Too Bogged Down to Blog

The past three weeks have torn at my emotions: mourning the death of my mother’s cousin who was like a sister to her but Mom was unable to attend the funeral, seeing young, happy pictures of my parents in the bridal party at my aunt and uncle's 60th anniversary party yet Mom was missing from this event, feeling my parents’ big old house shake and fearing it was falling down since we never expected an earthquake, preparing for hurricanes, dealing with power down and water up in two basements, trying to contain and cure Mom’s pinkeye, training a new weekend caregiver and unexpectedly becoming Mom’s primary caregiver for four 12-hour days and five half days.

I recognize I cannot control events, the weather or even when my eyes flood and my voice breaks. Sometimes this sense of powerlessness makes me want to find a support group and connect with other caregivers, both to share with people who understand some of my experiences and to learn from them and their perspectives.

Yet I have hesitated to do more than get a schedule of local Alzheimer’s support groups. Maybe I am reluctant to make a time commitment. since too often my plans get overruled by circumstances. Maybe I don’t really want to know what the future holds. Maybe such a group will require more emotional energy than I have.

Have you been in a support group—particularly one dealing with a medical or end-of-life issue? Did you meet in person? Chat online? I would appreciate insights about the value of such groups or recommendations about where to go. I look forward to your comments!

Living in the Maybe Zone

I am a planner. I like to be prepared. If I say I am going to do something, I do everything in my power to keep my commitment. Myers-Briggs personality tests label me a strong J (judger) since I like to have matters settled, decided. At the other end of the spectrum from J is P which perceives many different options and likes to keep them all open. Wouldn’t you know I would be be married to someone who is at least as an extreme a P as I am a J!

Each Sunday I make a master list of all the activities for the week and what needs to be accomplished. Last week I was especially looking forward to Friday. Our weekday caregiver would train a new weekend caregiver and my dad would help with transportation so my husband Paul and I could have a day of “carrots.” We would go to the shore and then enjoy catching up with old friends at a picnic. A full day of fun at last! Eager as I was, I recalled recently thwarted recreational attempts, wondered if we might want to stay at the shore longer, and responded “Maybe” to the 5 - 9 pm picnic invitation. Smart move.

What is that saying about God laughing at our plans? Well, the laughter began on Thursday. A sister called to say she’d be arriving later that day from western PA to be ready for an appointment in Trenton she had just scheduled for Friday morning. Then I learned that her husband also was coming. The leftovers just would not stretch. Add to the list: run to the grocery store.

When I returned to my parents’ home with the groceries, our weekday caregiver announced that she had to leave that night to help one of her kids on Friday. Then our niece whom we’d be picking up in Philadelphia on Saturday asked to stay overnight. So much for the shore, but what if I trained the new weekend caregiver and she stayed with Mom Friday afternoon so I could clean our house. Another call. The trainee could only stay two hours on Friday—I’d be with Mom 7 am - 7 pm.

Friday came. Paul drove my sister and her spouse to the Trenton appointment since he knew the neighborhood. I did lots of cooking so we could share a nice meal with them before they left. Then my dad sat with my mom for two hours while Paul and I did some speed cleaning at our house.

Walking home after helping mom to bed, I commented that it sure looked like rain. We made it to our house before the skies opened up. Is the picnic still on? Is it too late to go? If friends came all the way from Milwaukee, rain would not stop the event. We did get our water, just without the sun and sand. We went to the indoor picnic and had a good visit with lots of folks we had not seen for a while.

Friday did not go at all as I had planned, but it turned out okay. I realize that I can’t control anything beyond myself. And far too often, I cannot even control myself or my thinking, speaking, eating or.... But I don’t believe that means I should not plan. I just need to hold open the possibility that maybe things will change. Flexibility has not been the strongest trait in my J personality. But life—especially when caring for others—keeps testing my flexibility. At the rate I’m being tested, you’ll soon be calling me Gumby! Well, maybe.

