Tag: love

Dementia Days or Daze?

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You tell me. I hate what this disease has turned me into. What it has turned my Pops into. The façade I put up for people keeps me safe; keeps them at arms length. I struggle everyday with the possibility that someone will find out I am a lie. I don’t have all of the answers. I am more lost than found. My heart torn into so many little pieces I am losing track of the last day I felt whole. I would walk away from my life if I knew it meant distancing myself from anymore sadness,pain and disappointment. But how do you walk away from those you love? What kind of a person would I be if I jumped ship just as soon as another deck hand was needed?

I skipped going to see Dad on Mother’s Day because I knew his nursing home would be overflowing with guilty children trying to cram a years worth of visits into that one special day. I went to see Dad this afternoon. I should have just stayed home. All the fresh laundry I brought to him on Saturday gone from his closet. I know things like this happen but everything? Really?

I can’t ask Dad what happened to his stuff. He doesn’t know. He exists in that world of zero accountability. I am just supposed to accept it, laugh it off and move on to the next topic. More often than not I feel frustrated after our visits. Like a carnival ride I can’t get off of.

We are a jigsaw puzzle with key pieces missing. We hold onto the box, our work in progress hoping that one day what is missing will be found. The problem? Dementia reshapes the pieces. The puzzle constantly changing. Only the edges are complete.

If I stopped going to see him would he even know? Could I live with myself? sleep at night? probably not.  I go for him as much as I go for myself. He is all I have left of the family I once knew.  In his smile I see the beauty of our family. It is there in his eyes I see the love he has for me. The trust he has given me. He believes in me. I used to look at him in that same way when I was a child.

For him I am brave. For him I try not to be lost. For him I would give all that I am.

The Power of a Hug

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I have never put much faith into a hug. Confining in nature almost claustrophobic for me. I do not have a great personal history with hugging. In fact, I would say it is one of my greatest weaknesses. My kid sister was the only person who’s hug I would accept. She had a way about it. She’d hang onto me like our lives depended on it. Almost as if she knew there was a storm coming. Her hugs meant the world to me because she put so much of herself behind that embrace.

Something has changed in me lately, perhaps it is because my Dad is in a nursing home. I have had a change of heart about hugging. A true hug should be given free of will and with a depth of meaning to it from you for the one you hug. There a few residents where my Pops now hangs out that feel the need to hug me. I hug them willingly. Like small children these souls hug from their hearts. Overflowing with love for someone they once knew. Some days these people think I am their loved one. They ask me about children I don’t have; husbands and grandchildren that are not mine. I go along with their alternate reality the best way I know how by not rocking the boat. People with dementia or Alzheimer’s are still who they used to be somewhere in their minds. Everybody needs love and affection.

My Pops is the same even if his memories falter or the endings to his stories change. I try to hug him more than I have in the past. I think we both need it more. I miss him. I never realized before how much power comes from such a little thing. A hug makes the weary less tired. To the sad it lends hope. To the loved it spreads an untethered joy. To the lonely a sense of inclusion, that someone cares. To the lost a ray of light showing a safe way. Hug someone today.

Scraps From the Past

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The project of the week is SCRAPBOOKING or as I like to call it cementing your past. The problem? it makes me cry. It hurts to look through years of photos of Mom and Pops. Grandparents I never met. Loved ones long gone and missed. Somehow this adventure is supposed to be healthy for my Pops. Make him a collage of things past. I just wonder who’s going to pick up my pieces? the ones that fall away from my heart and have broken all over again? I have photos of my kid sister that I won’t share as if somehow by keeping them only for myself; she lives. Odd I know but it is all I have left of her. I am taking part in this scrap booking project because my Dad needs whatever connections he is capable of making to be made. I will put on a brave face for the man who has given me so much.

Question is, what are you willing to do for someone you love?

Because I AM HAPPY

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Spring is the time of renewal. I love Spring. The longer days, the warmth of the sun, the budding of the trees and the blooming of the flowers put me over the top HAPPY. Yes, I do happy. My life sometimes brims over but who’s doesn’t? Winter this year seemed to be so drawn out. Cold and dreary, difficult times not to sink into a withdrawn emotional state. I am grateful for so many things. I have a job (even if sometimes I hate working). I am loved. My hubby understands me in ways I don’t.  My Dad is being taken care of and despite my misgivings he is doing okay. I have a home with my hubby that we love. I have friends that I care about who care about me in return.

I started blogging as a way to vent things out I felt I couldn’t control or change or sometimes as a way to let myself know I am ok; that things are normal. Everyone struggles with life and the things that make life worth getting out of bed for. I would be worried if there were no bumps in the road. I have learned that I am a lot stronger than I give myself credit for. I have a capacity for love I never knew lived inside me. I live my life for me and the people I love.

