By" in a previous post... where are you fellow musers, maybe. I need light-hearted, sometimes silly, too. And lots of love.
The program is on now. I had forgotten the current story line is before they got back together. Before we met Lionel's marvelous father, Rocky.

If I ever get Alz., maybe every segment will seem new. Maybe my sons will give me copies of the shows. I pray there is a cure, a vaccine or what ever... for all of us.

Here's to whirled peas.

It is NOT easy to make me laugh but you and Ruthie-Ray have "it", the capacity to make me laugh out loud.

As you know, I am suffering a wise kind of depression. (Huh?) I mean, oh I don't know what I mean. I don't like mentioning that I am depressed because of course I will be told to see a therapist, get some meds.

I don't know what I need, but I know I don't want any more meds (they turned me into a zombie without any emotions whatsoever to the point where I did not cry, and did not laugh--at all) and I don't need a therapist. I know who/what I am and there is no "cure" for biological temperament, i.e., no changing who you are. Does this make sense to you?

Yes, I remember mentioning "As Time Goes By" and I watched last night. It won't be on again until Aug. 9 because of some PBS special.

I've always had trouble with "understanding" or "recognizing" names. Kinda like a name-dementia. I only seem to remember names if they are unusual. But if your name is Mary, good luck expecting me to call you by name (lol).

Actually, regarding the show, in the episode I saw last night, they are already married and considering going to Rocky's on weekends as Rocky and his wife are going to Inner and Outer Mongolia (kinda where we all live, right?)

I am very upset with myself. I have always, always hated exercising. Yet I told my sister I'd go with her to the gym. Now I'm nearly having an anxiety attack at the prospect. Silly me. Sometimes, just because I can "imagine" it, I think I can "do" it. That comes from all those years of being told to do "something" imagery. That if you imagine it, it will come out well: imagine the interview; imagine meeting the love of your life; imagine climbing a mountain. You get the picture.

Anyway, always a pleasure communing with you. You are very special to me.

So glad to visit with you again today!
The "As Time Goes By" show we had was when he Alistair (money, cute, but thinks too much of himself) was still going after Jean, and Jean's daughter Judy (sweet with dimples) was interested in Lionel. Near the end Jean and Lionel were kissing. I love Rocky's wife Madge.. cowboy boots and hat and an old pink cadillac with Texas longhorns. If reincarnation were God's plan, I might like to come back as either Madge or as a Mrs. Bail type... making great cocktails and keeping everyone on time. I don't do either now.

At a field placement as an undergrad, in a nursing home, the social worker led a guided imagery event for the residents, most of whom had med. range dementia. I had to take part. I fell asleep. The residents loved that! I must have snored. At least I was entertaining! Had some better outcomes later at the time of my first hospice position. They didn't have anything to do with the job. Loved them; they were so affirming. None since 2000.

Sounds like the survivor in you spoke up and told your sister yes to exercising! A head thump might help the next time, or a rubber band around your wrist!! I'm with you and Oprah... I hate "exercising, too." The routine stuff. I like dancing better. If you saw me dance... you would remember me even if my name WAS Mary! I saw part of an informercial today with dancing for exercise, and it looked great, but it cost too much for me. Alas.
I can tell you've heard all the benefits of exercise, like good for the chemicals that work against depression. Maybe when they "give" the person the Dx of dementia, they slip the C/G a matching coupon for depression to be cashed in at the "appropriate" time. I had a client once who had depression you could see on her face, nearly flat affect. She was so highly functional, but with no joy. Yet, as a person, her beauty still came through.

I hope that you will share any self-care resources that have worked for you. Right now I try, computer willing, to go to the WACCO thread and the quotes and humorous things thread at the end of each sign on to this site.

Wishing you a wonderful week... only you are the judge of what that means. (Maybe Mr. Grumpy will be touched by an angel, or laryngitis.)

Love and peace to you and your mom.

Saribet,
I hope you will understand that I used the term "Mr. Grumpy" as a euphemism for this person I don't know and not to down play what you have to deal with on a daily basis. I wish his "children" would take over so you could have a better time with your mom. Do they ever come in and spend time with him?

Small problems, great sleep, all sizes of joy!

Dear Val: My feelings never get hurt when people say things like Mr. Grumpy. They only get hurt when it's implied my suggestions are, well, not the greatest--and they usually are just my point of view. So I "ignore" them.

But he is a Mr. Grumpy. That's actually quite a kind nick name for him. I usually call him The Bastard.

Well, he WAS touched by an angel--me. I told him he is not going to die any time soon, that he has 5 to 10 years more to go, that he is strong as an ox in spite of his heart, his diabetes, his cellulitis, failing kidneys, etc. Told him his doctor is an alarmist and that's what doctors do. To take his time making his decision.

Well, he was fine, very friendly towards me, reminding me to take left-overs to work. (I work from 10:30 to 6:45 so need to do that to save $.) Go figure.

His children have nearly disowned him. They hate him for what he has put them through, and for how he is. He is a really nasty guy. Only one sister comes by often. They don't come to spend time with him, or their mother whom they love dearly. I've tried everything under the sun to get them to come, but nothing works any more. Go figure.

However, if he goes to the vascular surgeon to discuss the insertion of a tube for future dialysis, one of his daughters in Penna. will take him. Go figure.

More some other time. Nice "seeing" you again.

Aha... a do-it-yourself angel !!! Now why didn't I think of that? The most important piece in that
d-y-i "kit" is a heart that won't be daunted by pain and cruelty.

Thank you for what you said about offering suggestions that people don't appreciate. It remended me of Rod Serling... "we offer (this) for your consideration..."
Why don't more people hear it that way? Info, or suggestions, are meant for consideration and alteration to fit some other person's situation or for not using at all, but not for criticism or put downs. How does that person know that, somewhere down the road, it will not be the missing piece for them or someone else?

Wishing you what ever your heart desires. And peace, always peace.

Do you have a favorite season?

Hi, Val: My favorite is autumn. Yours?

You're really so cute, your brain, I mean. Calling me a do-it-yourself angel.

You really understood what I meant about submitting comments for their "consideration" and getting the odd reply. But it's okay.

I can't be "daunted by pain and cruelty" because pain and cruelty have been in my life for a long time and the only way to ease or erase or defuse it is with intelligence and tenacity--and a big dose of empathy. That, the last, is the ticket for me.

I find it all too easy to empathize. You know I live in NYC. You know I see a great deal of homeless on the streets and begging on the train. EVERY-SINGLE-TIME my heart breaks. Period. I AM them.

My therapist made me feel awful by being that way, telling me I had to "find a way" not to feel for them. I knew with great certainty she was wrong. Out and out wrong.

I believe empathy can save the world. I just need to convince every one of the billions on the planet, one entity at a time.

But I know I don't have to convince you!

My best. Good night.

Hello,
Mine is autumn also. I start getting excited about now. People say they like it, for me it's more like a beautiful symphony I can feel in my heart. And I have had enough of summer already. In California I had to drive to find anything remotely close to autumn in Ohio. There was one type of tree that resembled maples in Ohio, but they had to be brought in and they had strange spikey balls on long stems, hundreds of them. Years ago I lived in New Jersey for bit less than a year, and we drove through PA. in the fall. Breathtaking and speechless, and that is a WIDE state not to talk or breathe!

Hope it's O.K. if I never want to be on a desert island with your therapist. Not that I don't think she or he has a heart, but I'm overweight and I think she or he would look at me and see lunch, and dinner, and breakfast... for a while. She or he would think I was easier to catch than fish!

