Finding Balance

Life has a way of forcing us to reevaluate our perspective every so often.  My schedule is stretched thin these days and I find myself trying to multi task just to keep up.  On a weekday I leave the house early and I am lucky to arrive home before dark with no time in between for personal tasks. Weekends are the only time that I have to do errands and chores. A few Saturdays ago I sat down with my coffee and then I just couldn't get started with my to do list.  I needed to dust and vacuum but I literally could not get off of the couch so I ended up reading a book that had been sitting on my night table, finishing it in a single day. 

A few days later I talked to a friend about feeling stuck and my inability to start my day.   I told her that my lack of motivation on that day was so unsettling that I was thinking about seeing a counselor.  "You don't seem depressed or anything.  Are you depressed?" She asks me.  I told her that I wasn't depressed but I was just having a hard time juggling my 'to do' list and it frustrated me because lately I struggle just  to get started.  She pointed out that a few years ago my life had some semblance of balance so I would schedule time for myself but lately she hasn't seen me factoring time for myself into the equation.  "It almost seems like you feel guilty about taking time out for yourself anymore and you shouldn't. Maybe you just needed that time."   Another friend recently pointed out that some of the people I compare myself to have two people sharing the responsibilities while  I am doing the same amount of work with half of the manpower and even less time. After talking through this with my friends,  I realized how grateful I am for my friends. My friends are my support system but they are also my mirrors.  They force me to look at my life through different eyes.


After that conversation it occurred to me that I couldn't get off the couch to start my chores that Saturday because my spirit just needed a vacation from my 'to do' list.  For many years I was a perfectionist but perfectionism just doesn't fit in with my lifestyle right now.  I need to simply keep my focus on keeping things clean and organized while  the additional projects are broken down into smaller steps that may take a little longer. As a result, I am happy again, my life has more balance, and I have freed myself to focus on what is truly important.

Whatever The Day Brings

I don't know how to reply to some of the comments I hear from people who do not understand what it is to care for an aging parent with Alzheimer Disease.  One person told me recently that a person with Alzheimer Disease should always be happy because they have no stress. That statement is reflective of the misconception so many people have about this disease.  There is no way to explain the impact Alzheimer Disease has on it's victim or on the families.  With Alzheimer Disease, the victim dies twice.  The first death occurs as they fade into a shadow of the person that they were but it doesn't stop there.  Eventually they cannot remember how to swallow,  talk, breathe and then the body shuts down until they experience a physical death.

I go to see mom several times a week to do her laundry, shopping, and take her for hair cuts etc.  A few weeks ago I arrived and she was very upset because she could not find my father. She said that she had been looking for him everywhere but she couldn't remember where to find him. I sat her down and gently told her that dad passed away twenty five years ago and then let her cry on my shoulder as she grieved all over again.  A few days ago she was upset because my brother hadn't called. Again I had to gently explain that he passed away in 1997.  Once again I just sat by and supported her as she grieved for  a son who died sixteen years before.  Finally she looked up at  me and said, "I know my memory isn't good but I think sometimes we forget some things because they hurt the most."  I cried all the way home both times. 

Of course there are other  times when I can't help but smile.  Recently, my sister put together a small photo album for mom so she can continuously see the faces of her family.  I thought this was a wonderful idea so I brought over a box of pictures. Mom and I went through the photos and she selected a few photos that she wanted to put out in frames.  A few days later I found some nice  frames and purchased them for the photos she had chosen as her favorites.  On my next visit mom helped me put the photos in the frames and she then placed them throughout her apartment.  Once we were finished, my mother got up to get something and, as she reentered the room, she spotted one of the frames that she had just helped me with.  She got so excited and joyfully exclaimed “Where did that come from! How wonderful!”  She went to the table where the picture was sitting and talked about the day the picture was taken. She was completely oblivious to the fact that she helped me put the photo in the frame just moments before.  As she turned from the table she saw one of the other pictures sitting in a different part of the room and joyfully exclaimed “Where did that come from! How wonderful!”  She then went to the table where that picture was sitting and talked endlessly about that picture and as began to walk back toward the couch she saw the first picture and was absolutely delighted as she said “Where did that come from!  This is wonderful!”  I sat back and happily watched the pleasure in her face  as she discovered the same pictures repeatedly for the first time over and over again. I decided that the picture frames were a wise investment because this will both entertain and bring her joy for days.  I smiled all of the way home.

As I watch my mother make this journey with Alzheimer Disease it reminds me of taking a solitary walk on a cloudy day.  There are no guarantees of what the day will bring.  I could get rain, I could get rainbows, or I maybe I will simply find a small measure of joy watching my mother get excited as she gets the first glimpse of a family photo for the hundredth time that day.

