I have a little house at the beach. So on Friday evenings I drive there for a short reprieve. I usually stop by the "Cove", to see who's out in the evening surf. This time, there were only 3, bobbing like seals waiting for a set. The light was beautiful as the sun began to drop over the horizon, glittering on the waves, casting a peachy color over the rocks and sand. I would have suited up if my board and wetsuit were with me. By the time I got to the house is was almost dark. I unpacked my things, turned on the heat, made some tea and popped in a movie. I needed to decompress.
Sleep is so different at the beach. The air is thick and heavy there. It presses down on you as you sleep. Sometimes its hard to wake up feeling refreshed because you get down so deep into the dream state. Your eyes don't want to open and your pulse seems slower than normal. It's an uphill climb back to reality.
I made my usual morning trek to the ocean at 8. When I hit the top of the road, I saw them. They were sending spray high up into the sky. The whales! My eyes teared a little over my surprise . Its been a while, and I had forgotten them. When I was surfing regularly I could always spot one or two out there somewhere. Standing guard for me. Its kind of a personal thing I have for the whales. I've always loved them. Once, a shaman told me they were my power animal, which was kind of a, "Duh".
They were in close, just beyond the breakers. I couldn't tell how many there were in the pod, but it didn't matter. The ocean was glassy and calm. "Hello", I said out loud (knowing I was alone), "I've missed you". The mist was just beginning to rise off the sea and I could see all the way up and down the beach. It was just me, the whales, and the lone osprey hovering overhead. They were directly in front of me as I walked to the waters edge in hopes of absorbing everything. Their barnacled backs rolling through the water, their side fins pointing to the sky, tips shimmering in the sun, the sound of their powerful airy blows. What a show!
I was grateful to see them again. My heart overflowed with joy. It felt like guardian angels might be nearby. In that moment, it felt as though everything was going to be o.k.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Friday, August 22, 2008
Tour of Duty
Mom and I were sitting in lounge chairs in the backyard today eating popcicles. How cool is that!
Clearly, this is far more important work than sitting in an air conditioned conference room debating about some corporate marketing plan that's for sure. What could be more important? I'd like to know.
To bring you up to speed, I quit my job about a month ago. And while I'm hunting for my new post, I decided to move home to help care for my 70 year old mom, Patty, who has advanced Alzheimer's. I was trying to give support on weekends and holidays, but dad needs so much more help. He calls me daily to share his frustrations, ask for help and sometimes just freak out. So, why not.
I'm not sure how long this tour of duty will last. But, I'll tell you this. I can't image being anywhere else right now. Once I moved in, and fully understood the bizzare happenings, it became clear to me that I must be here.
Clearly, this is far more important work than sitting in an air conditioned conference room debating about some corporate marketing plan that's for sure. What could be more important? I'd like to know.
To bring you up to speed, I quit my job about a month ago. And while I'm hunting for my new post, I decided to move home to help care for my 70 year old mom, Patty, who has advanced Alzheimer's. I was trying to give support on weekends and holidays, but dad needs so much more help. He calls me daily to share his frustrations, ask for help and sometimes just freak out. So, why not.
I'm not sure how long this tour of duty will last. But, I'll tell you this. I can't image being anywhere else right now. Once I moved in, and fully understood the bizzare happenings, it became clear to me that I must be here.
Hair Salon Day
Yesturday was hair salon day for my mom. Its always dicey if we can get her in the car, as she sometimes is resistant to going. But, yesturday was successful. A sweet young girl meets us at the door and takes mom by the hand to her station. For a minute, my mom feels pretty, holds her head up, stands a little straighter, flirts for a second or two with my dad when we get home, then goes back to bed. When she wakes up, the hairdo is gone, but its o.k.
You know how Alzheimer's folks forget. That also means they can't remember when they've just eaten. Besides not remembering the pleasure of a juicy popcicle on their tongue, they also don't get the sensation of being full. Yesturday mom was starving.
She actually paced around the kitchen waiting for me to prepare food, after each meal had been cleared. It made her a bit frustrated, because she needs me to understand and to react,
since she cannot prepare food herself. Imagine standing in your own kitchen and feeling so hungry, but not knowing how to get food yourself, and to have to wait for someone to understand what you need. That's a bummer.
At times, mom tries to strike up a conversation with me. She askes, "how are your kids"?
It takes me a while to explain that I am single with no husband or children. I don't think she buys it.