I worked in hospice, so I know that professional distance is necessary, so every one in the room isn't crying all at once, and no one can help. But they could tell I cared, and sometimes that meant that words didn't come. I had to be able to let them feel what they needed to feel. It doesn't mean I didn't care. I just had friends with whom I could express those feelings, mostly people also working in hospice. Friends who know are in my kit for burn-out resistance. I never got "used to" the homelessness in southern CA.. We are all the same inside. Only where we go at night is different. And being warm most nights didn't mean life was easy for them at all. I could never understand how people in towns further north could live through the coldness of the weather, or of the people, anywhere. I had a grad school internship where there were also psych students interning. One beautiful young woman, in that program, was from NYC. She carried fruit with her for the homeless people; she said she did that in NYC also.

A heart that doesn't run from trouble, be it Alz. or an impossible relative you never asked for, is a heart that can change the world. It already is. Your therapist needs a metaphorical thump on her head if she cannot see that she has met someone she needs to know.

Peace and a refreshing night's sleep for you and your mom, for Mr. Grumpy, too. Maybe it will sweeten his disposition. Yes, I'm a dreamer, too.

Hi Dreamer:

You sound so kind.

My ex-therapist was something else. When I first saw her, and thought I had a drinking problem, she announced she was an expert on alcoholism. Year and years later, when I called her after 9/11 because I was suffering from PTSD, she said she was an expert in PTSD. She was always touting her expertise, but when I think back on the years I saw her (15) I don't feel she helped me.

I'm still suffering with the same emotional difficulties I had then, and do not have a "kit" to help me cope. I think I must have been given one but I think I left it on the train somewhere.

I do not know how to talk myself out of pain.

The person closest to my heart, my cousin, was overweight. I loved her dearly. She was almost as difficult as my stepfather. We were like sisters, one year apart, both "oddballs" in our culture (intelligent, well-read, artistic--how could that be? [read sarcasm] in Puerto Rican women?) She died suddenly three years ago, at the age of 55. Just a little while ago, I realized tomorrow is the first day of August and I got desperately anxious. Then I remembered she died Aug. 23, and I started to cry. Ay, life.

My favorite season used to be summer. I was always very skinny, and the heat made me thrive. But after I turned 50, autumn became my favorite. But it's not just the temperature; it's the spectacular beauty of it. I always loved its majesty, just had trouble with the waning heat. Now I can love it for all its beauty and poignant drama.

Confession: I have lost my self-esteem. I'm considering seeing a volunteer social worker or counselor at a place I know to see if I can cobble together a "self-care kit". I am in quiet trouble, and don't have burn-out resistance friends to rely on.

Nevertheless, I'm still kind of okay.

More later.

Thanx, and, oh, I have seen a tree with those spikey balls on long stems here in NYC. But they can't possibly be the same, because these live out there in nature, even in the blasting cold of winter.

See ya.

Saribet,

Intelligent, well-read,artistic... and a Puerto Rican woman... Oh, so you are all those things... and beautiful, too. AND you were "nice" to your step-father.

I know that a list of those wonderful, and most likely true, attributes taped to your bedroom mirror will not change the depression you feel. If only life were that simple. I've only just "met" you, but I think I may be able to safely say you personally have debunked the idea that life is simple.

I hope that the person you talk to about a "survivor self-care kit" will not dismiss your own efforts as not having tried hard enough. I have met people in therapeutic roles who would not accept that some of their suggestions were riddled with holes. After all, they were the professionals being asked for help.

I will pray that you are connected with the person who can best meet your needs.

Oh, one of my favorite people in the world is a highly intelligent, beautiful lady from Cuba, now a proud U.S. citizen. Having lived in So. Cal. for years, I have gone to school with and worked with people from many places and with many lovely accents. I count that as one of the greatest blessings I have been given. (I myself have pale pinky beigey skin tone which doesn't go with a darned thing!!!) Some of my favorite accents are Puerto Rican-NYC (clients and the friend of a friend), Cuban, NYC rabbi, Turkish, French, Spanish, Bostonian, and of course, Southern USA...really any other than my own. I grew up on a farm, not a farm girl though, and in a pale- homogeneous community. When I moved away, I felt more at home.

Oh, I am encountering more evidence that my LO with ALZ. is likely going to be more grouchy person as time goes on. I keep reading the posts of people who are already dealing with this; they are surviving so I am taking heart that I will, too. I hate the prospect of violence, though. That might be my breaking point.

Rambled enough for one night. And my computer needs CPR (computer probing and re-working.)

One day closer to the palpable beauty of autumn.

Peace. Namaste.

Saribet,
I should be "honest". My own past is a bucket of worms with a few rotten eggs hidden in the middle. But we get what we are given. As they say a lot on this site, it is what it is.

Saribet,
My last post was cut short by the site process... Divine editing probably, so I'm not going to add back what was cut off.
I did want to add that I googled an image search for' autumn leaf photographs ' and there were over 300K results. Just in case I needed to get away for a while. A search for ' autumn foliage photographs ' works also.

Namaste

Good Morning, Val-Re:

How is your computer?

Your list of favorite accents made me chuckle. They are all great on the ear.

Don't imagine me a burnished Latina. I am ivory-skinned, look more Spanish than Indian. But my family, maternal and paternal, comes in all colors. It's the mix of Taino, African, and European Imperialists.

Well, the free counseling program couldn't help me. I'm not old enough. It's for people 60 and over, and I'm 58. I have to wait two years to handle the mini-crisis I'm in now. It's actually funny! No "self-care kit" for me from the outside.

But I'm okay. I am trying to put together a kit from the inside. I had a mini-revelation that, if I keep remembering it, might just help me. I found that I sometimes act "ornery" or "irritable" because I, with a capital "i", don't think I'm worthy. Then the natural reaction by others to my orneriness and irritability is to steer clear of me. And then I complain that people don't want to be with me. Shoot! I wouldn't want to be with me, either!

I realized I don't HAVE to "act out" because of the difficulties in my life. Depression keeps you humble, but all too often it also keeps you selfish.

My sister, who moved back in temporarily, took my mother, stepfather, and the home attendant on a day trip to Pennsylvania so I have the house to myself. It is so peaceful. It's a cloudy, rainy-ish day (hasn't yet begun to rain) and I love-love-love cloudy days and rainy days. (I always think I should live in Washington state, just for the weather.)

"Bucket of worms with a few rotten eggs hidden in the middle": Sounds scary. I understand your not wanting to put it on a public forum. If I ever told my tale "honestly", well, I don't know what would happen. Perhaps the worst would be I'd be down on me. What's done is done. The good cancels out the bad.

Autumn leaf fotos: great idea when one needs a fix of fall.

Mr. Grumpy is still in a good mood, and I believe it is because his daughter moved back in (he misses his children) and because she has a car so he can coerce her to take him out to eat, without Mom. He needs a break from his silent, depleted wife with stage 6 AD.

Poor Mom. When he goes out, all she says is, "Papa? Papa?"

Peace. Write when you can, my comrade-in-arms.

Saribet,
Well, my description of the bucket might have come after watching the foods available to people travelling to China for the Olympics... bugs on sticks, scorpions on sticks, things common to people who live there and "Fear Factor-ish" to those who don't. But a lot of "not good" can get a person down, and trying to describe it in playful words was difficult. I think I'm trying to apologize for not thinking about the effect it might have had on you if you were having brunch while reading it!

Hooray for you and your Saturday freedom! And you didn't even have to pay for the day off. What a great sister!