 

 

 

 

Musings On My Faith

 

There is an old Indian proverb about two wolves.  It says that there are 2 wolves inside every person.  One is full of evil wanting to kill, destroy and devour anything it can.  The other is full of love wanting to look after the weak and take care of the less fortunate.  The one that grows is the one you feed.

I was recently engaged in a disturbing conversation with a woman I know who was sharing concerns about a dilemma with her college age daughter.  The daughter's childhood friend is not as involved in her church and had become too involved in worldly activities. All of the friends that they had grown up with in the church no longer wanted to associate with the friend.  The friend was judged and gossiped about until the friend became depressed, withdrew from all social activities, stopped going to church, and eventually tried to commit suicide.  Fortunately, the suicide attempt failed and the girl was sent to spend time with her aunt.  The daughter no longer spends much time with the friend but still talks to her on the phone. This woman wants her daughter to completely cut the other girl out of her life and is upset because the daughter doesn't see the logic.  I suggested that the daughter is doing the right thing by not shutting her out.  It is important to let the friend know that, although her daughter won't engage in the same behavior, she still cares. This woman began to quote bits and bobs of scripture and stated that  she only surrounds herself with true Christians because the bible says .......
 I didn't let her finish.  I excused myself and walked away because this is the type of Christian that I try to avoid.

 

I like your Christ, I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ.
Mahatma Gandhi

 

The conversation struck a nerve because I was ostracized in my youth for not living a life that met the standards of the church I was raised in.  Although I am a Christian with a strong faith, I am not someone who discusses my religious beliefs often. However, this woman's attitude has been weighing on my heart because  I have witnessed first hand the damage that the inflexible and judgmental type of faith can do.  Today I only go to church on occasion and remain skeptical about organized religion. I do not believe that salvation will be attained solely through the teachings of any earthly man, I do not believe that one finds God through tithes or through scripture memorization,  and I do not believe that salvation is limited to the space within the walls of a brick and mortar building. I do, however, believe that God is everywhere, that he is omnipotent, that he loves us,  and that everything happens for a reason. I also believe that God created people of all colors, genders, beliefs, and ethnicities so when I hear someone denounce any one  person or any one group of people I see it as blasphemy because God does not make mistakes.  I  believe that we were meant to struggle sometimes, we were meant to be challenged,  and we are intentionally tested.  God expects us to fail from time to time.  How one emerges from these challenges is between that person and God.  It is not my place to judge.  If we are were never challenged then how could we grow, become empathetic to the suffering of others,  and how could we learn what life is like outside of our own perfect little world until we experience it?

"When you think about Christianity if you think ‘condemnation’ instead of ‘salvation’ you’re not thinking biblically." Pastor Mark.

 

My pet peeve, and the reason I have not actually joined a church, is that some Christians are so busy judging other people in the name of Christianity that they forget to address their own shortcomings. There are many wonderful Christian people who I greatly admire but there are a few folks that make me wish that they would just take the fish off of their cars.

I have questioned my own faith in the past, but that only served to strengthen my faith in God.  What I appreciate about Christianity is the fact that the teachings of Jesus acknowledges the fact that mankind is imperfect. The bible tells us that no one is exempt from sin.  While the bible points out that man is imperfect, the stories in the bible demonstrate that a potential for greatness exists in everyone. We are not expected to be perfect but we need to be genuinely remorseful and ask forgiveness when we make a mistake.  Therefore, since we are all sinners  we have no business judging others. 

 

In Christianity, evil isn’t something that simply exists “out there” among thieves and murderers and meth makers. No, Christianity teaches the hard truth that the evil we observe in the world is also present within ourselves.

Racism, greed, misogyny, hatred, violence, inequity, selfishness, and pride all take shape within the human heart, so if we’re going to tackle injustice in the world, we have to start with ourselves. Christianity rejects the idea that we’re all okay.

The good news is that liberation comes not from climbing some holy ladder to try and escape sin on our own, nor from wallowing in shame and self-hatred because of it, but receiving the grace of God through Jesus and extending that grace to others.

This process begins with naming the evil within us and turning away from it—a process called repentance. 

 

Rachel Held Evans.
 

