Sitting In The Front Row

My friends and I get together from time to time just to catch up on each other's lives and do something fun. This Christmas, one of the girls hosted a Christmas lunch. The food was fabulous (I just love her desserts) and the camaraderie is always amazing.  

Most of us are grandmothers and we spent time sharing pictures and stories as we began to talk about growing older in the 21st century.  We all agreed that our lives do not resemble that of our mothers or grandmothers at the same age. I attribute this to the fact that our ancestors fought a battle that would allow women to be recognized as something more than domesticated goddesses.  The women who walked before us fought for equality which resulted in creating opportunities for my generation that our mothers and grandmothers didn't have. 

Women who choose to stay home and raise a family need to be applauded.  Being a full time wife and mother is not for the faint of heart and, unless someone actually experiences what it means to be a stay at home parent,  most people will fail to understand the sacrifices that someone must make in their own lives to stay home and raise children full time.  However, any woman who lives her life as a housewife and mother should be living this life because she wants to, not because she has no other options. The freedom to choose is what the women who went before us fought so hard to achieve. Perhaps this is why I find it troubling when I hear major players in the market, like Abercrombie,  make comments that relate a woman's value to the circumference of her waistline or when I read an article that alludes to the fact that a woman needs to be in a relationship to be complete.

Why should one's life be limited because of one's gender, size, age, or marital status?  What actually  limits any person is the perception we have of ourselves.  As we were cleaning out my mother's house, I was happy to see some unfinished projects to be sold or giving away.  Aside from the multitude of trophies and awards mom had for her music, there were unfinished projects next to her sewing machine. Next to her kiln there were some unfired ceramics and on a table nearby was her lapidary saw with some rocks that needed to be polished. I admire the fact that my mother did not sit at home waiting for life to happen.  Although she never ventured far from her own community, she was constantly trying something new, living life to the fullest.  I  admire her for that.

For myself, I don't want to sit in the back row trying to be invisible. I want to be in the front row, taking the risk of being seen for just who I am, so I can experience all that life has to offer.  My gender is not going to limit me from living.  A friend of mine said that when she leaves this earth there will be an unfinished quilt and an unfinished book.  For myself, there will definitely be an unfinished book, a project underway, and  a photo album filled with pictures of my adventures.

Her Name is Harriett. I Call Her Mom

Her name is  Harriett. I call her mom.  Mom  remembers me, she remembers her name, but other memories can be elusive for her.  Each visit is a gamble because I never know how much of my mother will be waiting for me when I arrive.

I always feel a level of tension when I am driving to see my mother.  The visit  today was ideal but there is no guarantee that mom's mind will be clear.  Mom always remembers who I am but there are times when she struggles to hold onto memories of what occurred just minutes before.  Those visits  can be emotionally draining.

After work today,  I stopped by to pick up my mother's laundry and make a shopping list.  I was able to enjoy a nice conversation with my mother about dinner, breakfast, and a new friend she had made.  She remembered my job, my recent promotion, she asked about the family, she told me how happy she is in her new apartment and how much she misses her garden.  This is one of the good visits. In fact, this was a great visit.

Yet, even when mom demonstrates some level of clarity, my mother's memory is not complete.  This evening she asked why she had a special diet and stomach issues.  "Because they removed part of your colon when you had colon cancer." I told her.  She  was shocked and asked me "When did I have colon cancer?"  Her statement saddened me because my mother is a two time cancer survivor.  Mom won a battle with breast cancer when I was very young and survived an advanced stage of colon cancer about 25 years ago. She doesn't remember either one.  Mom also has a degree in music and is a skilled pianist but there are days when she doesn't remember that either. 

Sometimes it is necessary to take mom out of her familiar surroundings but these adventures are not easy. I only take her to familiar places but she becomes agitated if we are out too long, refusing to let me out of her sight. When I take her back to her residence, it takes a long time before she recognizes that she is home so I need to stay with her until things feel routine and comfortable again.

I feel blessed that she always remembers me but it is becoming all too routine for her to ask me "How many children do I have?"  When her memory is cloudy like this we name my siblings and their birth order until she nods her head and says "Yes, I remember now." 