I have been thinking about what has done me the most good of what I have read. I hope you won't think the following story is silly, gooey, or other wise off-putting.
When I was working at my first hospice, I asked God for more resources for my clients because although I didn't think I was doing a terrible job, I knew there was more they could use. Well, the next time I went by my favorite sidewalk bookseller my eyes were drawn to a red book with a coffee cup on the cover. It was a book titled Kitchen Table Wisdom, by Rachael Naomi Remen. The author is a trained pediatrician who now counsels chronically ill and terminally ill people. The title comes from the stories she said people used to tell around the kitchen table which she said they all learned from while growing up. There were three copies for $5 and I took them all. God had it there for me as much as to benefit my clients. I used what I learned with them, and I still learn now from it myself, even though I first bought it 10 years ago. The stories are short. They come from her experiences with her family, her patients, the doctors she's worked with, her own transition into counseling from the "harder" science of medicine. It has meant so much to me. It might be in the library. I did buy all the copies I found that day because I felt compelled to do so, but I have purchased many more since then as gifts. I confess I don't read it all the time, but I do turn to it when I am reminded to do so by the tap on my shoulder.
I do not think that books have to be meant to be inspiring, because I have been inspired by the least likely things like comic strips, horoscopes, things I see, and heaven help me, even commercials. I guess God can use anything at all.

I hope you are having the best Saturday ever. I think your sister must love you and your mom very, very much. (I wish I had a sibling like that. I have a very far down the continuum narcissicist. I wish there was a "laying on of hands" for that!)

Bye for now. Thank you for calling this thread Rambling Musings. No explanation necessary.

Peace.
Namaste.

Dear Val-Re:

I heard about Kitchen Table Wisdom a while back but never read it. Maybe I will, now that it comes recommended.

Yes, I, too, get inspired by just about anything. The last was from a sci-fi episode!

No apology needed. I have a cast iron stomach, so I am no squeamish. You're funny, though. I know what you mean about what others around the world eat that seem so gross to us. There are things I've eaten that would turn your stomach.

I am glad my little sister (she's 46) just moved in, even though it's temporary. She's the person with whom I most go out. Last time she took me to Applebee's where we had the best chicken fried chicken. And I'm a restaurant snob. But it was excellent. The time before that, she took me to see "Hancock", the Will Smith movie. Not what I would have chosen, but she was paying, and I'm easy. I enjoyed almost all of it.

I'm sorry your sib is a narcissist. (That's what Mr. Grumpy is!) But I hope your "sisters" and "brothers" here compensate a little for that. I don't think even God knows what to do with narcissists.

Having a very restful, peaceful day. Hope you are, too.

There is no such thing as silly, or gooey, or schmaltzy or . . .

See you later.

Saribet,
Dreamer here. Right now I am dreaming I get my computer to a large town on Wed., as it did not work out this a.m. between clients. Trip is one hour each way.
I am at a library in my town and on the short time computer... 15 minutes to do all I need to do today!

Good luck to you this week with your loved ones!

Peaceful sleep. Small problems.
Joy in all sizes.

Your friend.

My computer was down, or on vacation, for a while. Wish it had been me instead.

Time away from this site made it even clearer how much these message boards have added to my life. I'm so grateful for the information and support the "groupees" share, and life is duller without the weird sense of humor thread.

My LO with ALz. says I am the only one who thinks he has Alz.. Not true, but he is unable to be aware of his illness, so I am the one with the "problem", not him. And so I haven't told a lot of people. Only a few relatives, my employer, and a few dear friends. Strangers who don't know him might not guess. He repeats the last sentence I say sometimes as if it was his own thought, and I imagine he might be starting to do that to others. This last week I left him a note telling him where I was going. I included the date, day and time I was leaving, what I was going to do, and that I would be home "in a bit." Half an hour later when he saw me sitting in the kitchen, he asked me how a certain person was. That person was my cousin, who lives in Idaho, and she is not visiting her mother only 30 minutes from our home. His reading comprehension didn't let him understand the short note, and he mistook the name of a store for my cousin's name, didn't reason through that I couldn't have gone for a visit in only one half hour. Also he saw his sister less than a week ago, and she did not tell us that her daughter was coming or a visit. He looked at the note a long time and still didn't see what it really said.

Saribet, if you read this, I missed reading your musing during the time my computer was on holiday. (Or in ICU, whereever.) I hope you are well.
To each...
Peace. Namaste. And as much joy as you can stand.

Another ramble, hopefully restorative.

Ever hope for something other than the AD to deal with in a day? Foolish me, I have; and I didn't specify the category of "something different" that I wished for.

What I was given was a relative who called and said I want to talk to you now, can we come over right now? Silly me said yes. And to be honest, I knew it was probably important and maybe needed.
Well, nearly three hours later and a lot of ground covered, they left. How did it differ from dealing with AD? Well, there was what resembled an end, meaning a resolution at least as far as we could get right now. I had a headache, my laundry for the next day was started late, so my Monday is already late, and it's only 11:04 Sunday evening. But wait, being late for Monday on Sunday night is a little familiar, something like an AD Sunday.

I had been missing conversations with my LO, the kind that go one for more than three sentences and are an actual discusssion. I envision a conversation that is stimulating, where I learn something, go away with something to think about. The conversation tonight was the "we have to talk" type. At least the hard part was focused on someone other than me.

One of the relatives said to me, you just don't know how hard it is every day for us in regard to what they were explaining. Tonight I told her my LO has Alz. She asked if a doctor diagnosed it. I felt a slight twinge, but realized that "that slight twinge" was my problem, not hers. I told her two doctors did. But I do wish she had said something like, "I didn't know; that must be hard for you." Maybe later after it sinks in. Maybe.

I need to talk to people more often and about something other than Alz.. Saw a beloved relative Sat., and too much Alz. creeped in. some was good, but not as much as there was.

I will be more careful what I wish for, and pray more than wish.

To anyone who read this...thank you.

Ramble completed.

Peace. Joy.
Namaste.

Greetings: It seems people never quite believe the AD diagnosis at first. Would a person ask, "Did a doctor diagnose that?" about cancer, or TB, or some other disease? Yeah, why is it that with AD, they ask that? I imagine they think we are making much ado about nothing. And perhaps they don't know what AD is beyond "losing your memory", although we know it is much more than that. So if someone is losing memory, why should it be AD?

There was a time when all I could do was talk about AD. Needless to say, most people didn't know how to respond. Sometimes I found a person who has a grandmother/husband/wife/mother or whomever with the disease. Most often, however, they just stared, not knowing what to say. Eventually, I got, "You're an angel. God will reward you."

Now I don't need to talk about it any more. I have gotten so much out of this forum, it is enough for me to talk about it here. And usually, what I want is advice or suggestions. I don't have the "why me?" gene.

I, too, need to talk about things not AD. I get to do that once in a while with a smattering of friends and one of my sisters who is living here temporarily.

Something rewarding happened a few weeks back. The documentary "The Forgetting" and another one about AD (I forget the title) were on PBS. The next day, one of my co-workers said she saw "The Forgetting" and all she could think of was my situation, that now she understood what my life is like at home.

I felt so validated, and understood. We did not need to talk about it. I realized I wish more people I know would see these documentaries. Then they would understand. And that's all I ever wanted, to be understood.

I assume you're talking about "be careful what you wish for." I am a little ashamed to say it, just because everyone seems to think it is a bad thing to want, but I wish for loads of money.

I need a new bed. I sleep on an inflated Aerobed. It has a leak, and every morning I wake up with the bed wrapped around me. My back and right shoulder are killing me. I will solve this problem, eventually. Actually, I think it's a funny problem, amusing. I'll borrow money and get a real bed once and for all.

I need a new audio/video monitor for my parents' bedroom. (I had to get it because my stepfather had fallen out of bed with a TIA. He'd been on the floor for about a half hour, yelling muffled, couldn't talk, and none of us heard him.) The one I got a few months ago has broken. Someone dropped the transformer. Friends are checking to see if they have compatible ones somewhere. I hope-hope-hope. The damn thing cost over $170!

