Posted on by Chasing Worms

Loving

Sitting here tonight, grandbaby number twelve came into this world. I am so excited for our youngest son and his wife.

This little, tiny human being I love so much and yet I don’t even know her yet. I love all my grandchildren equally so. I hurt when they hurt. I’m excited for every little accomplishment they make…every new step, and new word; every achievement in school and award.

I’m amazed how much love one can have in their heart. Parents, siblings, children, grandchildren, close friends, relatives…..We love them all, though it may be different, we still love them. Even with all that love, our hearts are deep enough and have the capacity to love more. That’s pretty amazing to me.

Life has taught me to open up and give love. And when we open up to love, we also open up to receiving love. You can’t have one without the other. That’s the deal. It’s like the wheel that keeps on turning, and the momentum keeps moving with the love you give.

There are a lot of things that can make us mad, every day, but there are even more things to be grateful for and to smile about.

I’m feeling pretty blessed.

Posted on by Chasing Worms

A Life Set Aside

I watched a film tonight about a man who moved back home to take care of his father who had Alzheimers. The son was so upset at his dad because he forgot some of the most basic things, like putting on his pants before going outside, brushing his teeth or combing his hair. I watched as he screamed at his dad, held him down and berated him for his stupidity.

All this brought back memories of friends who went through the same frustrations trying to manage a parent in different stages of Alzheimers. I remember thinking, how sad they would feel so resentful of their parent for getting ill.

Those same grown-up kids were once the child, and I’m sure it was very disrupting for their parents as well. Have they thought about that? When it gets hard feeding their parents, changing their clothes, and watching over them, those children throw up their hands and put the parent in a nursing home to let someone else manage the responsibilities. Sometimes it is the best thing, but not always, and in a lot of situations the kids never come back to visit once they have “unloaded” the parent.

I read somewhere that the average lifespan of someone once they go into a nursing home is 1.5 years. In other words, they  just wait to die. That tugs at my heart. I worked in a nursing home when I was young. The work was hard but the rewards were great. The elderly people I took care of, would love to tell me stories of their life.   A couple of ladies crocheted ribbons for my hair and loved playing cards. Mostly, they all just loved having company and being able to interact with other people.

I thought of my own aunt who had been placed in a nursing home by her husband, and he also checked himself in, because he didn’t want to be without her. He just found it difficult to take care of her on his own since she had suffered a stroke. They still got to be together every day. The kids never came to visit. I lived so far away, that I could only see them every 5-6 months. One day, just little more than a year after being in the nursing home, her husband died of a heart attack. No one expected that. My aunt out lived her husband by one year and every time I would visit, she cried.  The time was spent comforting her.   She was lonely and missed him terribly, she wanted to go “home” to be be with him.  Even though I did very little talking on those visits, she got so much from me just being there.  Usually by the time I had to leave, she was smiling and laughing again.

I don’t know where I’m going with this but I hope I would not do that to my mother. She can be stubborn, and luckily she is still healthy as a horse, but the only thing she wants, is for her children to respect her decisions she makes for herself, and to not treat her like a little kid. That’s a pretty simple request.

What would it have been like, had our parents thrown up their hands when we were babies, or toddlers and given us to someone else, because they were tired of dirty diapers, midnight feedings, crying and everything else that little ones demand? How many times do you suppose they were tired and felt their life would never be the same? How many times do you suppose one or both of them cried because they felt like they reached their breaking point? Even if they reached the end of their “rope” they never gave up, and they continued to love you and care for you because they wanted you to have the best life they could imagine for you.

I know taking care of an elderly parent is hard. I went through that with a sick parent. It’s very hard. The thing that helped me get through the tough days was when I tried to put myself in their shoes, and wonder how my attitude would be if I were in pain every day, or if I went through days wondering why I couldn’t remember anything from one moment to the next. How terrifying that would be. I can’t imagine adding more stress on to a parent because my impatience and selfishness couldn’t take it any more.

I can only hope that as I get older, I pray that those I love, will have the patience and love to help me cope, and to not give up on me.

Posted on by Chasing Worms

Pondering Life and Memories

I find that as I get older, moments and memories have so much more meaning to me, if that’s at all possible. I have always had my heart on my sleeve or so I’ve been told. I’m an open book. There’s no guessing how I feel about something; even if I don’t verbalize it you can see it written all over my face.

In twenty-four hours I’m face to face with the reality of life and death. Yesterday I mourned the first anniversary of a good friend’s death. She was my best friend through junior high school (where we met), and high school. I was her maid of honor at her wedding. We both love art. And that’s how we got so close. All through school, we took the same art classes, talked about it on the phone; we even sold our art work when we could. We weren’t the most popular in school….actually we weren’t popular at all, more like a little on the “nerdy” side but not to the point where people didn’t want to hang around us.

It was the days of maxi dresses, long straight hair, Gremlin cars, and rock and roll. When our friends were cutting class and going down to the river for fun, drinking and skinny dipping; Patti and I would be sitting in classes with our “nose to the canvas” you might say.

Our favorite class of course was our art class with Miss Pollack. She must have seen some promise in our art work, because Miss Pollack applied for scholarships to the University of Kansas Summer Art Program for us. Maybe it was just our enthusiasm that made her do it. In any case, the University gave us partial scholarships, so that meant we had to raise the money to cover the rest of the tuition. Patti and I worked hard, after school and on weekends. We had cupcake sales outside of the grocery store in town and sold our art work, in an effort to raise the tuition. In short, Patti ended up going to Kansas and I didn’t, but she left promising to bring back her books and tell me everything she learned. Patti kept her promise like a true friend. It was a great summer.

Like most people after graduating high school, we all went our separate ways, but Patti and I kept in touch. Not as much as either of us would like but when we did talk again or visit, it was like we had never been apart. Patti pursued her art while raising a family and I gave mine up for a lot of years until my children were grown and then I rekindled my love for art. Now Patti is gone, way too young and I miss her and the times we talked. Patti had three loves; her children, her husband and her art. She loved talking about all three. Patti was a beautiful person, inside and out and it transcended through her art work. I find my heart has an empty place that she filled.

With the over whelming emotions of missing Patti last night, I woke this morning to a new blog posted by another friend; one much younger who is just starting this life journey with her new husband and now a baby. I find myself welling up with emotion again as I read her blog and see how she is growing and experiencing all the feelings that new mother’s feel about their children. It’s a feeling you don’t understand until you become a mother. You never understand the human capacity to love until you have children.

Even if I were just an observer…which really that’s all we are…I realize those familiar things in my life are passing buy, including the people.  It’s like watching my life pass by in slow motion and all those little things that were significant moments for me are gone.  It makes me feel very melancholy.  At the same time I’m so excited about all the new babies being born, and watching young people starting out on their own journey.  Life continues to be born in various ways all around us, and other seasons pass away silently but not without mourning.  Life always gives way to life.  What matters is what you do with that journey and how many memories you make and leave behind.