Some Christians live in a state of denial and, as a result, end up living with a fear of actually living.   I do not believe that God created us to be inflexible or to live in fear of the differences and  I believe that God wants us to succeed, he simply doesn't want us to succeed at the expense of someone else's suffering. This is marketing 101.  Whose voice will reach more people, the homeless man on the street or the CEO of a large corporation?  The bible states an expectation to share his word, to help the needy, and keep God first in our heart.  When things do not go as planned I believe that it is because we have something to learn, we have someone to meet, or we are simply not going in the direction God wants us to go.  Every life experience, and every mistake, carries a lesson. Not everyone can be the head of a corporation but, if we have faith, God will give us a fulfilling life.

 

 

Judaism is not so foolish or unworldly as to pretend that success does not also include worldly accomplishment. To build a business, invent a product, cure a patient, win a lawsuit -- all of these and more can also be reckoned success. It does no credit to life of the spirit to pretend that things of this world are trivial. We are cautioned against sacrificing soul growth to money, but also need not disdain things of this world to climb a mountaintop and live on elderberries. Turning your back on life is not a higher way to live; it is a premature way to die.

 

Rabbi David Wolpe

 

 I understand the importance of spending time with others who share the same values but that is not an excuse for turning one's back on someone who is struggling. My Christian faith teaches me to help others in need and to love my neighbor, not cut them out of my life.  The walls that people erect to segregate their group of believers from those who they perceive as flawed are not acknowledging the sin within themselves.  This seems to end up creating a breeding ground for the narrow minded attitudes that often repel people away from Christianity. I find this disappointing because I wish that everyone could see that Faith in God is about love, charity, faith, witness, and repentance.  Each religion is different but they all honor the same God. Steve Jobs said that "Different religions are all the just different entrances to the same house." 

I want the way I live my life, and my response to any life challenge, to reflect these basic Christian truths. Turning my back on a friend who is struggling is not what my faith teaches and it is not how I would respond.  The woman I mentioned can quote all of the bits and bobs of scripture that she has  ever memorized.  I simply  do not support her view.



 

Admissions

I recently read a book titled 'Admissions.'  A friend of mine loved the book and talked about it for weeks so, even though this type of read isn't what I normally reach for, a few weeks ago I was able to download the book onto my tablet for less than what I pay  for my coffee at Starbucks.   It turned out that I loved the book but the story started out so slowly that I began to have doubts about my ability to finish it. However, it was well worth reading about the incredibly boring life of the main character because those first few chapters actually set the stage for an very engaging story. The book is about a woman who was hurt once so she lived her life cautiously without taking risks and at middle age realized how much she had been missing. Although the book was very well written, as the author wove a story about the main character's daily life I struggled to understand why anyone would choose to live such Vanilla life when there are so many other flavors of living to explore.  Then it occurred to me that over the last year I have compartmentalized my own life into a series of  duties and my life was sounding very similar to the character of this story.


There have been a few other times in my life that I avoided going outside of my comfort zone for one reason or another, but I  eventually realized that my life had become a little too routine so I then made it a point to explore the adventures that waited just beyond those boundaries.   This is one of those times.




The book was a reminder to me but my inspiration actually came from a surprising source.  Over the last year I have spent a lot of time with my mother and  the people in mom's assisted living. What I noticed is that the people that are thriving are the adventurous ones  while those who are afraid to  reach beyond their comfort zone seem to  be withering away.  I found  inspiration for my own life by watching those who are in the final stage of theirs.  Grey hair, no hair, canes and wheelchairs they are still vibrant,  adventurous, not deterred by their setbacks.  My mother is a very social woman so she too is thriving now. This community has not only revived mom's spirit, it has also inspired me. With each visit I see something that makes me smile whether it be a group of elderly men dressed in fishing clothes with lures hanging from their hats, fishing poles balanced in one hand and a cane in the other while those confined to wheelchairs carry the tackle boxes as they slowly make their way to a shuttle which will take them to the lake for their weekly fishing trip.  There are a few ladies who like to race the elevators to see which one gets to the top floor first and I wasn't surprised to find that they were taking bets on the winner.  A few weeks ago I couldn't find my mother. The caregivers told me that she and her friends were on the patio having wine. When I found them I joined in for a chat and asked mom "What is in your glass?"   She looked guilty and said "Kool Aid?"  I just laughed and told her "Your doctor said an occasional glass of wine is OK. Enjoy your wine."  Her friend then pointed to her walker and said "We just need to be careful not to get caught when we drink and drive." 

 

 I always envisioned a senior center to be a series of crafts and Bingo games but I didn't want that for my mother. The residence where my mom lives has a very active social group and  what inspires me is that I have not seen a Bingo card yet.