Yeah, I wish for money. Been looking on Craigslist for a job. No luck yet.

Planning with a friend to go to South Street Seaport to have fun, and view the Waterfall under the Brooklyn Bridge. But have to wait for the temperature to go down.

Enough rambling musing for now. It's 10:40 a.m. and I haven't had breakfast. Starving!

Peace out.

Saribet,
This is the third time I've tried this today. 1st: site or computer screw-up. 2nd : power outage of 4 hr.tonight. I'm putting "design foot treadle generator" on my to-do list, pg. 51, index the entry.

It was so good to read your entry. You give me things to think about. Thank you.

I know a very tall fellow who has an inflatable bed. He says it helps his back problem. He also has a problem with leaking air. I picture him looking like a hotdog, with the bed as the bun. I thought about buying him red or yellow p.j.s or making him a pair out of a small allover green geometric print. Spose he would relish that" (Right, no additional income from stand-up.)
Today I cried like the rain we has about a week ago. Very hard, for 4 or 5 minutes,I think it was a pressure release for me. Came after reading some of the serious postings from the Caregiver Forum. I was so tired after I cried. I probably looked like an inflatable bed with a really bad leak. I tried to visualize the crane and heron one of the contributors wrote about for her one good thing. They sounded so real, grounded and peaceful.

I'm glad you mentioned the audio/video monitor. I want a camera or two also so when I'm not here I can review what LO has done during that time. I know some new changes show when no one is around. I'm the only one here. And after I have to stop working, I'll want to know how the hired person does when I have to go on errands or a sanity preservation mission. A person gave info cameras on another thread.

I wish for money, too. I have 2 wonderful children, a few good friends, a lot of books, and a perfect Father... God. I am rich beyond reason. Yet, my car needs tires before the autumn rains begin. Last year at Christmas I was fortunate in that I received a gift certificate for a department store, and so I could give my great nieces and nephews gifts. No gift giving holiday in August. Just as well.

I did find $20 last week. I cut my hair and avoided paying someone. Now I know that didn't help the overall economy. But I used the money to buy 2 malaria nets through the U.N. NothingButNets program. A haircut means less to me than knowing that two families might not have children die because of the lack of a treated net. So far no one has laughed at my hair, and no one ran away screaming. And if they did, so what. Laughing and running are good for their health.

My LO went fishing today with friends. Caught an edible fish. You should have seen his smile. A real cheshire cat grin!

Today I read a quote from Viktor Frankl, a Nazi Prison camp survior. "He who has a "why" can live with any "what" or any "how".

Peace.
Namaste.

Hey, Val, again you made me laugh out loud. I think you do have the chance of making big bucks in stand-up comedy. You especially made me laugh when you said that, when you were crying, you must've looked like "an inflatable bed with a really bad leak." I remember you said you're a little overweight, so I "got" you, got your self-deprecating joke. But it was funny nevertheless.

I cut my own hair, too, using those barber clippers. I've always had the "gift" of haircutting, and it works on me as well. A little like Jamie Lee Curtis' but wavy. The clipper has attachments so I don't end up looking like Viktor Frankl while in the Concentration Camp. (I've read a lot of his works, by the way. I thrive on the wisdom of the dying, or of the almost-died.)

The posting about nightmare facilities costing people $10K and $12K a month, and their LOs being treated neglectfully, freaked me out! I didn't cry, not this time. But frequently what I read in the "Caregiver's Forum" makes me cry.

I promised myself (and my mother but she does not remember) that I will never place her. I know: never say never. But she has aphasia on top of it all. She can't scream and cry and complain! So long as I can have the 12-hour home attendants for her and my stepfather, I will keep her here, even if it means I don't have a life.

It's easy for me to say. I don't have a lover, or any children. I am poor, so don't get out much. So in essence I don't have a "life" to speak of. (The visit to South Street Seaport is postponed until next week.)

The audio/video monitor I have is listen-and-view only. It does not tape. It doesn't do anything now. I don't yet need a nanny-cam, but will beg, borrow, and steal if I get an inkling something is amiss with the attendants. So far, they are GREAT. My mom doesn't like one of them because she is too attentive. Better that than abusive or not attentive enough.

I'm always full of wonder when ADLOs can go out and DO things, like fishing, or whatever. I wish Mom could do something to make herself happy besides tearing paper towels.

I finally saw the documentary "There is a Bridge" yesterday and, boy, did I cry! What made me cry the most was seeing ADs TALK! I guess that's a big issue for me because Mom CAN'T talk. I loved it when she could, even though she said disconnected strings of sentences. Although the statements were disconnected, we were not. Now we are, especially since my stepfather does not want me to attend to her. He gets furious, and starts to quarrel, and there is NO reasoning with him. (He has VasD.) Sigh.

That's all folks!

Saribet:
Not really a ramble, but a fun in a twisted sort of way. I can say that because I have "one" myself. The Caregiver's Forum> "My brother is an idiot...anyone else?" I wish I had seen it yesterday, but I guess I needed the "rain."

Ramble later.

Namaste. Peace.

Such a strange day. But not in cataclysmic ways. More like a children's roller coaster. Little ups and downs, with curious sense that I might break into tears at any time. You know, that sinking feeling of sadness, followed by an "up" moment when the client with AD noticed something nice and smiled, said for the fifth time what a pretty day it was. Then around a corner of nothing special one way or another. Then down again and the tears felt so close to falling.

Thank goodness for WACCOs and inspirational thought and quotes, and my little book by Piero Ferruci, The Power of Kindness. It's not a "cute" book, but rather an ezamination of qualities related to the practice of kindness. Also I reread a short story by Rachael Remen which is in both Kitchen Table Wisdom and another of her books about Channuka and the menorah's deeper meaning. That story reminded me of Alz. Her grandfather told her that all societies have stories of darkness and light. I see Alz. as another of those stories, with our LOs going through an increasingly dark time before being released into an eternal light. We caregivers might not feel like it often but I think we are the lights along the way for them. I think their souls are nurtured by our love and care even of their physical brains are shutting down.

Saribet, I hope to see that waterfall under the Brooklyn Bridge someday. Is it situated so that you sometimes get to see a rainbow? I like to watch movies and shows set in NYC. Of course, Law and order, the original, doesn't often showcase the more beautiful parts.

Much joy to all who read these rambling musings.
Namaste.

Saribet,
I owe you an apology for not speaking to your mom's aphasia after you shared this heartache. I was struck with sadness that you are unable to have conversations with her, to hear the voice of this person you love so much. I didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry", while from the heart, wasn't enough.

I only have to live with ADLO repetition of my own thoughts, and that is occasionally for now. I have to repeat many things two or three times many times a day, but eventually he gets it at least at some level. And I think we actually understand each other sometimes. On top of the daily things occurring ever more often and on AD schedule, we are of different political parties. He always votes one party, and everything that party does and "says" is, if not holy, pretty darn close. I usually vote for the other, but not always, because I know what the foundation of that party is and have learned to live with the incongruencies. No potitical conversations here because the volume goes up. And, he gets lost anyway. So, maybe that isn't the worst. But now he doesn't get jokes, or most things that are abstract. We used to have those.
I wonder if he misses talking together, too, or maybe he doesn't notice.

I know that I am blessed to have whatever there is left. And so I realized that I have not only overlooked a blessing, but didn't know how to express to a friend how much I regret that she cannot hear the sound of her mother's voice. That a disagreement would even be welcome just to hear her voice again.