Feeling happy is a state of mind, a personal journey not a destination. Life is in the taking of risks. Living each day you are given. I used to wonder what “waiting to exhale” actually meant. I get it now. It is that feeling you get when someone startles you. It is the quick draw of breath you take in and are afraid to let go of. Like somehow holding your breath will keep you safer. After a near lifetime of holding my breath I exhaled.

I am OKAY. My life has not always progressed the way I have wanted it to but I march towards a better day, a life worth having. I hope you always have love in your life and people who are wise enough to love you for what you bring into their life YOU.

What Was I Thinking

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really? I try to go see Dad everyday. I am his link to his world. The life he once lived in, loved in, laughed in. I can tell you with all honesty it is the toughest part of my day. I hate to cry. I hate feeling open and vulnerable. Yesterday was hard for me. I had my afternoon coffee fix and prepped a bag to bring to Pops. I kissed my hubby and off I went. Dad was not in a good place. The nurse on duty pulled me aside to inform me that Dad had been grumpy and short (my Mom was grumpy and short but I think she meant Dad was out of sorts ?)

Pops contacted a cold from one of the other patients who likes to kiss the boys and make them cry. There is nothing I can really do about those behaviors so I let Pops be. The nurse I spoke with assured me Dad had been getting cold meds and seemed to be getting better except for his demeanor. She asked me if I had any ideas as to why Pops suddenly seemed angry. I am not sure how much any of you really understand dementia. A person who lives with dementia has their own sense of reality and most likely you are not invited so you have to learn to watch for the signs. Any time my Dad is in pain or has a fever he gets angry, really angry. I informed the nurse that Pops has a history of bladder/urinary problems and infections and sometimes that is enough to send him to Anger Land.

I feel like the outsider now. If pops were home I would have simply called his Dr. and scheduled a urinalysis and a meet and greet to check his vitals. Doctor appointments change when your loved one lives in a nursing home. Someone on staff calls a nurse. The nurse does a quick assessment and then decides whether or not to contact the Dr. or nurse practitioner. Tests were ordered for Dad. I think he is having a urinary tract infection or a flair up with his rheumatoid arthritis.

I left Pops shortly after his supper. I left distracted, angry, scared and plain SAD. I jumped into my Jeep and blindly drove away. Away. Far away. I was nearly into West Boylston before I realized I had no idea where I was going or why I was going. I can’t outrun my Pops’ decline. It is what it is. In my face, part of my life everyday. It sucks. It wears me down and leaves me feeling lonely and vulnerable unable to fix what has gone so wrong.

 

Pop, Dad, Old Man, mine <3

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Our relationship has once again repositioned itself. I tread unfamiliar ground. How childlike my Dad has become in such a short span of time. I was growing so weary in my role as primary caregiver. I never had any real amount of time off from my duties. Dad was ever needy. On his good days though what fun we would have. I like to believe that he looked forward to seeing me everyday. We had a routine. I would come home from work, start coffee, hit the bathroom and get ready to go out the door to Dad’s. Some days Pop even waited long enough for me to be almost done with my afternoon prep before he’d start ringing my phones. He would sometimes call every thee minutes, not absorbing enough info from the first six calls. Some days I would find it amusing, others infuriating. I could always hear the angst in his voice when he was feeling afraid or uncertain. I looked forward to the calls where he would call jovial and mischievous.

Christmas time is not easy for me. I feel alone in the world, without a connection to the family I once had. I felt even more off balance this year with my life and Dad’s being set aflutter on the winds of change. I know in my heart of hearts he is being looked after and taken care of but I miss the old goat. I thought that when the time arrived and the day passed when my phone no longer rang, I would finally know peace. Why don’t I feel that way? Why? I am sad. I am angry. I am suffering from decision remorse. I am having regrets about doing the right thing. You know they say you can’t unboil an egg. I might as well come to terms with what has happened.
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I try to go see Dad every night and help him with supper. His face lights up when I enter the room. He always thanks me for coming, like I have been away on a long voyage. I greet everyone with the warmest hello and smile I can muster. The conversation I have with Dad is generally the same every night. How is your old man? How is everyone else? How is work? When can I live with you? Why can’t I go home? Am I sleeping here tonight? How long have I been here? Do I have to sleep in the attic? Do they have a bathroom in here? I reassure him the best I can but I see the pain in his face. I feel he is nervous almost afraid. It is hard for me to cover my own misgivings about this new adventure we are on. I sing for him. I hold in my tears. I joke with him. I owe him so much. I love him. I give him what I have; me. I hope it is enough.

The Sea of Uncertainty

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paper boats
I made boats out of paper when I was a child. I liked to float them in the gutter after a rainstorm. I’d skip along the sidewalk and watch the little boats tumble over the debris in the water. I used to like to pretend that I was on one of those boats in the midst of an adventure looking for unicorns and dragons searching for uncharted land to call my own.unicorn dragon 

Children are birthed into this world knowing all the secrets. They carry all the wonderful things about humanity on their tiny shoulders. Not knowing of what the world holds for them infants sleep, they coo, they cry, wanting for their basic needs to be taken care of. It is in the growing up into a person that they learn disappointment, deceit, love, kindness, confidence, anger.