Watching a group of seniors relish the fun in life in spite of their setbacks has been inspiring.  The book was a reminder that emotional walls are built to keep the things we fear out, but they can also hold us hostage in a Vanilla world.  So, I have made it a point to do a few things outside of my comfort zone.  I went on a date or two, signed up for a class, went out with the girls on a weeknight, began to plan a vacation for myself, and I am making time to volunteer. For the first time in a long time I feel like myself again thanks to a great read and some feisty senior citizens.

 

Those Could ..Shoulda... Woulda... Moments

The news sometimes makes me feel as though we have created a society full of professional victims. The Martin/Zimmerman trial is a perfect example.  What was a series of unfortunate choices ended the life of a young man.  Zimmerman should not have tried to follow Martin but Martin was not a blameless victim either. Yet some people are trying to use race as the motivator and the media is jumping on the band wagon to make it headline news because this is a very marketable story.

The truth is that everyone will experience being a victim at some point in their life, this title isn't unique to one gender or one ethnic group. While it is true that the African Americans were made victims by money hungry land owners  weren't the American Indians equally victimized?  The  Scottish people were victims when Britain took their land and stripped them of their culture, women were victims in their own right for years and they still are in some countries.  After reading the book 'The Killing Fields' we must include the Cambodians in our list of victims, do not forget the Vietnamese, the LBG community,  and I cannot forget to mention the Jews who were held captive, starved, tortured, and slaughtered by Hitler.   I have to ask myself, if Zimmerman were German and Martin were a Jew, what would the  headlines say?  What  I find disturbing is the fact that we have two people who each handled a situation poorly. The case was tried by a Jury and the Jury reached a verdict.Yet, instead of focusing on the fine line between murder and self defense, which is what this should be about, this has turned into a debate that focuses on racism. 

Every one will be a victim at some point in their lives.  History reminds that every group has been victimized at some point in history and everyone of us is at risk for experiencing a setback as we move through life. When bad things happen we are left with two choices, we can hold onto a bitterness that will eventually turn to hate or we can learn from our experiences then move forward with unstoppable resilience to make this world a better place.

 

 

'Cause yesterday's got nothin' for me
Old pictures that I'll always see
Some things could be better
In my book of memories
Prayers in my pocket
And no hand in destiny
I'll keep on movin' along
With no time to plant my feet

'Cause yesterday's got nothin' for me
Old pictures that I'll always see
Some things could be better
If we'd all just let them be

Guns N Roses

Yesterday

 

 

 

My life has not been perfect. I have had instances where I was the victim, life was unfair, bad things happened that I had no control over, or I made a mistake that I now regret.  However, we reap what we sow.  Dwelling on the "coulda..shoulda ...woulda" parts of the past is not only unproductive, these thoughts are like weeds that try to take over my garden.  Those who spend time wallowing in anger and bitterness could make better use of their emotion by telling their story in a way to make productive change.  We have the power to damn or to liberate ourselves by how we respond to the bad things in life.  Focusing on the bad things will hinder our progression but focusing on the possibilities is what will keep us moving in the right direction.

All of those bad things that happened in our history are tragic and really shouldn't have happened but no one can change the past.  All we can do now is to learn from history and then use unstoppable resilience to try and make a better future.  Happiness is a choice and my choice is to prevent those weeds from taking over my garden so I can create plenty of room for the flowers  to grow. 

Disclaimer:  If I  forgot to mention someone who is a victim in this writing then consider this my acknowledgement that, I didn't mean to contribute to your victimization by not acknowledging you  and I am sorry that I didn't bring attention to your "coulda..shoulda...woulda" moments.

Airports and Hospitals

Walking into the airport this afternoon I was filled with emotion.  Part of my emotional response came from a sense of sadness because my daughter was leaving and it will be quite some time before I will get to see her again.  However, even without my own personal drama, the two places that always touch some emotional part of me  are airports and hospitals.  After giving it some thought, I realized that these two places are the nucleus of constant change. It is at the Airport or the Hospital where someone important to me either came into my world or was removed from it.

My first memory of the airport was when my brother was being deployed to Vietnam. I was in kindergarten at the time and I didn't really understand what was happening. A few weeks later I went with my parents to see a movie and discovered the tragedies of war.  I had nightmares for days afterward.  To this day I still avoid war movies and the sight of a man in uniform boarding a plane makes my throat tighten with emotion. 