So, please accept the apology of this person who is supposed to know how to comfort people in their grief, their loss.

Peace. As much joy as you can bear.

Thanx, Val-Re. A sad thing is that, every night, my stepfather goes to bed first, and I have to help mom out of her chair and bring her upstairs with a bunch of stuffed animals. Before I do that, though, once I get her standing, which is a feat, as she is unsteady at first and can lose her balance, I hug her--really holding her and massaging her back and her thighs to get the blood going (I fear her developing deep vein thrombosis) and sing her an invented tune. I see her face in the mirror behind her and she is smiling and humming and trying to sing along with the invented song, and she looks so happy. She makes seemingly incoherent statements, in little phrases, like "que bueno" OR "si, mira." She means, by her actions and her smiles, that she truly enjoys those hugs. They are so IMPORTANT to her. And I can only give them to her at night, when stepfather is not around. B*st*rd. (Pardon my French.)

It's the only time we commune. If he did not exist, I'd try to have more moments like that with her, like when I cut the tips of her oh so long finger nails (lovely hands), or when I put lotion on her legs, just because (since the home attendants do that for her daily.)

My mother is literally happier and more present and involved when my stepfather is nowhere in sight. (You know what I'm thinking.)

Remember you are a solace to me, for some reason, and no apologies are necessary. You get to it when you get to it. You're so good.

I miss Mom following me around, too. But that phase has passed as well.

Remember wanting money: I want a digital camera. I have a "good eye" for composition and see so many beautiful scenes and tableaus I want to capture. I have a Rolleiflex, and a Canon, and a Nikon, all SLRs. Can't afford the film or the development of same. But I desperately want a digital one. Photography (both others' and mine) brings me incredible happiness and peace.

Oh! I managed my finances so well I was finally able to purchase a captain's bed and mattress. My inflatable was deflating, remember? It'll come Thursday.

That's all for now. Gotta try to fix up the back yard. It looks beautifully wild, but want to sit out there without being eaten by mosquitos, want to turn it into an outside living room. We'll see how much I accomplish since depression fells me and throws me in bed.

I hope I win, instead of the depression.

Thank you for thinking of me and keeping in touch.

NEVER TALK POLITICS. IT DOES NOT MATTER ANYWAY.

Saribet,

Step-father... long walk off a short pier?

What a lovely, loving painting that picture of your mother and you that would be. Could your sister who just visited be there sometime at bedtime so she could take two photos, one color and one black and white. Maybe she could help with the developing so she could have copies.

I'm so happy for you getting your new bed! Many wonderful nights of sleep lie ahead. Sorry about the pun, but it was inevitable and yes, I do remember you are a AD C/G.


Oh, my gosh, it's actually raining! It's been weeks since we have had a really refreshing rain.


If I had the soon to be no longer needed inflatable bed, I would save it for other uses. You may already have a list. Mine includes spare bed pads, a pad for under your mom's chair where she eats or somehow on her chair. Even for next summer to keep weeds from taking over the garden.

I try and think of what purpose these difficult people have in our lives. One is to remind me that I don't want to be like that, but how many times do I need to learn that lesson? Today I was reading The Power of Kindness about kindness and patience. There is also a chapter on mindfullness. Sometimes the obvious is expressed by an author, or friend, in different words than I have thought, and I better able to consider what is real. I do try to remain in the now and to not think about a relative who is so unfeeling. That expression of his lack of empathy is in the past, not the present. But all too often I fall back into the rut of the recitations of all his actions toward my ADLO and others toward me. Of course a narcissist has no regret for his actions. I wound myself when I do that. It's the old saying... about drinking the poison, of regret and hurt, and expecting the perpetrator to get sick or die.

It's still raining! I want to go outdoors and walk around in it. What will my ADLO say !

This week, I will remember the image of you hugging your mom, rubbing her back, and singing the special songs just for her. What a rare and precious beauty is this picture of your two souls coming together.

Sweet dreams and peace.
So much joy to you and your mom.
Namaste.

I don't know if I told you, but I used to take care of my multiply-handicapped niece--an angel sent to teach me and love me. She was totally incontinent, drooled all the time, couldn't talk, had trouble walking. But she was a wonder in my life. In taking care of her, which came quite easily as I've always "known" what to do (hypervigilant, intuitive eldest-of-seven taught me that), I had cloth waterproof pads for the sofa and the bed. (We slept together and with my hot flashes, I was damned if I was going to put plastic on my mattress!) It's my niece who taught me how to care for my mother. She made it so easy for me.

After I gave her up to care for my mom, I kept the pads, since the sister who took her had the money to replace them. My mom and stepfather both have everything they need: separate hospital beds (lowest quality but what can I do?); two walkers, regular canes, canes with four feet, two wheelchairs, just in case, a commode, bath chair, safety bars in bathtub, rails on the toilet, b.p. cuff, mountains of Chux and diapers for mom; loads of bandages, Bacitracin, tape, sodium chloride for stepfather's wounds, anti-fungal creams they use daily, lotion for their arms and legs. And a baby monitor, audio and video, until it broke. My parents want for nothing!

Doctors visit them at home! Podiatrist visits every three months. Palliative care nurse comes to check his wounds; palliative care social worker comes once a month to play dominoes with stepfather. They each have leather recliners, cable t.v., 12 hr/7 days a week home attendants.

I'll ask my sister to take our picture one of these nights if she is in the mood. She's quite self-involved and spacey, loses things all the time, etc. She's very sick: kidney failure, fistula curing for dialysis, on wait-list for kidney transplant, suffering now an excruciating bout of gout because of her bad kidneys. It's so sad to see my baby sister suffering so.

But that's not what you meant! Embarassing! Although the spare inflatable bed has a leak, it'll provide a bed for someone in a pinch so I'll hold onto it. Funny how I thought you were telling me to use my money in different ways!! That's the guilt I feel for buying myself a bed. I always feel guilty taking care of myself if it means spending money.

This should tell you A LOT about who I am and just how damaged by psyche and ego are.

I was going to delete what I'd written about all my parents have, but decided to leave it in there. What the hell. Let it all hang out, as they used to say in the '70s.

I love weeds. I don't pull them. I just trim them back or down so I can SEE. I love a slightly wild garden. You never know what's going to come up.

There is a huge bush-like plant. It's stem looks like red celery or rhubarb. It had racemes of tiny, white flowers which are now turning into purple-black clusters, like grapes, which the birds will come to eat in the fall. Last year I was astounded at their appetite for the berries. The birds hang onto the branches and twigs for dear life, and eat the berries upside down. I'll try to take pix with my cell phone.

The purpose of difficult people in my life is to teach me to love them anyway. I love my brother. I feel sorry for him. He's had a horrid life.

Enough!

I never intend to write so much. I never plan it. I just find myself doing it. I guess it's all the years of journal keeping.

Another person on the forum writes a great deal so she thinks she should blog. I'd do it, but only if I got lengthy responses. I don't like to write publicly just for the fun of it. It's for communication, connection, virtual companionship.

Love and peace.

HI,
Beautiful weather today. About 25 days or so until autumn is officially here.

I have too many books going now, but three are spiritually stimulating. So those are a joy to read. I'm probably surrounding myself with literary vitamins/supports, building myself up for dealing with AD. I know that sometime something big will occur, and I will likely have to quit working.

You mentioned "weeds" in your yard, Saribet. I like a so-called weed, Queen Anne's lace. It grows by the road side and has long stems with clusters of tiny white flowers in sort of wide bouquets at the top. The leaves look a little like carrot leaves. Another thing we call a weed here is the thistle; it's a national symbol in Scotland. I read once that a weed is just any plant that grows where you don't want it. You sound like you have an nurturing, inclusive nature, seeing what others call "not needed" or "in the way" or eyesores or even the unfortunate homeless people as beautiful and part of "it all". I think kindness and empathy are good gardening tools. (People who are mean don't like those and can be weeded out, thereby saving energy for the nurturing of those things and people we love.)