A Carrot a Day?

Too many caregiving needs, too little sleep, feeling unappreciated and isolated, too many headaches, not enough time to relax... I was on the brink of burnout but I kept pushing ahead, plodding on empty toward the “carrot”—vacation from stressors at a cabin in the woods. In the midst of buying food and supplies, double checking caregiving arrangements and making all the extra preparations needed to get away, my sister-in-law who’d invited us to share their Arkansas version of Walden Pond called a few days before the flight. The plans were changing.

Due to a medical concern, she had to return home to Dallas. Could we fly there instead of to Little Rock? We might or might not make it to the cabin for a few days. I felt like a tire traveling at high speed that suddenly blew out, completely deflated. (With three such blowouts on the highway in the past nine months, this image was powerfully vivid for me.) The carrot of “sleep, pray, hike, sleep, talk, read, sleep” looked more like a mirage.

Grasping for our vacation, we looked into changing our flight and learned the steep price of spontaneity. This news decelerated the process and gave us time to think. We realized that our daughter’s medical procedure had been rescheduled into the time that we’d be away. Though she previously had assured us that she would be fine, when we told her that our plans had changed and asked if she wanted us to come support her, she eagerly agreed.

As much as I love my daughter, saying “Goodbye, cabin; hello, more caregiving” was tough to swallow. I could not even verbalize a prayer request at church since I was too close to tears. Then I felt God speaking to me, telling me to build regular rest into my everyday caregiving schedule rather than depending upon once-in-a-while vacations.

After church my resolve was tested immediately. Should I make a quick trip to the store? A voice seemed to say, “No. Rest!” We ate leftovers for lunch. Mid-afternoon my niece called from my parents’ house to say that her mother—who’d been giving me a caregiving break for the day—had hurt her ankle. After being with Mom Friday and Saturday, now I was back there and caring for Mom and my sister! The brief rest I had after church helped me better handle this unexpected need. God prepared and equipped me as I listened to him for my schedule.

The bad news: we did not get to the cabin. The good news: we cancelled the car and hotel reservations without penalty and can use our flight dollars to reschedule the trip to the Arkansas. Even better news: we enjoyed being God’s agents of care for our daughter, and on the way home stayed overnight at a wonderful inn and spa in Delaware where my husband surprised me by scheduling a massage. Bliss! The best news: this crisis is making me rethink my lifelong policy of “don’t play until the work is all done.” Now in my daily diet I am trying to include “carrots” like sleeping in, reading for pleasure, taking a walk with my husband, interacting with a friend or even blogging. These carrots are improving my eyesight by helping me see life more positively!

Unleashing Prayer Power

Much of my time during the past year seems to be centered on care for the elderly slice of my sandwiched life, but recently my energies have been split between my kids and my parents.

For the wedding of our son Tim, besides a weekend trip to Boston to help him clean, pack and move, as well as shopping for my last “mother-of” outfit, I stepped out of my comfort zone (into Arthur Murray’s) to prepare for a mother-son dance.

Of course, the real preparation for both my children’s weddings began years before. As their individual personalities began developing, I began praying for their future life partners. The results were wonderful, and the experience prepared me for something I’d never have predicted: writing my first book review! I’m a fan of writer Robin Jones Gunn and her lighthearted Sisterchicks novels. So when I learned that she’d jumped into nonfiction with coauthor Tricia Goyer to write Praying for Your Future Husband and I discovered that bloggers qualify for a complimentary review copy in exchange for a complimentary review (just kidding, the review should be honest)....hmm, why not try a new genre?

In Praying for Your Future Husband, I found personal, practical and encouraging ideas aimed to address the concern of Christian females over the lack of God-honoring guys to marry. These two fiction authors share their own less-than-fairy-tale romances and then reveal, step by unexpected step, how God led each of them to an enduring, far deeper relationship. They show how specific, proactive prayer unleashed God’s power in their lives and in the lives of their future spouses.

