My View from the Top of the World

"What I did on my Summer Vacation;"  The classic back-to-school essay.  I think my summer vacation was not so much "what I did," but more, "what I was taught." To clarify, "what I was taught" does not necessarily mean, "what I learned." I'm starting to understand the implied lessons, but I don't always consciously recognize or remember the lessons, nor do I consistently use the knowledge I have gained.  The past (almost) three months living full time with my mother have been a lesson in patience, and letting go.  I recently read an article by Sue Hansard with the (UK) Alzheimer's Society. In referring to her own mother, Sue said, "She was diagnosed with Alzheimer's Disease, and so began our family's journey of discovery and enlightenment." Yes. Our Journey.  So,  here, in no particular order, are some of my insights as we travel further along this path. People who forget also remember.  Mum's short term...

I think it's time for an update on our lives with Mum. Since August of 2022, things have been going very well down in Virginia. Anna moved to stay with her in August of '22.  The idea was to live rent free, while helping to take care of Gamma, saving some money, and paying off some of her bills.  It's been a very symbiotic relationship, and Anna has done a tremendous job. They have done a lot of walking, dog training, outings to wild areas and conservatories.  They have had regular meditation sessions, and done painting together.  The jigsaw puzzles have not been so appealing to Gamma, but we keep trying.   Gamma is losing her ability to converse effectively.  This is stressful for her, because she likes to stay in touch with her friends and family.  Fortunately, folks are doing their best to reach out to her, often. She is also not reading as much as she used to. Reading was always one of Mum's hobbies, but now she is struggling to remember what she h...

  I've had a few things on my mind lately. This morning, I sent a text to my brother, saying, "I need to have you consistently reminding me that I can do this."  You see, I frequently preach my " everything is figureoutable " mantra, but sometimes, the thing itself feels UNfigureoutable.  Sometimes, I bury myself in the what-ifs of the thing itself.   My mind has been bogged down with worries about various situations, how those situations are going to affect me, and plenty of self-doubt (hence the note to my brother). Anxiety filled days, chore-filled evenings, sleepless nights.  Another thing I said to my brother: "I tend to require situations to be in control in order for me to be OK. This situation is not, and I am not OK." As I've preached many times before to many others, most life situations cannot be controlled, and we must let go, let life happen, and learn to love what happens , in order to feel OK. I do like to have a plan.  I certainly c...

My grandfather passed away a month before Christmas when I was ten.  It was my first experience with the death of someone close to me, and my heart was broken in to pieces.  Granddad had been living with us through the end stages of his lung cancer.  Every evening before I went to bed, I sat with him to chat about the day.  He used to watch a TV program called "Songs of Praise," and I remember the sound of a choir singing hymns floating around our home.  Because of the season of his death, the carol, "In the Bleak Midwinter" has always taken me back to those precious evenings developing a closeness with my Granddad that was destined to break my heart.  My father died on a Wednesday morning at 5:45am. For several months afterwards, on Wednesdays, at 5:45am, as I was running up the hill towards my home, I would hear a particular song on my playlist. The song continues to hold special meaning - along with several others - and I continue to hear it played a...

  And, what a summer it was.  People ask me, "how was your summer?"  And I don't know how to answer.  I can't gleefully exclaim, "great!" because it wasn't.  But, it wasn't awful either.  Summer was everything you'd expect it to be when your family is traveling together through transition.  We had joy, stress, laughter, tension, frustration, happiness, tenderness, exhaustion, fear... we experienced all of it.  Weddings, travel, adventure, vacations, moves, and the logistics of keeping my mum contented and safe through it all.  And we did it.  Together, we did it.   Then, as the new school year approached, I found myself frozen and unable (unwilling?) to step out of my family organizer and caregiver role, and back into my "normal" roles as wife, mother, friend, counselor. After several months of forced family fun, and, to be honest, total chaos, I wasn't sure I could face my own high expectations of a new school year.  For ...

  Mum often calls me with concern in her voice, over one thing or another.  I'll spend some time chatting with her and we will end our conversation by repeating to each other, "all is well."  These three little words have become words of comfort to Mum and me, since the poem of the same name, by Henry Scott-Holland, was shared with me after my father's death.  The end of the poem says,  Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight? I am but waiting for you, for an interval,  Somewhere very near,  Just around the corner,  All is Well For Mum and me, these words are a comforting reminder that Dad is here, still a part of our lives, and that all is completely well.  These words, have become something of a mantra when we are maneuvering through life's challenges.  Gamma - so many of us know her as Gamma - has dementia.  We've seen it coming for a while, and it was recently made official.  The diagnosis, in my mind, changes...