I thought it was good that you left the list of things your parents have. Maybe it is a good check list for someone new to Ad caregiving. I'm so glad you have the 12 hour cargivers. If I had a magic wand, or money to equal Bill Gates, I would try to set up a fund so all C/G could have at least 10 hours a week. We personally cannot do 12 a day for my ADLO. I'm hoping to have a few hours two or three times week once I have to stop working.

Take care. Wising you pleasant dreams in your new bed; only two more days to go.

Peace, Saribet.
And to all, joy enough to fill your hearts.
Namaste.

Greetings, Val-Re, (and other Ah-Musing CGs):

Yes, I know Queen Anne's Lace. There are tons of it around here. Years and years ago I found a recipe whereby one dips the blossoms in pancake-like batter and deep fries them, like the deep-fried vegetables in Japanese restaurants. Haven't tried it but imagine it must taste great.

We also have giant thistle around here, and I know it's the Irish national flower. (I know a little bit about "everything" LOL.) Oop! You said Scotland. Which is it? I'll goggle it.

Haven't yet visited the Brooklyn Bridge waterfall, but when I do, I'll let you know if I see a rainbow. It doesn't look like it's set up to have sunlight pierce it. But we'll see.

One of the reasons I want a digital camera is so that I can create a virtual photo album and be able to have friends visit it to see what I see.

Earlier this year I indulged and bought myself a binocular digital camera ($30). It has no "screen" to see what the picture will look like, but I thought I'd download them onto my lap top and see how I'm doing. Well, the camera, when I finally got around to using it, does not work. Don't have the receipt. Bummer. Maybe I'll write a letter to the company--Vivitar--to see if they can help.

I love using gardening as a metaphor for life, and for people, and for situations. One has to be careful what one wants to delete from the garden. It could be the plant with a cure for AD!

Tomorrow is the Big Day: the arrival of my captain's bed, and none too soon! I, too, began to look like a hot dog in my deflating Aerobed!

It's a beautiful day here. Cool. Autumn is just around the corner.

Peace. And more than enough joy.

Yup, the thistle is the flower of Scotland, not Ireland, according to Wikepedia. Good to know!

The shamrock is Ireland's. I shoulda known that! I didn't study for the test.

Hello to the proud owner of a captain's bed, and my fellow rambling muser!

I have been reading about grace today. I had read a long time ago a saying,"Grace is the power of the Holy Spirit to do in your life what you cannot do." I guess that grace is what got me back to Ohio. Kicking and screaming because I was leaving my job, my children and some of the most wonderful friends and colleagues. But I also knew that I could not stay so far away and have on my mind all the time that my aging father could become ill and I would get a phone call saying "come quick", or worse, "he's gone". So here I am. And the illness that was to be his fate turned out to be Alz.. Damn. My solace is that there is no physical pain for him with AD.

But the book on grace includes recognizing the signs that grace shows us. That coincidences that worked out better than we could have planned or expected, like being in the right place at the right time, are examples of grace. Now I have only just started it. It doesn't offer Pie in the Sky experiences. I hate crust anyway... white flour and lard or shortening... who dreamed that up anyway??? But so far I can see times in my life when only God's grace could have been responsible for how things turned out. I'd have been toast long before this without grace. The book suggests starting a journal, which I know I can benefit from doing. It might sound silly, but I never think I have anything important enough to write about, even though I would be the only one to read it. All that great conditioning from being told "not good enough", "not smart enough", "don't even try". I'm 58, what the heck am I waiting for?

I was so amazed by how you repaired your audio-video monitor, Saribet! Wow! I wrote down a how you repaired it. Thank you so much for that post. You made me think that even I might be able to solve a problem like that.

I liked the image of the Queen Anne's lace being cooked the way you talked about, delicate and golden. I was thinking of a tempura better when you said like Japanese restaurants.

I look forward to visiting your virtual photo album. I am excited to see the world through your eyes. I believe that grace will lead you to your camera. A friend told me to only buy one with optical zoom, but I'm betting you already know just which of the ones now available will serve you best.

I hope you have a great Labor Day week end. I might get to see one of my children; that would make mine great.

Peace. As much joy as you can handle.

Thank you, Saribet, for starting this Rambling Musing experience.

Namaste.

Saribet...
I wondered if you saw this quote:

"Let us be grateful to people who make us happy... they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom."
--Marcel Proust

I hope the quote and attribution are correct. Took it from the quotes thread. Beautiful.
Peace.
Joy.
Namaste

Dear Val-Re: As usual, wonderful, sensitive, and intelligent communiques.

Journals? Did I tell you I have been writing journals since I was 15? I write entries several times a day. (Maybe that's one of the reasons my entries on this forum can be a bit lengthy.) Nothing "important" or "meaningful" need be written. Sometimes I just write that I have to buy toothpaste, or that I saw a good movie, or that I misplaced my cell phone. And sometimes I ramble as I do on this forum.

Yeah, speaking of "right place/right time", "suddenly" discovering the wire was cut on the baby monitor was thrilling! I can splice wires; I can't repair transformers.

Tempura: that's what fried Queen Anne's Lace is like. I couldn't think of the word.

I'm psychically trawling for a digital camera. When it comes to me, through grace, I will take pictures, install the program, download the photos, and give all who care the site where they can go see the world through my soul.

(Regarding the captain's bed, Ruthie-Ray asked if the captain was still in it. She's so cute. She also "scolded" me for using scotch-tape, but I told her Matnet, who has an appliance repair business, gave me her blessings and didn't balk at the tape. This is all so ah-musing!)

Forgive me for this, but I find it sad to hear a mother saying I hope I get to see one of my kids. (You know I don't have any.) I hope your children come to you!

Have a wonderful weekend. Me? I'm cleaning out my closet. Woohoo!

Paz.

Thank you, Saribet,

"Hope", because there are car-days between one child and me and gas-miles between the other and me. I get sad about it, too, but have to thump myself back to consciousness because they are alive, healthy, and I was blessed to watch them grow up and become who they are. "Not a lot of money" doesn't compare to the joy of being part of their lives.

Ruthie is more on the ball than I am, isn't she!!! I like the way that Lady thinks!

I have asked for the camera for you, also. I have a mental picture of the feathers in flower stems in your garden, but I'm sure that it doesn't compare to the real art. I think it might have been in A New Earth where the author described the artistic process as looking at something or someone and really seeing it, as it is, not the "catalog" description" (my words)... then painting or drawing, or sculpting, what he or she sees. It's one being seeing another, not the form seeing the form. I think I understand the process a bit better explained that way.

I am so awed by your journaling history. I think my children might have benefitted if I had started when you did. I might have worked out some difficult things if I had started as a teenager.

I think you might have made a wonderful mother to children, but from what you have written it is obvious you are a Mothering-one to your family and friends. You have certainly nurtured me through your musings.
I had a class in college taught by a wonderful man named John Anderson. It was about 25 years ago and John was not a young man then, but I remember so much of my time there in his class. He gave many readings for assigments, and "the Mothering-One" was one of them. If I can find it on-line I will post the website address. Any one can be a mothering-one, but not just anyone is.

We have similar goals for the weekend. Mine appears to me, at least, more like a 4 K foot mountain. Not Mt. Everest, but daunting from a not-into-sorting-and-tossing point of view. A friend said "you have to be ruthless, but it feels so good once it's done." I need a time machine to show me that's true. I'm trying to look at it spiritually... get rid of the old/unneeded/unwanted so good can come in. Ohm-m-m-m-m-m.


