Perspective Changes

Interesting how one's perceptions of life change when an important person in one's life dies.

When my mom and dad died, I wrestled with how someone could be here today and gone tomorrow. Wondered where that energy went. Wonder where our time together went from my being a child, to a teenager, to a young adult, to a full grown adult (if one ever becomes full grown.)

I missed them. I grieved not only their death but what I considered the missed opportunities for parent/son relationships and how different it could have been if they were different, if I was different. 

Acknowledged that I was grateful for many opportunities they did provide and for the love that existed. Acknowledged that they did the best job of parenting that they could and that I did the best job of "offspringing" that I could.

Now, with Gregory's passing, my perceptions of time have been shifting and the shift has caused me to do some deeper thinking.

Gregory and I lived, and we worked at living well for twelve years, with his diagnosis of Dementia/Alzheimer's. At times our life felt normal and at times we also felt like we were living on a roller coaster as his needs confounded, our interactions became surreal, his abilities failed and resurfaced only to finally fail again.

Now when I think about those twelve years, it feels like minutes. At the time it felt like forever, but now that the confusion, frustration, anger, sorrow, fear, etc no longer exists, it feels like moments.

Gregory spent the last 18 months of his life at the Lieberman Center for Health and Rehabilitation on the Alzheimer's Special Care Unit. At the time it was a day in and day out activity. Grateful to Manny for providing not only care and safety for Gregory but also for the love, socialization, and life enrichment he provided on a day to day basis.

When Gregory's health needed extra attention or his medications needed rebalancing or when his difficult behaviors needed a look see; my life would feel topsy turvy. But once the Lieberman nurses, doctors, hospice care, and I did our problem solving; things settled down for both Gregory and me.

Now, with Gregory on his next adventure, without my daily visits, and the Care Conferences, and the monitoring of his daily needs and treatment;  it feels like Lieberman was but a breath.

During the three days it took Gregory to die, I saved many vivid, sometimes difficult and sometimes joyful, memories of the process. None-the-less it feels like those three days were shrouded by a certain numbness. 

The planning of two tributes for Gregory was easy. Gregory's Memorial at the condo (attended by over 100 family and friends) was gratifying and consoling as was the Lieberman Memorial to thank them for their care and support (attended by over 150 staff, residents, and families at Lieberman the following week.)

Now, when I think of Gregory, it feels like his dying was but an instant and at the same time that he has always been dead, when if fact it is just over two months since he died. Strange feeling - ALWAYS been dead.

The thoughts which next occupy my mind then ... based on Gregory and my twelve years seeming like a moment, and his Lieberman stay feeling like a breath, and his death feeling like not only an instant but also forever ... are that my life, now, will last just a few moments longer with the lesson being that I must live each day to its fullest doing things that matter to me, spreading joy and love whenever I can, and doing the best I can without being too unforgiving of myself and my weaknesses and being forgiving of others. 

• • •

In this thinking and these awarenesses, I focus on the buddhist teachings which explain that our suffering is based on permanent attachment to things which are ever changing. Nothing is permanent. 

Thus early Buddhism declares that in this world there is nothing that is fixed and permanent. Every thing is subject to change and alteration. "Decay is inherent in all component things," declared the Buddha and his followers accepted that existence was a flux, and a continuous becoming.

According to the teachings of the Buddha, life is comparable to a river. It is a progressive moment, a successive series of different moments, joining  together to give the impression of one continuous flow. It moves from cause to cause, effect to effect, one point to another, one state of existence to another, giving an outward impression that it is one continuous and unified movement, where as in reality it is not. The river of yesterday is not the same as the river of today. The river of this moment is not going to be the same as the river of the next moment. So does life. It changes continuously, becomes something or the other from moment to moment.

Take for example the life of an individual. It is a fallacy to believe that a person would remain the same person during his entire life time. He changes every moment. He actually lives and dies but for a moment, or lives and dies moment by moment, as each moment leads to the next. A person is what he is in the context of the time in which he exists. It is an illusion to believe that the person you have seen just now is the same as the person you are just now seeing or the person whom you are seeing now will be the same as the person you will see after a few moments. 

Even from a scientific point of view this is true. We know cell divisions take place in each living being continuously. Old cells in our bodies die and yield place continuously to the new ones that are forming. Like the waves in a sea, every moment, many thoughts arise and die in each individual . Psychologically and physically he is never the same all the time. Technically speaking, no individual is ever composed of the same amount of energy. Mental stuff and cellular material all the time. He is subject to change and the change is a continuous movement.