As a teenager my boyfriend joined the air force.  After taking him to the airport, and watching his plane lift off as he headed for boot camp,  I felt intensely sad watching someone I cared about leaving for an indefinite period of time.  I recall that I cried for some time after he left. When he got his first leave to return home, he stepped off the plane wearing a leisure suit that his mother had made for him. He had warned me ahead of time but that orange and green plaid suit with pants that were about three inches too short and the matching tie still made my jaw drop.  Although the relationship didn't last, the memory of that suit is still fresh in my mind.  It was a testament to his respect for his mother that he actually wore that suit in public.  Each time I pass the old airport terminal I smile as I remember that orange plaid suit.

While he was alive, my father in law would visit us once a year.  He would exit the ramp with his baseball cap that had a Blue Jay insignia on it.  As he approached he would try to mimic an American accent and say "Well...Hello Guys!"  I would laugh every single time.  It hurts to know  he is gone and that I will never again see that exit but I think of him each time I wait at the airport for someone to arrive or see a replica of his baseball cap. 

As I watched my beautiful daughter walk off to board her plane I stood for a moment silently watching and remembering.   Although my baby girl is a young woman now, in my mind I still sense the little girl who used to come with me to the airport skipping along beside me and talking nonstop. Her sweet smile and cheerful little voice helped ease the pain of the many goodbyes I had in  airport terminals and her enthusiasm made the arrivals just that much more exciting.

I suppose that watching my little girl, who is now a young woman, walk toward her gate is simply part of life's rite of passage.  We are born into the world only to spend the rest of our lives experiencing constant arrivals and departures before making our own permanent exit while that part in the middle remains at a place of constant change.  I am looking forward to the day that either my daughter or I will step off of the airplane ramp for our next greeting.  With each plane that I see fly overhead, I focus on this thought.  I miss her  and I look forward to that day more than she will ever know.

The Imprints We Leave Behind

This weekend is father's day but it is also my dad's birthday.  We celebrated by having a brunch at my house with my son and  his family. When I was young, my dad would let me stand on a chair and 'help' him cook.  This provided quality time with dad and by time I was about eight I knew my way around a kitchen fairly well. I did the same with my children, and now my granddaughter has her very own little pink stool so she can help me in the kitchen. My son's girlfriend has a two year old boy, who is like a grandson to me, and today he too wanted to help so we had to limit her help to clean up and setting the table.

After everyone left  I realized that my garbage disposal was jammed.  I spent an hour of tinkering with it and  finally decided that I may need to call a plumber.  As  I began to scoop out the standing water with a turkey baster, I noticed that the drain looked different.   I ran my fingers around the rim and then I could not keep the smile off of my face as I pulled out a child size glass with little daisies all over it which was wedged down inside of the drain opening.  It made me wonder if it had been put there by my favorite little  helper because when my granddaughter visits, she always leaves something behind. She told my daughter once that it was " to remind nanna that she was there and so nanna would know she was there."   I looked around the room and saw the napkins sitting at a crooked angle in the napkin holder where little James was trying to do his part. Little finger prints were on my glass doors.  I moved my orchid, which was a gift from my son a few months ago, and put it back on the table. Next I washed the cobalt blue glasses that were a gift from my daughter. Then I  looked around for the next chore and realized that I am surrounded by things that always remind me of the people I love, reminders that they have touched my life in wonderful ways.

For example, the egg dish I served in mom's crystal bowl was one of my dad's favorite and dad was the one who taught me to make the blueberry buttermilk pancakes.  I have wonderful memories of standing on a chair as my dad showed me how to tell when the batter was just right and how to know when the pancakes were done.  My buffet has a runner that my grandma made.  Grandma was gifted with needlework and this particular runner is a favorite of mine with embroidery that includes vibrant colors of blue, yellow, and bright pink with hand crocheted edging.  My napkin holder was a gift from my mom many years go.  It is hand blown glass with napkins in it that  have the same colors as the runner. There is also a set of salt and pepper shakers that a dear friend bought for me when she visited Europe. My son's girlfriend had commented on my unusual coffee mug, a mug that my children bought me over twenty years ago.

It isn't the items that mean so much, it is the memories that come with them.  Each person that has touched my life has left an imprint of their presence. The imprint of my children, grandchildren, parents, ancestors, and friends are everywhere in my home and in my life, evoking wonderful memories.  I can only hope that the imprint I leave on their lives will evoke happy memories of me long after I am gone.

Once the clean up was complete,  I walked into my room and  on my bathroom counter, right where I can't miss it,  sits a little pink princess crown.  It is my little angel's message "I was here nanna. Remember me."  ... as though I would ever forget.


Happy Birthday and Happy Father's day to my dad.  I wish I could thank him for the wonderful memories.   I wish he was here so I could leave a  pink crown on his counter and then he too would know that I was here and I am thinking of him always.