Today I'll take mom and go running again at the track. She'll watch me from the van and wave each time I pass. Perhaps her mom and sisters will come and visit her again (she imagines). As long as her day dreams are pleasant, we're doing o.k.
xoxoKristine
You know how Alzheimer's folks forget. That also means they can't remember when they've just eaten. Besides not remembering the pleasure of a juicy popcicle on their tongue, they also don't get the sensation of being full. Yesturday mom was starving.
She actually paced around the kitchen waiting for me to prepare food, after each meal had been cleared. It made her a bit frustrated, because she needs me to understand and to react,
since she cannot prepare food herself. Imagine standing in your own kitchen and feeling so hungry, but not knowing how to get food yourself, and to have to wait for someone to understand what you need. That's a bummer.
At times, mom tries to strike up a conversation with me. She askes, "how are your kids"?
It takes me a while to explain that I am single with no husband or children. I don't think she buys it.
Today I'll take mom and go running again at the track. She'll watch me from the van and wave each time I pass. Perhaps her mom and sisters will come and visit her again (she imagines). As long as her day dreams are pleasant, we're doing o.k.
xoxoKristine
Bobbing
My dad only called me twice last weekend to tell me that mom was looking for me, and that she was sitting at the dining room table staring at the vase of flowers and wanted to go home.
Mom tells us often that she wants to go home. And when we say, "this is your home, Mom", she gets frustrated. So, I told my dad to try and change her context. My trick is to turn on some Dean Martin tunes, and break out the peanut butter and graham crackers. Usually that works. Thank goodness he tried it. Otherwise, he would have asked me to come home early.
Theraputically speaking, I get really good results with songs such as, "Welcome To My World", and "Ain't That a Kick in the Head", by Dean Martin. They are perfect songs for my mom. She remembers them a little, and tries to form the words and sing along.
Another big hit is, "Que sera sera" (Whatever Will Be Will Be), by Doris Day. Mom used to sing that to us when we were kids. So, this one's a winner too. I usually sing it when we're doing the big wash up in the bathroom each morning. Helps us both, really.
There's a little irony in the title of those songs, don't you think?
I took mom with me over to the high school track, to give Dad some space. I ran around the soccer fields while she watched me from the van. Stopping by her window at every lap, to reasure her she wasn't alone. We did ok. But, while I was running, she was sure her mom and sisters came by and spoke to her. She was so happy.
And said they were all up at the house (supposedly) waiting for us. I went along with it. Fortunately, she forgot by the time we got home. I was worried she was going to be very disappointed. But I got lucky.
Here's a little bonus about Alzheimer's people. Since many of them don't remember the last 15 minutes, some things can be a repetitive surprise. As with my mom. She's often smiling at me affectionately, asking, "Where have you been? I've missed you? Will you stay with me?"
That's pretty cool in my book. It's kind of like the movie, "50 First Dates", only different.
Talk to you soon.
xoxo Kristine
Mom tells us often that she wants to go home. And when we say, "this is your home, Mom", she gets frustrated. So, I told my dad to try and change her context. My trick is to turn on some Dean Martin tunes, and break out the peanut butter and graham crackers. Usually that works. Thank goodness he tried it. Otherwise, he would have asked me to come home early.
Theraputically speaking, I get really good results with songs such as, "Welcome To My World", and "Ain't That a Kick in the Head", by Dean Martin. They are perfect songs for my mom. She remembers them a little, and tries to form the words and sing along.
Another big hit is, "Que sera sera" (Whatever Will Be Will Be), by Doris Day. Mom used to sing that to us when we were kids. So, this one's a winner too. I usually sing it when we're doing the big wash up in the bathroom each morning. Helps us both, really.
There's a little irony in the title of those songs, don't you think?
I took mom with me over to the high school track, to give Dad some space. I ran around the soccer fields while she watched me from the van. Stopping by her window at every lap, to reasure her she wasn't alone. We did ok. But, while I was running, she was sure her mom and sisters came by and spoke to her. She was so happy.
And said they were all up at the house (supposedly) waiting for us. I went along with it. Fortunately, she forgot by the time we got home. I was worried she was going to be very disappointed. But I got lucky.
Here's a little bonus about Alzheimer's people. Since many of them don't remember the last 15 minutes, some things can be a repetitive surprise. As with my mom. She's often smiling at me affectionately, asking, "Where have you been? I've missed you? Will you stay with me?"