Impermanence and change are thus the undeniable truths of our existence. What is real is the existing moment, the present that is a product of the past, or a result of the previous causes and actions. Because of ignorance, an ordinary mind conceives them all to be part of one continuous reality. But in truth they are not.

The various stages in the life of a man, the childhood, the adulthood, the old age are not the same at any given time. The child is not the same when he grows up and becomes a young man, nor when the latter turns into an old man. The seed is not the tree, though it produces the tree, and the fruit is also not the tree, though it is produced by the tree.

Taken from: 

http://www.urbandharma.org/udharma8/imperm.htmlhttp://www.urbandharma.org/udharma8/imperm.html

Yoga for Loss and Grieving: Session 4 - Never Agains!

Missed last week's session 3. This week we worked on "Practice Intention" which was setting an intention for what might come out of today's session and "Life Long Desire," a more over time, life-long intention that we would like to consider.

For my "Intention," I set "Self-Forgiveness." Self-forgiveness for those times I didn't really understand what Gregory was going through as the effects of his Alzheimer's/ Dementia progressed. Self-Forgiveness for those times I could have done a better job if I was more aware of exactly it was that he was experiencing. Even though I did the best I could at the time, and even though I did a pretty terrific job, there is some grieving at not having been a better support to him, of getting angry with him, and at times of being downright mean to him!

While I have been beating myself up a little less as time has passed since Gregory died, I still wish I could have been better and obviously there is no way to go back in time to redo my behavior. I know that Gregory always forgave me and I was always able to quickly apologize; still the feelings and emotions linger of not ever again being able to make it right! That is one of the irrational side effects of death: the NEVER AGAIN syndrome!

For my "Life Long Desire," I set the idea of wondering what the rest of my life would be like and how I could spend it doing good for others.

Following the setting of the "Intention" and the "Desire" we let them drift into the background, as we continued our Yoga Nidra practice, knowing that we had acknowledged them but did not need to do anything about them or work on them. Just having noted them was enough for now.

Next, we visited our "Internal Resource" place, that place we can go to anytime we need to seek peace and comfort and safety. This time Gregory was not in bed but was waiting to greet me by the door. We hugged with great love and joy in a way that we had not hugged for a long long time due to his being in a wheelchair for over a year during his time at Lieberman. I wanted it to be real so it was, for a few moments real.

Again, like last session, while being in my Internal Resource place was beautiful, if was emotionally overwhelming. The realization was that hugging Gregory could only exist here, in my Internal Resource now and only in my imagination made me very sad (although I fancied that I was really hugging him and if I deemed it so, it was so!) Once again death waved the NEVER AGAIN flag. Hugging Gregory could exist in my memory but never again in real life. Somehow I will have to come to grips with this being enough for me.

I realized that while often I am happy and enjoying my new life without Gregory, the shadow of sadness still strongly fades every bright color that shines through the clouds. I cried silently so as not to disturb the other students or instructor in the class.

Slowly I drifted back to the rest of the practice with its breathing, its being aware of my body in relation to the floor and the air and the room. Slowly I returned to the calmness and peacefulness of the practice and for the time being left my sorrow behind. When it was time to slowly come back to reality, back to my body, back to the room with the other students, the tears flowed again but I gathered myself together, put my pillows and blankets and chair back in the store room, wished Corrine a "Thank You" and came home to write this post.

While I believe that I gained much from the session, I am aware that I am feeling somewhat numb and spent. I hope I will sleep well tonight.

The Beauty of Grief

The title for this post was suggested to me by a friend who is working through her father's Dementia/ Alzheimer's and trying to help her mother work with it as well. "I've been reading the blog, thinking of you and Gregory and my dad. You express your feelings so well. I would like to share some of the entries with my mom but I don't know if she'll be able to accept them. Thank you for ...sharing... the beauty of your grief," she said in a recent e-mail.

I do appreciate all comments added to the posts, separate e-mails people send, and sometimes the in person hugs. In this case her compliments mean a lot to me if only because she is not only a wonderful person but a Librarian, avid reader, story teller herself and one of most articulate, intelligent, world traveled people I know. So "beauty" coming from her to me regarding my blog means a lot!

Her use of the term "Beauty of Grief" caused me to want to sit down and think, in writing, about what that means to me.  
Grief | grēf | Noun. Deep sorrow, especially that caused by someone's death. Sorrow, misery, sadness, anguish, pain, distress, heartache, heartbreak, agony, torment, affliction, suffering, woe, desolation, dejections despair, mourning, bereavement, lamentation.

But beauty?