What a wonderful thing it would be if humanity could start raising their children to be more humane. Patience, love, acceptance, and understanding in healthy doses instead of anger, disappointment, cruelty. How amazing we would all be.

Inspiration…

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…that word fell out of someone’s mouth today about me. I inspire people to be bigger than they allow themselves to be. News to me. I felt a little overwhelmed by the thought actually. I often feel like a stick living a quiet life trapped in a quagmire(cool word). Floating through my life not having any real affect on anyone. Funny what we are willing to believe about ourselves. Even stranger to try to accept what others hold onto about you. I know that often I like to hold onto a belief that is untrue. I tell myself I am unworthy. I don’t use that word specifically but the sum of all the other words that scamper around my head add up to UNWORTHY or HOPELESS or something along the lines of “what you want isn’t important”. I am important. I am beautiful. I am Trish. My value as a person is ten times what I believe it is. So why do I tear myself down? why do any of us do it?

There is always someone out there waiting in the wings to tell you bad things about the who that you are. It is something that I wish we as a people could learn to stop doing. Instead of throwing people under a bus why can’t we help them climb on board? be that hand that reaches out to help instead of slap you down? Funny thing about love and kindness it GOES NOWHWERE unless it is shared. In my encounters, with people that run through the valley of my life, I like to say something positive about themselves to them. Novel concept? maybe but I like the smile I get in return. I am honest and kind. I love the people in my life. I care about each one differently and yet the same. They stay in my life which speaks volumes about the type of person I am. Who I can be. People don’t venture into a garden for the bees ( well I am sure some might) they wander in to see the glory of the blooms contained within. People naturally are attracted to beauty. So maybe I am the garden in someone’s life, how cool is that?

Self-worth or an understanding of what you mean to yourself is often pushed aside or buried by people. I do it. You do it. It is ok to be. It is ok to like yourself just as you are. There will never be another you, EVER. Accept every wonderful and dark thing about you;  because this is it. Your show. Your time. A small belief in oneself can lead to such wonderful and amazing adventures.

I think I like inspiring people.

A Girl Named Fox

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Have you ever been someplace that vibrated from the amount of admiration, respect or love for a person? I mean for someone who isn’t a rock star?  I witnessed it up close today for a man I have never actually met.  Two minutes in a reception line does not indeed count, nice try. The number of people I actually knew at the benefit was less than fingers on one hand yet I didn’t feel at odds. I was awed today.

I went to see a girl named Fox today. She is dear to me in ways I can not list here. She has a way about her that makes you feel that you are a better person just for having known her. Recently her family has been through some real crap moments due to an illness of a loved one. I have been worried about her. A true friend is someone who wants nothing from you but everything for you. I want all the awesome things about life to be there for her and her family but I can’t promise these things or even fix the stuff that is wrong. It breaks my heart. I wish I could take all the pain, fear and doubt away. I can only give of my heart, my hopes, and my support. I jokingly tell her she is part of my Framily, but I mean it. You are blessed if you can say that you have family and friends in your life that care about you; the whole of you.

I hope you and your family felt the love today.

I Will Love YOU to the Moon and Back

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Inspiration comes from the oddest of places sometimes. A song I hear on the radio, silly things I see on the street as I drive by in my Jeep or a text from my SIL.

Today is a day of two events. The first is Mother’s Day which I am sad to say doesn’t apply to me. Mother’s Day is an event for me. I am sad in a place in my soul that will be forever sad. I never imagined as a little girl that there would be no children for me. I believed foolishly that motherhood was a given.

Barren is such a harsh word for a woman without children. Even deserts have life. Barren sounds like the Moon or some other planetary body devoid of all. I am not that.

Joseph, Kristopher, Courtney, Michaela and Nathan these are MINE. All the children that I love in so many and yet all the same reasons. The parents in their lives, let me be part of their growing up. I like to think that I left a spot on their hearts; that life is wonderful if you live it, that LOVE is the best thing you can ever have, that you just need one person in your corner who will always be there, that will always want the best for you.

Mother’s Day is an event for me because my mom passed away. I miss her.Days like today bring out my regrets of things unsaid, undone and left awry. Days like today make me feel that I am all alone in the world, but it is a lie. I have great people in my life that I love who love me.

The other event in my life today is my eighteenth wedding anniversary. Really? 18? Big D has stuck with me through it all. I tried to set him free after we learned of the “no children” ruling . He told me he loved me, had no intention of leaving. The thing is I never thought I would be that girl. That girl who lived happily ever after. Fairy Tale? There are days when I want to be free but that is me being selfish. I would be lost without Big D. I love him with my whole being, jerk that he is.