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.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Thursday, February 10, 2011
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....
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....
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
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!
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!
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