My mother understands that she has memory problems and she is comfortable telling me when she struggles to remember something. I think that her ability to trust those who are caring for her helps to alleviate some of her anxiety.  In spite of her trust,  the unfamiliar can be very difficult for her.   I try to avoid taking her away from her familiar surroundings but this creates an additional challenges at holiday time. 

As difficult as this is, I am grateful that I have an opportunity to reconnect and put the angst of the past behind me.   I dread the day that mom will struggle to remember me but it breaks my heart as I watch the feisty woman I have known all of my life disappear into that black hole of memory loss.  I am terrified, for both of us, because I know that one day mom could sink into that black hole and never come back.

People try to understand what we are going through, and they are supportive, but this is something that has to be experienced to be understood.   I am helpless.  All I can do is be there and watch as the essence of my mother slowly fades. I hope that they find a cure for Alzheimer Disease so others will never need to make this journey but the reality is that one day my mother... this woman named Harriett.... could be lost forever as Alzheimer Disease robs her of every memory until only a blank page remains where a vibrant mind used to be.

 

 

The Dazzle Of The Season

 I remember when the holiday season officially kicked off with Thanksgiving. Now the malls now are selling Christmas ornaments and playing Christmas Carols on Labor Day which makes me wonder; when did they change the date?

 

Now that Thanksgiving is behind us, the focus is now on shopping and decorating.   I know that Christmas is not about the decorations or presents but there have previous holidays when I became so distracted with my ‘to do’ list that I failed to keep my focus on the real meaning of Christmas.  Yet, in my defense, it is easy to become distracted when we are simultaneously spoon fed images of driving to grandmother’s house through the pristine white snow while every advertisement tries to sell the idea that we need to dazzle everyone with our own personal presentation of Christmas.  This time of year people are inundated with images of the clothes we should wear and the presents we need to give. It can be so exhausting!

 

As I was creating my holiday ‘to do’ list, I was again feeling the obligation to “dazzle”  until I walked out of my office and saw a homeless man sitting on the corner nearby.  Since I work in the heart of the city, it is not unusual to see homeless people but this particular homeless man caught my attention because a few years ago, at holiday time,  something he did changed my perspective.  It was a time when I had set high expectations for myself to dazzle and wasn't taking time to actually enjoy the holiday. One afternoon I took a break to watch a festival held close to where I work. One vendor was handing out free T-shirts  and that evening, as I walked to the parking garage, I saw that same homeless man handing out some of those free T-Shirts to other homeless people so they would have an extra layer of clothing to keep themselves warm.  It was very cold that day and he only wore a T-shirt over a long sleeve shirt covered by a thin jacket. I could tell he was cold but, instead of creating extra layers for himself, he shared with others who had even less.   When I got to my car in the parking garage that evening, I looked across the horizon and saw a cross from a nearby church glowing against the night sky.  I was gently reminded that Christmas is not about the dazzle or commitments.  Christmas is about love.

 

This evening, as I arrived at the parking garage, I looked across the horizon at the beautiful sunset and saw that cross rising above the skyline.  That cross was lit, glowing against a backdrop of a red sunset, a reminder that Christmas is about the kind of brotherly love which was demonstrated by a homeless man sharing with the less fortunate when he himself had nothing.  The holiday season is about Christ, family, friends, and love for our fellow man.  I no longer feel the pressure to dazzle which frees me to focus on the true spirit of the holiday. 

 

 

To be honest, I know I will still try to dazzle, but not out of any sense of obligation to do so.  The dazzle in the holiday is now part of the fun while the focus is on the love.  I personally think that the Lord showed me these reminders now because, being the wise omnipotent entity that he is, he realized that  he should just get ahead of the game this year  and remind me to keep my focus on the true meaning of the holiday season before I become too engrossed in the dazzle and commitments.  Instead of over committing myself in an attempt to exceed the expectations of the season,  I am scheduling only the commitments that matter.   In other words, this year it is quality over quantity and the focus is on love.

 

Merry Christmas.