Actually, yes beauty. If one can allow oneself to see the beauty in grief and not just the loss. In loss there can be gratefulness as well, if one looks deep enough. Gregory has died. I am sad and at times my emotions resemble all the nouns listed above. But I also feel a sense of joy and yes beauty, when I allow myself to be grateful for the wonderful life he and I had together for 40 years. 

I feel good that he was able to be mostly calm and accepting of his Dementia/ Alzheimer's diagnosis and that we, together, were able to make his life joyful and full as we compensated for the changes the disease gave us. I am grateful that we enjoyed each other and our condo and our sexy Audi convertible, and living in downtown Evanston. 

Even with the diagnosis, we didn't lie down and die but rather hunkered down and kept going. We enjoyed cooking, entertaining, travel, theater, opera, family, and friends. For as long as he was able; he continued reading, doing crossword puzzles, taking walks, helping prepare meals, going shopping with me, helping around the house and with the pets. Slowly these abilities disappeared but he kept up the best he could and let them go with dignity while remaining content with what he was still able to do.

He trusted and deferred to me but more than that I trusted myself to take care of him when he needed it with regards to matters of home, health, finances, entertainment, etc. I didn't disrespect him by making decisions unilaterally or prematurely which would affect his life and his well being. Even though he usually let me take the lead, we continued to "operate" as a team in decision making. We continued to "fall in love" with each other more than ever.

The last phrase became one of our guideposts: MORE THAN EVER. It became the name of the More Than Ever Trust we established which would take care of him if I died or take care of both of us if I no longer could make decisions on our behalf. It protected both of us, with Power of Attorney of Health and Property and wills, in our "same sex relationship" when church, state, and national laws and opinions wouldn't.

The phrase was also used to name the education fund that we had talked about so many years ago but now were able to do something about. The More Than Ever Education Fund which will help provide scholarships for homeless youth and will be administrated by our long time charity friend, La Casa Norte.

I am grateful for his days at Lieberman Center which were spent with his usual grace and compassion for others. The care they gave him was superb and Manny, his private pay day care partner, was if not a Saint, a very highly placed Angel! Everyone on the staff at Lieberman and other residents and their families loved and enjoyed Gregory.

I was fortunate to be able to visit Gregory almost every day and we enjoyed those times fully with touching, talking, singing, fresh air, and sharing meals;  musical concerts and other events in the Lieberman Community Room; and especially treating Gregory to his favorite cookies, chocolates, and rice puddings!

He died peacefully after four days of preparing himself to let go of this life and move on to his next adventure. Many of his friends were able to sit with him and help him to let go. Family who live far sent continuous prayers and love our way. He gave me one final kiss after being in a coma for three days and on the fourth day he slipped away. He didn't go out with a bang which would not have been his style. His death reflected his life: calm, simple, compassionate, and loving. 

So BEAUTY? Yes BEAUTY! Gregory was a beautiful person, lived a beautiful life, shared his beautiful love with me and so many others, created beautiful friendships, designed and built beautiful homes and temples, and left much beauty behind in many ways for many others to continue to enjoy. 

I miss him so much. Death is still one of the great mysteries of life. I am lonely, I am sad, but I am blessed. It was a good run, thanks Gregory!

• • •

P.S. I need to add some thoughts that people reading this blog may be thinking. Believe me, I have had some of them myself. Gregory's and my entire time of 12+ years dealing with Dementia/ Alzheimer's, let alone our 40+ years of being together, was not always beautiful.

Sometimes as we grew in our relationship,  our earlier life was very difficult and at times our life with Dementia/ Alzheimer's seemed like the word CRAZY personified. Sometimes I was mean or impatient with him. Sometimes we did not resolve issues. Sometimes anger reigned. (Although we vowed and succeeded in never going to bed angry.)

Yes, there are things I would have done differently and yes, there are things I would still like to tell him. I apologized often and he always forgave. For the most part we did not leave too many things unsettled. I know that for a lot of people, and for me as well, we have regrets at missed opportunities or things not said.

How can there be beauty in that? Well maybe there can when the word forgiveness is added to the word beauty. Forgiveness of the other person and most importantly forgiveness of oneself.

I still talk to Gregory and believe that he is listening. No matter your believe system, if you want to believe something ... it can be true. So I believe that Gregory is listening to me, answering me sometimes, and watching me ... as well as watching over me. If I want to believe, and if this makes me feel better ... it is so!

Maybe you can do this as well. Sit down in a quiet place and talk to the person you love and tell them what you are thinking. Tell them what you are feeling. Tell them what you wished they had been able to give or say to you as well as what you wished you had been able to give or say to them.