Make no mistake, this is not a sit-around-and-wait-for-the-perfect person-to-show-up book. Emphasis is placed on prayer for the development of godly character traits and heart attitudes, first in self and then in a yet-unknown potential mate as evidenced by the full title of the book Praying for Your Future Husband: Preparing Your Heart for His. While I thought I'd prayed comprehensively for my children’s spouses, I learned many more specific ways to pray from Robin, Tricia and others they quote. This small book expanded my appreciation for the power of prayer!

Twelve chapters each focus on a topic to pray for (such as patience, understanding, protection, contentment, etc.) with detailed guidelines on how to pray. Thankfully, they are guidelines—not some magic formula to produce a husband. To personalize these concepts, there is space for the reader to write her responses, as well as questions about the content to consider individually or in a group discussion. Woven throughout are on-target Bible verses and inspiring real life stories of God’s answers to prayer. This information is so relevant and useful that many prayer suggestions for a mate could continue to be prayed for after a wedding!  

This book reminds that God wants us to have a different value system than our culture. In the chapter “Pray for Strength,” for instance, the focus is not on glorying in superficial physical attributes but on strength of character, of spirit, in leadership, to resist temptation and in reputation. Throughout the book, the reality of spiritual warfare, particularly for one growing in Christ, and the need for prayer to unleash God’s supernatural power are clearly articulated.

No guarantees are made that reading and responding to Praying for Your Future Husband will automatically dispense a marriage proposal, let alone one worthy of a “Yes.” Yet, I heartily recommend this book to any woman looking for love and intimacy. The authors declare, “The mystery of it all is that you don’t know if your life story will have a grand love story in it. But you do know that you’re part of a greater, eternal romance. A very real Bridegroom has promised to one day come riding in on a white horse and to take you away to be with Him forever.” Meanwhile, the character traits you’re encouraged to embrace in this book will serve you well in all earthly relationships.

Read Chapter One of Praying for Your Future Husband

WaterBrook Multnomah Publishing Group provided this book to me for free in exchange for my review as part of their Blogging for Books program.

Taxes and Tires

As I look back over the past twenty-four hours, I realize they have been focused primarily on caring for my parents’ caregivers.  Last night I discovered that our weekday caregiver was having problems getting her state tax refund.  After waiting a month, she called to find out why she had not received the monies due her.

IRS tech-nese can be challenging even for those well versed in English, let alone those for whom English is a second language.  We spent 2.5 hours jumping through hoops to Internet-search the right agency, make early morning calls in English and Spanish, write the required letter and take her to get it notarized. April 15 is not exactly the best day to make a call about a refund!  If she had not called, though, who knows how long it would have been before she would have been contacted.  Yet, when the tables were turned and the state wanted money from her, she said they communicated quickly!  I know our state is in fiscal distress, but so are individuals.  Service should not be one-way.

When I returned to my house, I started in on my personal “to do” list.  But it was interrupted when I got a call from our weekend caregiver asking if this was my husband’s scheduled day off; she had a flat tire and wanted help changing it.  It wasn’t, but my Dad and I offered to help her.  

I’d like to say we went and 1-2-3 replaced the tire with a donut.  NOT!  The tool to remove the special anti-theft nut was nowhere to be found.  She thought it might be at a storage unit several miles away so Dad took her there while I finished jacking up the car and loosened the other nuts.  She found the tool, and we left her able to get to work at Mom & Dad’s tomorrow.

This was not exactly the day I had planned, but how often are they?   Caring is a two-way street.

Moving On

Boston is a place of special memories for me.  Paul and I honeymooned there, helped with a Habitat for Humanity build after completing construction on our home, attended a marriage seminar, celebrated our anniversary, helped move our son Tim in eight years ago, sat in on Harvard Business School classes, attended HBS graduation, helped move Tim, visited churches, theaters and sampled a smorgasbord of Beantown eateries through thirty-three years.