That's pretty cool in my book. It's kind of like the movie, "50 First Dates", only different.
Talk to you soon.
xoxo Kristine
Drifting
My mom is calling me Gigi today. Not sure why, but I respond.
I made her peanut butter on graham crackers with grapes on the side.
She loves peanut butter.
I've completed the usual morning routine, coaching her as she takes her meds, 11 pills in all,
not including the fish oil, flax oil and calcium that my dad supplements.
She forgets between each pill what she is supposed to do.
So I tell her, "place this one on your tongue, don't chew it, now take a sip of water to rinse it down."
I'm worried she is going to try and chew the fish oil. That will make us both gag.
I applied for a job with the Alzheirmer's Association for the Help Hotline.
It pays $15.00 per hour and I was thinking I could do it from home. I'm a perfect candidate. When people call, I will tell them, from my own personal experience, to forget about any kind of assistance, its a joke, and just start drinking. It truly is just a cruel cruel joke.
Ever work with Depends? Ever notice the enginuity of the undergarments for adults? Facinating.
No wonder that fatal attraction astronaut drove across county after her man wearing diapers.
They really keep you feeling dry. (Truth, if one of you ever has the opportunity to have to diaper one of your parents --feel free to contact me. I'll be there to talk you through it.)
I had a nice weekend. I left town on Friday afternoon and drove to my beach house at break-neck speed, with my painting supplies in tow. I spread everything out in the garage, including my giant black leather portfolio containing works from over 15 years ago. Nothing rang my sentimental bell though. So, I'm thinking of dropping the whole thing off at the Rag-N-Bone (it's like the Goodwill) in Seaside. Maybe someone can use the portfolio. Then, I popeed in some some Dave Mathews, poured a little glass of wine diluted with water (because I really don't want to become an alcoholic), set up a canvas and began to paint. It felt pretty good.
Oh, I must tell you. On my walk to the beach Sunday morning, a beautiful bald eagle flew beside me. He was only 4 or 5 yards away from me, at shoulder level. I was awe struck. It seemed like a gigantic gift in some way. I just know if I were Native American I would understand the meaning. And that is how I drove back to Portland on Sunday, remembering the eagle and feeling blessed.
I hope all of you have a great week. Its going to be beautiful.
xoxo Kristine
I made her peanut butter on graham crackers with grapes on the side.
She loves peanut butter.
I've completed the usual morning routine, coaching her as she takes her meds, 11 pills in all,
not including the fish oil, flax oil and calcium that my dad supplements.
She forgets between each pill what she is supposed to do.
So I tell her, "place this one on your tongue, don't chew it, now take a sip of water to rinse it down."
I'm worried she is going to try and chew the fish oil. That will make us both gag.
I applied for a job with the Alzheirmer's Association for the Help Hotline.
It pays $15.00 per hour and I was thinking I could do it from home. I'm a perfect candidate. When people call, I will tell them, from my own personal experience, to forget about any kind of assistance, its a joke, and just start drinking. It truly is just a cruel cruel joke.
Ever work with Depends? Ever notice the enginuity of the undergarments for adults? Facinating.
No wonder that fatal attraction astronaut drove across county after her man wearing diapers.
They really keep you feeling dry. (Truth, if one of you ever has the opportunity to have to diaper one of your parents --feel free to contact me. I'll be there to talk you through it.)
I had a nice weekend. I left town on Friday afternoon and drove to my beach house at break-neck speed, with my painting supplies in tow. I spread everything out in the garage, including my giant black leather portfolio containing works from over 15 years ago. Nothing rang my sentimental bell though. So, I'm thinking of dropping the whole thing off at the Rag-N-Bone (it's like the Goodwill) in Seaside. Maybe someone can use the portfolio. Then, I popeed in some some Dave Mathews, poured a little glass of wine diluted with water (because I really don't want to become an alcoholic), set up a canvas and began to paint. It felt pretty good.
Oh, I must tell you. On my walk to the beach Sunday morning, a beautiful bald eagle flew beside me. He was only 4 or 5 yards away from me, at shoulder level. I was awe struck. It seemed like a gigantic gift in some way. I just know if I were Native American I would understand the meaning. And that is how I drove back to Portland on Sunday, remembering the eagle and feeling blessed.
I hope all of you have a great week. Its going to be beautiful.
xoxo Kristine
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