There will be forgiveness and love shared, even if you feel it might be too late. But I believe that it is never too late to forgive and to love and to share ... and because I believe it ... it is true ... at least for me ... and maybe for you!

Gregory III

I am home, my god-son is staying with me and also spent yesterday and today at the Lieberman Center. 

Many friends have come through and many of the staff, administrators, cleaners, laundry ladies etc have come through to say goodbye to Gregory and to hug me, many crying on my shoulder.

I left at 5, with G in the good hands of the nurses who will check every hour. He is resting so peacefully and while his face is a little drawn and gaunt, he looks like an angel.

I believe that he will leave when I am not there if only because if I am there, he will sense me and my love and that will complicate it for him to let go. 

Before I left, I crawled gently into bed, put my head lightly on his chest, and we talked. I gave him permission to leave assuring him I would be OK. I apologized, telling him I knew that he already forgave long ago me for the times I was mean or frustrated or acted out of anger and fear, but that I needed to once more to make myself feel better.

I told him how much he means to me, how much he has influenced my life, thanked him for encouraging me to be not only myself but more of myself, and told him that I would continue talking to him when he left and maybe I would in one way or another hear from him.

I got out of bed, kissed him all over his face, then kissed his open, shallow breathing lips three times. On the third time he kissed me back! One final Monumental Momentary Miracle.

The Three Times

This piece is useful to remind me that I can forgive myself because my poor behavior, decision, action etc is already dead. Move on. Live a better life here and now.

It is essential to see that we live our lives most of the time in the three times; that's to say, the past, the present, and the future. Why do I suffer now? It's because of something in the past. What about what should I do in the future. Well, I should plan to do something in the future. The odd fact is that the past actually is dead. There are memories of it, but everything in the past is actually gone, and every thing in the future has not yet arisen. There's only one place where you can actually be,  and that is now. This needs thinking about, because it's very easy to say that's a lot of nonsense - of course there's past, present, and future. But actually, the only place where there is something, is-ness, is only now. How could be there be anything else? Anything else is was-ness or will-be-ness. Is-ness is only now. And you, therefore, can only be now. You cannot be in the past. That's dead. You cannot be in the future. It hasn't come. You can only be now.

From Tricyle, The Buddhist Review. Spring 2013. P 14.
"The Three Times"

By: John Crook

Fear of Reaching Out

We had a bedtime tiff again

A loss of the usually known,

There was no energy left to cope,

Not able to process and forgive.

So as I turned off the light,

And turned on the quiet tears,

I hoped he would not notice,

But missed his caring comfort.

I could not reach out as usual

To hold his hand, "Good night."

So afraid that he had also forgotten

How to nightly reach out to me.

A Technique

These ideas are taken from The Diamond Cutter: The Buddha on Managing your Business and Your Life by Geshe Michael Roach and Lama Christie McNally. Yes another "self help" book. But the concepts discussed within have made sense and have been working for me. The book was recommended by my nephew Mark and I appreciate him for it.

One meditative activity the book talks about is called "Setting the Day with Silent Time." This is my version of setting the day. It actually starts the night before as you are going to sleep by thinking about the best three things you did or said or thought during that day. Then think of the three worst things and forgive yourself. Think ahead to your first waking thoughts and remind yourself to "set the day."

After you have woken up and taken care of your bodily needs, washed your face, etc, go to a quiet place in your home, sit comfortably and concentrate on your breathing. In. Out. In. Out. Deep breaths. Try to count ten of them without allowing yourself to be distracted. If you get distracted try concentrating on the next ten without distraction. It will get easier. If you would like, then try thinking about NOTHING. I continue to concentrate on my breathing but with less focus. Next think about one of the problems you are facing and think about how you might approach it differently then you have in the past. Picture the problem dissolving as you take this different approach.

For me, I have been working on being supportive and loving while in the midst the "CRAZINESS" of Gregory and my interactions which are usually informed and interpreted by his Alzheimer's. My remaining calm, clear, and helpful with a loving supportive voice that is respectful but also helpful and that does not treat him like a child or like less of a person is quite a feat and one that I am not as good at as I would like to be. PATIENCE! in other words.

So I have started "Setting the Day" with a brief meditation and then picturing how I want to behave in the above described situations. I picture myself being calm, helpful, loving, respectful, even voiced. And guess what. Today after a week or so, I began seeing results. It feels good and I am able to stay out of the "bad interaction, anger, guilt, apology" cycle and around and around. Now I will meditate and picture my being able to be automatic MOST of the time as well as forgiving myself when I am not SOME of the time.

Does any of this make sense to you? Try it. Buy the book. Read it.