Recently I made more deposits into my Boston memory bank, spending a long weekend with Tim.  You’ll never guess what we did.  I was able to express tangible care by helping my son clean, pack and move most of his worldly goods from one apartment to another in preparation for his marriage to Grace.   

A friend driving to a conference near Boston had asked if she could deliver anything to Tim.  First I thought of stuff to send the 300 miles, and then I thought of sending myself.  I am glad I did.  

My Jersey country boy has become a mature city man.  In two days, my pedometer—and the aching soles of my feet—testified that we took more than 25,000 steps (nearly 8 miles) in a city with hills and a fourth-floor walkup apartment.  Tim’s ability to navigate the streets and hard conversations were impressive.  He gave me a tour, pointing out places where he had worked, where he had asked Grace to marry him and other special spots.  I also heard him deal gracefully with several touchy issues in a way that helped the other person feel understood as well as understand why change was necessary.

We dealt with lots of “stuff,” including 2.5 years of recycling, items for Goodwill and things past their usefulness.  When going through papers, I noticed an envelope with my name on it. Tim had written and addressed a note of thanks to me over a year ago but had never quite gotten a stamp on it.  He hand delivered it and doubled the thanks.  

Helping Tim move was arduous even with a borrowed car.  Finding parking is a challenge, especially since many areas are reserved for residents and the car we used had NJ plates.  With construction blocking access to the main entrance at the new apartment, we used the loading dock and luggage carts to save our backs and move Tim’s things.  How different Boston looks from the 24th floor!  

I believe helping Tim with the move and spending time interacting with him are preparing me for the change in relationship that marriage brings.  I look forward to a Boston wedding and adding another daughter to the family soon.

Boundaries?

Since the last blog post, my caregiving has meant dealing with a skin cancer surgery, an ER visit, filling seven prescriptions, and calling four doctors with competing advice on dealing with an infected toe.  Then there’s helping with tax returns for two families and editing the resume of an unemployed family member, plus my own endoscopy-colonoscopy double header and several other tests to determine the source of abdominal pain.   

When, as a responsible first-born, do I take a break from caring for others to care for myself?  My desires feel like wants; others have needs.  Is there enough Elsie to go around?

I was invited to accept a volunteer leadership position at church.  While thinking and praying about the decision, the “what ifs” sprouted like dandelions.  What if my parents’ health needs consume more and more of my time and energy and I have to step down?  What if my health is being compromised by helping my parents?  

Blogging is making me accountable to reflect, to be more intentional about my life.  But sometimes my words seem to dangle in cyberspace.  I would love to have responses bounce back at me on how to honor family members while caring for self...or any related issues.  I look forward to your comments.  By the way, in faith, I said “yes” to the leadership position.

Through the Valley of the Shadow of Death

For most of my life I have been scared of death. I was in first grade when Grandpa Van died.  Though I do not remember what I was told, I remember having nightmares, sobbing uncontrollably in school and the teacher comforting me. I was not allowed to attend the funeral.  I could only imagine how terrifying funerals must be. When I was in fifth grade, Grandpa Whitlock died.  Again, none of us kids, even I, the oldest, were allowed to attend the funeral.  No one talked about death. Was it too awful to discuss? Was it contagious?

I learned that death could happen unexpectedly. My husband and I were teaching Sunday school when my dad let me know that Grandma Whitlock had been taken to the hospital.  His matter-of-fact tone conveyed little urgency, so we finished the class and ate lunch. As we prepared to head to Pennsylvania, we learned that she had already died. Shock! How often I have regretted being unable to say goodbye. We brought our toddler Tim to the service, but his boy-sterous behavior made this another funeral I couldn’t really attend.