Wishing you stuff for good memories. I thnk of your mom's soul as remembering all the wonders of you growing up and knowing the woman you have become.

Peace.
Namaste.

Good Morning:

Val-Re, seems you have an artist's "eye" after all. Good imagery!

Getting rid of the old so new can come in is a sentiment I've heard many a time.

Once, a friend of mine was worried that he couldn't find love. He'd been married, and that had fallen apart. He was complaining to a bunch of us when, Marcos, the eldest in the group (80 yrs. old then, now gone) said, "Do you sleep in a twin-sized bed?" Divorced friend: "Yes." Marcos: "Then you have to get rid of it and buy a double. When you do, you will find a mate. You have to make space for what you want."

Just sat out in the back yard, watching a black squirrel grooming a gray, and a bunch of tiny greenish-yellow, finch-like birds flittering about. Planning to create a bird feeder dangling on an elastic string so the birds can eat, but the squirrels' weight won't allow them to pilfer.

While clearing the closet, I found a box that has a crystal sculpture of the Twin Towers and a few surrounding buildings. I think it is time to set it out. I also found a Steiff teddy bear I bought my mother twenty-two years ago. She used to collect stuffed animals, especially bears, so I thought she would be thrilled to own a truly "collectible" bear. She was not impressed, and hid it. Now I have "reappropriated" it, and decided to put it on my bed. It is truly a beautiful bear, dark taupe, quite regal.

Hope you have an uneventful day, if you know what I mean, or only have wonderful events.

Tell me what you find.

Peace.

HI Saribet,

Well, I failed as a sorter and tosser, but I had a wonderful lunch with my son. That's all that counted anyway.

Made bratwurst and three salads. My son ate everything. That felt good. He's an adult, but seeing that I can offer him food that is satisfying and tasty has not lost it's pleasure. A relative at another function later in the day said that I really have a lot of affection for my son, as I kissed him on the cheek before he left. I didn't respond more than to say 'yes, I do.' It's interesting that the observation was even made. I love my "kids" no matter how old they get. I lived at a great distance from both of them for a long time, too long to mention, and that situation, even though they were way into adulthood, still makes me glad and grateful everyday that we have phones, e-mail, and prayer to keep us close even if we don't lay eyes on each other for a stretch of time. I can't imagine not expressing affection to them when we do get the chance to be in each other's presence. I hope that person's observation was not a way of expressing their own longing for more affection in their life.

Say, how's the bed working out?

I'm taking to heart the story about the man worried about finding love. To 'make space for what you want.' Even though I didn't do the sorting and tossing last weekend, I have a plan for this one. I think I can make a little closet into a sort of library and then rearrange things with that newfound space. I do realize that with my parent having AD, I will not have all the time in the world to "get ready" for devoting all my time to his care and monitoring of his safety. I have been a semi-pro procrastinator most of my life. That no longer has any payoffs, if it ever really did. (I don't know whether I would like a lifemate. I'm leaving that in God's hands.)

I like that idea of a hanging bird feeder. My ADLO has bird feeders, but the squirrels do find their way into a couple of them. He feeds the squirrels, too, but separately.

18 days until the autumnal equinox. It's so dry here. I have to check the Internet for the explanation of leaves changing colors in the fall and hope that a lack of rainfall doesn't adversely effect the colors. We have had a couple of downpours that only lasted a few minutes each over the several weeks now. I'm so ready to have my breath taken away by the colors of autumn.

I am daily nurtured by this website. I know I have said this before, but it's true. I went so long with not being able to talk about my LO having AD. I have a "funny" family, but not a unique family, according to the many posts. This is a small area/town. Not tiny, like a few hundred people, but the game "6 degrees of separation" here is more like three. Pity and gossip take the place of empathy and healthy adaptation. While I know that there are some really wonderful people who would have a healthy response to his illness, they all have their own lives and lots of family who need them, too. Some neighbors knew, but they are elderly and not well themselves. They provide him with the comfort of "normal" conversation and lawn discussions when they see each other outdoors, as they always have. Normal is nice for him... very nice. And the talk isn't too demanding.

We did have the uneventful day you wished me, only I kept it for the LO's general visit to the doctor. All good news equals nothing new. Next week is the neurologist. I'll ask about a couple of things I have read about on this site.

I'm going to cut some of my LO's hydrangeas tomorrow. They are white to begin with but then turn green. And I like them best now. I have a tall, old-looking brass vase with bamboo design, and I think they will look beautiful in that.

I hope you have an uneventful weekend... in the best AD sense of the word.

Peace. Joy.
Namaste.

Hey, Val-Re:

I think people are often surprised by public displays of affection, even the non-romantic kind. It is my experience that people are not that demonstrative in their love. I mean, people say they love this one or that one intensely, but actually showing the love? Well, that does not happen as much as I personally think it should. Your affection for your son was worth comment.

Sorting and tossing is a biggie. Although I am neat and organized, I find I keep a lot of things. Turns out almost everything I own, even simple clothing, is a form of memorabilia or somehow "special" to me. Therefore, throwing things away, especially when they are still in good condition, even if they are not used any more, is painful for me. Thank goodness my sister is not attached to anything and helped me toss out stuff a few months back. It made space (just as my friend Marcos had said--he's no longer with us) for--me! Now I can reach things in the closet. (I'm good at helping others do it, just have trouble throwing out my own. Wish I could be there to help you. We'd have so much fun!)

The bed is great, except for a little problem which will become a big one just down the road a piece. The mattress is too hard. I can't make a dent in it, if you know what I mean. It hurts my bones to lie in it. At the rate I'm going, I'll have a bedsore on my left hip by spring time. I'll think of a solution. But another good thing, besides having storage space in the three drawers, is that my room smells of pine! An unexpected surprise. But wait. Aren't all surprises unexpected?

I read the intensity of the colors of leaves has to do with sugars in the trees, as well as copious amounts of water. Sorry for the bad news. However, even after dry summers, we still get gorgeous reds, so what do "they" know.

In many a post, I have written that this site actually saved my life. So I know what you mean about the value of it in yours.

When you mentioned the hydrangeas, I got all excited! I especially love the hydrangea tree that produces cone-shaped blooms. My favorites are the white ones! I love "green" flowers--green irises, tulips, oh so many more I've seen in the White Flower Farm catalog, a gold standard (as Johanna C. loves to say). I thrill at having bouquets of them, and truly love when they become dry. They do it so well. Wish I could, too.

The brass bamboo vase sounds oh so perfect for the flowers.

(Hanna is heading our way. But NYC can handle hurricanes and storms quite well. Actually, I love storms. So I'm going to have a great Saturday.)

I wish you peace, and tossing.

Reading about all that sorting made me think of this weekend. Our daughter and grand kids came over and helped ma "organize" my back patio. i have a bunch of stuff to get rid of. My dishes we have used for the past 10 years.. I got my "good set" out for us to use and I love it. Who is more important than me!
And now we are planning - my husband and myself - to go to MIchigan for 5 weeks. We leave Monday on a train. I have AD he has not been diagnosed but he may have it too. so this is the best was to go. We used to drive from AZ to MIch for over 10 years. He hasn't been back there in 9 years. I have been back each of the past 2 years. 1st when my MOm was sick and we didn't think she would live but she did and we were able to place her in a nursing home. then last year when she passed away. My youngest brother had been her main caretaker - I helped him long distance - and he just closed the doors to the rooms she used, So i will be doing the sorting and getting rid of stuff there too. She was in that house for over 50 years so there is alot of stuff. Also there will be a family reunion of my Dads side of the family - he had passes away in 97. but there is a bunch of cousins ect to go. most live in the same area. @ of my daughters will go back for that and one son in law and 2 grandchildren. The others can't make it. YOu also talked about journalling
I have been reading the journals I wrote in the 1970's and still do it.
must get more stuff done. Thanks for "listening" to me. I love "evesdroping" on you two!!

