Glimmers of Summer

"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 memory is almost at 0%.  When she speaks of "home," she is often referring to the house where she grew up, and her dad who used to "watch the chickens.  He loved his chickens." 

    Just when you expect her to remember nothing at all, you drive past Burger King, where the sign reads, "Home of the Whopper," and she declares,  "Hmmm.  Home of the whopper.  The whopper.  If I remember correctly, that is a big bread bun.  With something in the middle."  Yes, Mum, you're right, that's exactly what it is.  

    My friend came to visit.  We were next door neighbors while we lived in Murrysville.  I didn't expect Mum to recognize or remember Kristine, after all, they haven't seen each other in over 30 years.  And she didn't remember, but at the same time, she didn't forget.  There was an emotional connection between them that remained, as if there was an imprint on Mum's brain.  When they say we leave an impression on others, we really, really do.  

    This weekend, we went to participate in one of Anna's programs at the state park.  Mum enjoyed watching, especially watching the children play and learn in the river.  To my surprise, she remembered the fun the next day, saying, "those children yesterday had such a wonderful time playing in the water." Glimmers of memory. 

Keep doing, keep noticing, keep loving, keep singing.  Some may wonder why we would keep going out and making new memories.  Well, partly it's because if we didn't go out and do things, we'd go crazy sitting around doing nothing.  Sometimes the outings are stressful, especially after the fact.  Mum is not very portable, and we usually pay dearly for dragging her out of routine. Partly it's because we need the new memories.  No matter how bad, I'm keeping all the photographs now.  I know how valuable they will become. 

    Much of our porch time was spent watching, listening to, and identifying the birds.  Herons, osprey, bald eagles, cardinals, woodpeckers, owls, blue jays, and more frequented our feeders.  Hours of pleasure from those birds, and several more from Sir David Attenborough's nature documentaries, the only TV that Mum can watch now.  (We have decided that Sir Attenborough needs to know about the important role he plays in our lives these days.)  

    By far, the most fun we have with Mum now, is singing.  While my friends visited, we spent hours one evening singing show tunes at the kitchen table.  We also used said show tunes to distract her from how awful a long car ride can be.  I spent some of our time on the back porch learning to play some songs on the ukulele.  Nature, music, and singing.  Glimmers of joy. 

 Silence really is golden. Mum has all but lost the ability to converse.  She now lacks the processing skills needed to actually participate in a conversation.  Does that mean she has stopped talking?  No, it absolutely does not.  In fact, Mum can talk non stop for literally hours.  A minimal talker myself, I really struggle with this. I like my quiet time.  I need my quiet time to be able to function properly. As a caregiver, quiet time and solitude are not always easy to come by. Hence, the daily kayaking.  💖  Glimmers of serenity. 

Be outside every day. Between running, walking, hiking, swimming, kayaking, and porch sitting, this girl got her share of the outdoors this year. It's not just for me, though.  For Mum, being outside is healing.  Actually, being submerged in nature is healing for all of us.  You may remember me using the term, "ecotherapy," or, "forest bathing."  It's all based on nature being good for our mental health and well being.  Most of us find our happy place in some kind of natural space:  Beaches, lakes, rivers, forests, mountains, meadows.  Many of us fall asleep to the sounds of nature, either live, or recorded.  When Mum is extra agitated, one of my first go-tos is the back porch.  As she sits and surrounds herself with sights and sounds, she becomes grounded and more able to relax.  Glimmers of peace. 

Glimmers. Glimmers are the opposite of triggers.  We know that we use the term "triggers" when we refer to a cue or stimulus that brings on a sense of fear, panic, or danger.  When we experience trauma, we tend to also experience triggers, which take us back to that state of panic or fear.  Glimmers are the opposite.  Glimmers are cues that bring us to a feeling of joy, serenity, or emotional security.  For me, glimmers are hearing certain songs, being around water or trees, watching geese or eagles fly, dozing with golf or football on the TV (going back to afternoons with my dad), certain cooking smells. Most of the activities mentioned in my post today are the glimmers that kept us going through a difficult summer.  When teaching coping skills, we encourage people to know their triggers.  If you know the things that trigger feelings of fear and danger, you can plan ahead with coping strategies to combat those emotions.  Likewise, if you know your glimmers, you can utilize them to ignite feelings of happiness, joy, or comfort.  If you look back through this post, you'll see that most of the activities that helped Mum and our family navigate this summer of dementia decline, align with my stated glimmers; nature, music, birds, water, beloved tv shows, good food. 

I said that this was the summer of learning patience and learning to let go; patience for the frustrating behavior changes that go along with dementia, and letting go of what I think should be, and embracing what is.  Knowing my own triggers and knowing how to utilize the glimmers are all part of embracing the journey.  

And time marches on.  Take care of you. 💖