When my Grandma Van’s health began deteriorating, I was determined to be there for her. Several times a week I traveled nearly thirty miles each way to spend time with her.  How hard to see this dear woman who had long been deaf now lose her sight and have her body attacked by cancer. I experienced death’s finality up close; she and I were alone when she breathed her last breath.  

Since then, I have more than made up for earlier missed funerals, especially while having a leadership role at a ministry. Each experience was unique; every loss left a hole in the heart that no one else can fill.  

I faced my own “valley of the shadow” in 1998 when I became severely dehydrated on a mission trip in Nicaragua and wasn’t sure I would see New Jersey again.  Each of my parents have had health crises in the last decade when we didn’t know whether they would pull through.  We all survived, but now it feels like we are on a very long medical roller coaster where fever goes up, resistance goes down, pain goes round and round, body falls down.  An amusement park ride is over in minutes, but this ride has been twisting and turning for years.  Now the ups are shorter and the downs deeper, more wide ranging.  I hate the unpredictability, never knowing when the ride will end.  But in reality none of us know.  I think of the earthquake and tsunami in Japan.

For strength, I go back to Psalm 23. “I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.” Living in fear is not helpful or healthy. I may feel alone, but I am not. God is strapped in with me on this ride. He wants me to focus on the good, to make the most of each day and each opportunity to invest in a person’s life.  So that’s what I want to do, in sunlight and in shadow.

Love in the Little Things

Both parents have been fighting respiratory challenges.  A few days ago, Dad called several hours after his bedtime asking me to give Mom a sleeping pill since her coughing was keeping him up.  Last night with Mom still coughing, it seemed best for her to sleep in a more upright position in her recliner and Dad in the bed.  The goal:  to give each an uninterrupted night’s sleep.  When I asked Dad in the morning how he had slept, he said it was horrible.  Surprised, I asked why.  Sheepishly, he said he missed having Mom in bed with him.

It was touching to hear this expression of love.  When I discussed sleeping arrangements for tonight with one of our health aides, she noted other ways my parents show care for each other.  Dad watches her like a hawk to make sure she is properly caring for Mom, and each morning Mom brightens when she sees Dad.   “You are so lucky,” she continued.  “Nine out of ten people get mean and crotchety as life gets tough.”  She gave examples of unpleasant patients she has cared for.  

Truly, I am blessed to have a mother who appreciates the help she receives—from getting her a straw to cleaning her up after the diaper overflows.  And I am blessed to have a father who cares for his wife even though she does not always remember they are married.  

Tonight, using a wedge pillow, Mom is reclining next to Dad in their own bed.  I am hoping we all will sleep well!

Looking at the Glass Half Full

When you are asked “Is your mother alive?” and “Where does she live?” by your mother, what do you say?  While silently grieving that she seemed not to know I am her daughter, I said, “Yes, nearby.”   

I am choosing to focus on Mom’s abilities to socialize and communicate.  She loves interacting with people and thoroughly enjoyed a recent visit from a neighbor.  When asked questions about each of her five children, she answered confidently.  Never mind that the answers were inaccurate or that the next day she did not remember the visit.  The time together was joyful for both women, and I was able to clear up misinformation while walking the neighbor to the door.

As the neurons tangle, “creativity” is surfacing in a variety of ways.  I am choosing to see the humor in Mom’s recital of “Beans, beans, the musical fruit, the more you eat, the more you toot” at a mealtime rather than the traditional grace.  Or in my home-economics-teacher mother’s decision to pour her glass of water over her spaghetti.  It’s better to laugh than cry.

My World is Expanding!

Culturally/relationally:  Last weekend my husband and I traveled to Virginia and Maryland to meet the parents of our son’s fiancée and celebrate Chinese New Year with her family.  I enjoyed discovering new traditions and taste sensations.  Most impressive was the honor and respect shown to the remarkable 93-year old grandmother.  Family members came from Beijing, San Francisco and Boston to her neighborhood to celebrate.  Every dish in the ten-course banquet was served to her first.  While the only language we shared was smiles, that was enough!