Hi Marji J: Thanks for eavesdropping. This is for anyone willing to chat about anything and everything.

Sounds like your family is quite connected. It's so nice to see, for as you probably know, many members on this board have difficulty getting the family to come together.

There have been quite a few posts here in the "Caregivers Forum" where people have to dismantle the homes of those with Alz. once they go to a facility, or they pass on. It's a huge undertaking.

When you spoke of using the "good" dishes, it reminded me of my mother, (stage 6 AD). When I was a teenager, I always wanted her to use the good dishes, use the pretty clothes, and she always waited for a special day, or a holiday, to bring them out. I understood about the dishes, but I had a little bit of trouble with her saving the new cardigan I gave her, for example, to use it on Mother's Day, or Easter, or whatever. I always thought it was a waste, waiting, when I had this feeling "now" was always the best time. (I do understand, however, that she came from a generation that made a distinction between everyday and special day. It's just sad that now her good china just sits in its china cabinet, never used. Life here is such that "good china" is now inappropriate, and both she and my stepfather prefer to use the same two dishes each for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. No great loss, though. It's just sad.)

Over the last five years, I have begun getting rid of Mom's accumulated stuff, a little bit at a time, when she's still sleeping. I felt sad for her, knowing I was discarding things that were oh so precious to her, and no one else. But it had to be done. She had collected way too many papers, magazines, stuffed animals, and the like. The mice had established an entire community in her sewing room!

I love the idea that you're reading journals from 30 years ago. It must be quite a time-travel experience. I do this from time to time, especially with the journals I wrote when I first started to care for Mom and stepfather. There are such marked differences between how I handled things then, and how I handle them now.

When one handles possessions acquired over the years, each piece brings back a flood of memories, mostly good ones. I hope you enjoy your walk down Memory Lane.

Come back often.

Marji J,
Nice to hear from you. Musing at the back fence, looking at Saribet's lovely "weeds" as she calls them and looking forward to the autumn colors are my favorite pasttimes these days.
I'm so happy that you and your husband are going to Mich. at this time of year. I hope that while you are sorting/working, you are also going to be spending an inordinate amount of time, in the very best sense, enjoying each other's company!
While envy is a sin, and I am trying hard to cut back on those.... I envy both you and Saribet for your journaling. I have only mental memories of things past, and I would enjoy seeing my old self on the pages of a journal.

Marji, there is a book by Lisa Snyder called Speaking Our Minds. www.amazon.com might have the feature of letting you look at selected pages. Lisa is a social worker in California and she runs support groups for people with AD, among other services related to AD. The book she wrote is made up of series of interviews with persons with AD. I think it is beautifully written, and she takes great care to honor each of the people she interviews.

Thank you again for hopping on the Rambling Musing bus/car/ travelling ________ show. Please feel free to fill in the blank. I had Neil Diamond's song start to roll through my head when I typed "travelling" and so "travelling salvation show" almost came out in the post. I appreciate that Saribet chose Rambling Musing because it's free flowing and also intimate.

Peace. And joy every day.
Namaste.

Saribet,

The green hydrangeas do look beautiful in the tall antique-looking brass vase with bamboo design. I thought it might be combining too many different images or patterns, but it actually looks lovely. And there are many left on the bush so it still looks lovely, too.

Your post rangs bells for me as always. And I did go through some things. I have way too much in my room because I have to keep things locked up, or dear old ADLO might decide something doesn't belong, or he doesn't like it, or whatever and throw it out. So, many more things than I would like are in my room which has a very good lock. This is why I need to make the small closet into a library so all my books will be behind a locked door. The most important ones are now. I know that even books are only things, but they have good clear understandable sentences and paragraphs in them, and those are becoming rarer in practice in this house

I, too, have things which are waiting to be used, though they are not physical things. Having worked in hospices for five years I started using the material things because the importance of now and the uncertainness of the future is so real. What I do not use are "talents." Not that I'm great at anything, but I can do some things which give me pleasure if not anyone else. Long ago, by my mother's measure, I should do nothing if it wasn't perfect, which in our house meant if it wasn't how she would do it. An example is singing. I cannot sing to entertain any one but myself. But singing is such a joy, and I sing when I am alone. (Thank goodness for those bluetooth head sets, now people might not think I'm crazy when I sing while I drive!) My sewing won't pay the bills, but it's fun, when I'm not ripping out a seam that needs to be re-sewn. I might try painting pictures some day when I can afford paint. I love clouds, trees and leaves, sea shells. I can say that they are 21st century neo-impressionist style, if no one can make out what I was trying to portray!
So the thing I have been saving for "good" is me.

I took my ADLO to a neurologist today. Mini-mental went down 10 points since 8 months ago. When I read the posts of people who say how can their ADLOs seem normal in public or with doctor and be obviously impaired at home, I know what they mean. The saying "When you have met one person with Alzheimer's, you have met ONE person with Alzheimer's is so very true. People have such a pat picture of what this illness is, and they deny any signs that are not in the 6th stage. At least the people I know do. There was a family in the waiting room who had three supporting members and they were in contact, by computers, with others. That person with AD has the potential of a real support "system." I hope it works out that way for him.

How did you do with the rain and wind from the storms? I know you said you enjoy a good storm. I like lightning and thunder as long as the lightning doesn't hit anything. Art is art even if it exists only for a few seconds. I like black and white photographs of lightning.

I experienced a touch of grace yesterday. Material, but intrumentally helpful. I tried to buy gas at a station with a low price, but was blocked out of getting to the pump I needed. I figured that I had enough to get to another town where I had needed to buy tires. When I got there I found gas at 15 cents per gallon lower. Lots of little things today going to the neurologist, too, felt like being taken care of.

Feeling teary for some reason. Maybe just coming down from today's trip. Who knows?

Peace, my friend. Joy to all.
Namaste.

Dear Friend: Regarding books, about eight years or so ago, I had to break one of my own rules and begin to discard (egads!) books! I moved into a large apartment and bought two huge bookcases. Filled them with books, and then had to buy another one, and another. Realized I could not keep keeping books or I would end up living in a library. I began to discard, give away, donate. It still hurts to have done so, and I miss so many of them.

Talents waiting to be used. Beautiful words. I, too, have talents waiting to be tapped. Even if one is not a professional, singing is a joyous thing. I used to visit a friend who is a quite accomplished pianist. He would pull out music scores and we would sing together. Some of my most cherished memories are singing with him.

I love serendipitous events like your gas and tires story.

Hey, today I'm teary. Sept. 11th is a difficult day for me. Today, I have to go have one of the four nodules on my thyroid aspirated. I'm sure I'm fine. I'm glad I have an important distraction from the day.

Peace.

I like books, too, Saribet. I have thousands and thousands of books. More than some smalltown libraries. My house (and garage, too) is decorated with books. Book shelves built into the walls. I have a high, high ceiling in the living room. And walls of books all the way to the ceilings. I need a ladder to reach many of the books. Books all over. In the bedroom. In the bathroom. In the kitchen. In the closets. No place in the house without books. And thousands of CDs and cassette tapes, too. Lots of music. Lots of books. Haven't read 'em all. But I keep pecking away. I also have hundreds of birdhouses. Indoors. And outdoors. And wind chimes. --Jim