Physically:  Over the weekend, my daughter gave me a pedometer.  After learning of recent research on how walking can grow the hippocampus to keep memory and spatial navigation sharp, I want to walk at least 10,000 steps a day, with as many aerobic as possible.  It’s not easy to walk outside for long with the Arctic chill we’ve been having.  But yesterday, with the help of my Zumba class, my pedometer logged over 10,100 steps!

Technologically:  After visiting an Apple store today, I now own an iPhone.  I’ve had an hour of instruction on this device which has endless possibilities and a similar-sized learning curve.

Ironically, at the moment it seems as if each of my world-expansions is bringing more living with less time to write about it!  Wonder if I can blog from an iPhone....

Gaining Perspective

Yesterday during a 75-minute wait with my dad for his quarterly doctor appointment, I had time to reflect.  Chilling temperatures and snow aside, last week was a super week!  Besides overseeing my parents’ needs, I had a welcome number of opportunities to interact with people and ideas:  participating in a surprise baby shower for a Curves friend, dress shopping with a mother of the bride (MOB) and an MOG, enjoying a four-course meal at a restaurant school with my husband, conversing with three women caring for their ninety-something mothers and seeing live theater in Philadelphia (Amadeus and Lidless).  

Today it has been two long short years since I left my job directing the Burlington Center Mall Ministry to focus on ministry to family.  I had some idea of the big events to expect--the weddings of my daughter and the sister who had lived with my parents.  Somehow, though, I expected life would resemble my days off from work.  I hadn’t consciously recognized that my parents’ health would trend mostly downward nor that the journey of caring for two households could be lonely: interacting more with wash, dishes and bills and less with people!   And that this people person would have lots of alone time at home.  When I do plan times with friends, it seems they are often cancelled by a suddenly surfacing need.

When life gets frustrating, something has to change—possibly my perspective.  I am learning to celebrate the small things:  when my mom is able to use her walker to get from her lift chair to the bathroom, when dad has enough zip that he doesn’t need to take a nap or when we have a week where caregivers, activities and the furnace all are actually working according to plan.  

As we were leaving the appointment, my dad asked the doctor about the current stage of mom’s dementia.  He said, “Pretty advanced.  She wouldn’t be alive if people weren’t helping her.”  The statement hit me hard.  I am making a difference as part of a team that helps both my parents continue living.  Thank you, God!

Talking Trees

This morning when I looked out at this white bounty bestowed upon our yard, my first response was “What beauty--so lacy and bright white!”  My immediate next response was to notice how my normally upright trees were bowed so low.  Hearing their moans and groans, I ran for a broom to brush burdens from each piece of greenery within my reach.  This was more important to me than shoveling our seventy-five foot drive.   

As I went from tree to tree, some needed only a light touch from the broom to drop their snow.  Others were more stubborn.  I had to shake the branches.  But when the snow finally fell, I could almost hear “thank yous“ as the branches swooped back up to their normal positions.  Unfortunately, even after I removed snow from the evergreen we always decorate with lights at Christmas, its branches have not yet bounced back to their beautiful conical shape.  

And, as Paul and I were shoveling the drive, some snow-burdened branches crashed from tall trees to the ground.  After last night’s snowfall, our back yard looks a bit like a war zone.

This exercise of blogging has gotten me thinking about what I do and why I do it.  Do other people hear trees groan and say thank you?  Am I over-identifying with the trees?  How much of creation is mine to care for?  Am I willing to be shaken to relieve too-heavy burdens?  If only the boundaries on my caregiving responsibilities/opportunities were as easy to recognize as the lines Paul drew in the snow for our shoveling a path in the driveway!

Defining My Journey

In calling this blog My Care Journey, I have in mind the multiple facets of its meaning.

care (kâr)*
noun

1. A burdened state of mind, as that arising from heavy responsibilities; worry.
2. Mental suffering; grief.
3. An object or source of worry, attention, or solicitude: the many cares of a working parent.
4. Watchful oversight; charge or supervision: left the child in the care of a neighbor.
   

verb, intransitive

1. To be concerned or interested: Once inside, we didn't care whether it rained or not.
2. To provide needed assistance or watchful supervision: cared for the wounded; caring for an aged relative at home.
3. a. To have a liking or attachment: did care for the movie.
4. b. To have a wish; be inclined: Would you care for another helping?

I am focused on making sure that my parents have the best quality of life achievable as their physical and mental functions deteriorate, while also trying to pay attention to the needs of my husband, my adult kids, other family members, friends and myself.  Such a range of emotions:  from joy at giving back to those who gave me life... to grief at now having to parent my parents who don’t remember our shared history or always recognize me, from thankfulness for their eighty-some years of life... to stomach-churning indigestion from this seemingly endless overstuffed sandwich of caring!  

I want to be available to help with wedding plans for our son and his fiancee in Boston, to visit with my daughter in Virginia, to reach out to my sister in Oklahoma who is in the midst of life-changing decisions, to go places and do things with my wonderful husband, to meet with friends, to try my hand at painting or swimming lessons....Then there are all the things I should be doing:  cleaning, decluttering and organizing at our house and my parents’ house, preparing taxes and dealing with my endless “to do” list...

As a follower of Jesus Christ, I am thankful that he invites me to cast all my care upon Him, for He cares for me (1 Peter 5:7).  I need the sense of burdens lifted and knowledge that I am loved in my imperfect state.  Praise God!

*  Edited from The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language, 4th edition Copyright © 2010 by Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing Company. Published by Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing Company. All rights reserved.

I am in the 29%

Did you know that more than 65 million people in the US—29% of the population—are caregivers?

Nearly one third of the US population is providing care for others!  This is one fact I learned from Care.com’s Webinar on “How to put the ‘Share’ in Family Caregiving.”  They offered “Share” strategies:

• have family meetings where all can communicate concerns
• clarify specific needs, tasks and responsibilities
• create a care team
• encourage others to help according to abilities
• keep re-evaluating what makes sense and what can reasonably be done to meet changing needs
• plan ahead, understanding the wishes of family members

While caregiving has many “to dos,” the webinar ended by reminding me of the positives that result from caring for another.  This time spent together is time when relationships can be strengthened, family history can be imparted and caregiving is modeled to future generations.

I came away with some tangibles to accomplish and a powerful reminder of the power of love!

Moving Ahead

The one tangible thing I did for myself so far in 2011 was sign up for a Zumba class at my Curves.   Last Wednesday was the first class and I felt like a flunkie, with my feet doing their own thing and feeling slightly behind the beat.  But since my mom definitely has dementia and my dad's memory also seems to be slipping, I want to get all parts of my body and brain moving with doing new things!
Yesterday we gave Mom the last dose of a Parkinson's med.  Her doctor has been insisting for a long time that he thinks that is part of her diagnosis.  Previously, I had read the forty-some page document he had given me on the disease and questioned a friend whose husband died from Parkinson's and also knows Mom and her condition.  Independently, we both disagreed with the doctor.  But after several years of his pushing and now he is coming out to the house to see her, I consented to a month trial.  During that time, her tremors remained the same and another problem was exacerbated—constipation.  So hopefully, both of us—in our own ways—will be moving better today.

Begin Now!

One of the best ways I can care for my parents is to also care for myself by taking time to step back and reflect. Often, I have to write my thoughts to know them and, ultimately, to understand them. So...here I go in medias res--jumping into the middle of things without any knowledge of how to create a blog--since there is no neat way to start.

I know that the weather, cancelling caregivers and many other quandaries that I have not even contemplated will rise up to interrupt but I am taking a baby step forward! I got up early to say "Hello" to a new day beginning.

Waiting for sunrise across the road from my house