The 6 R's

Interesting. Today's DailyOM talks about working through transitions dealing with successful achievements, meeting goals, making big breakthroughs. I would assume much of this has to deal with work or profession oriented successes.

As I read it, I realized that it also applied to me in my transition from Caregiver Partner to Self-Care Principal, from Happily Married Partner to Widow(er,) from living and loving someone who is living with Dementia/ Alzheimer's to just living for myself, to dealing with grief.

In some ways, helping Gregory live a good life until the end was an achievement, both his and mine. In some ways there have been a lot of important lessons and breakthroughs for both of us. What its love? What is death. How can one live gracefully. Why does compassion make the difference? Who can one be in the face of difficult situations and loss?

So the advice that Ms. Taylor gives can also apply to the period after the loss of a loved one, and to grieving. The side effects she talks about are true for me as are the beneficial side effects of being "in-between" life events.

For now, perhaps these six words can guide me as I face living my life without Gregory. They could be called the "6 R's: "Refresh, Regroup, Revitalize, Relax, Reflect, Redefine."

• • •

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December 29, 2015 Working through Transitions  Permission to Simply Beby Madisyn Taylor During the pause between achievements, many people begin to question what their life is about. The elation we feel when we have learned an important lesson, achieved a goal, or had a big breakthrough can sometimes be met with a period of downtime afterward. During this period of transition, we may feel unsure and not know where to turn next. Many people, during the pause between achievements, begin to wonder what their life is about. These feelings are common and strike everyone from time to time. Human beings are active creatures—we feel best when we are working on a project or vigorously pursuing a goal. But there is nothing inherently wrong with spending a day, a week, or even a month simply existing and not having a plan. Just be. It won’t be long before you embark upon your next voyage of growth and discovery. The quiet lull into we which we fall between ideas, projects, and goals can make life seem empty. After accomplishing one objective, you may want to move immediately on to the next. However, when your next step is unclear, you may feel frustrated, disconnected, or even a mild depression. You may even perceive your lack of forward momentum as an indicator of imminent stagnation. To calm these distressing thoughts, try to accept that if your intent is personal growth, you will continue to grow as an individual whether striving for a specific objective or not. Spending time immersed in life’s rigors and pleasures can be a cathartic experience that gives you the time you need to think about what you have recently gone through and leisurely contemplate what you wish to do next. You may also find that in simply being and going through the motions of everyday life, you reconnect with your priorities in a very organic, unforced way. The mindful transitional pause can take many forms. For some, it can be a period of reflection that helps them understand how their life has unfolded. For others, it can be a period of adjustment, where new values based on recent changes are integrated into daily life. Just because you’re not headed swiftly to a final destination doesn’t mean you should assume that you have lost your drive. The stage between journeys can become a wonderful period of relaxation that prepares you for the path that will soon be revealed to you.

A Love Affair

I have written about loneliness often in the past. If I thought that I was lonely as Gregory slowly was diminished by Dementia/ Alzheimer's; if I missed having a partner with whom to make decisions, to share responsibilities, to support me through our journey; it is nothing compared to the loneliness I feel now that he is dead. I now face the rest of my life without being able to talk to him, to hold him, to kiss him, to doze off in his arms.

Every time I think I have a hold on this beast called grief, it bites me, it grabs me in its jaws and thrashes me around until I am beat up, broken, and bloody. The more I grieve the more obvious the obvious becomes. My grief has nothing to do with Gregory it has to do with me. My pain, my sorrow, my fears, my loneliness.

I am not so much grieving his death as I am grieving the future of my life. I don't mean to bring you down with me. I will feel better in an hour, later today, or tomorrow. But right now the tears flow freely, and I am sad. I am not sorry that Gregory has died, I am sorry that I continue to have to live without him.

This is not a suicide thought, taking my own life is not what I mean here. More painful than that is having to wake up each morning to face the day and find meaning, purpose, and love in my life when the person who meant the most to me can no longer be part of that except in my thoughts and in my memories.

I read recently somewhere, "Can one have a love affair, a love relationship with someone else when it does not involve the human body?" I am not sure but I sure have been having trouble finding peace in myself without Gregory's presence even though he is at peace.

Gregory, For you. Love Michael

Today, in the car on the way home from a little "being out with strangers" for the day before Christmas Eve, I listened to this song by Tracy Chapman.

Of course it made me think of Gregory and today's grief. Suddenly without much effort, I pictured some of our first encounters after we first meet almost 41 years ago, January 10th.

I close my eyes and clearly picture his study, upstairs in the house at Riverwoods Forest Preserve, where his wife was director of the Lake County Forest Preserve Edward L. Ryerson Conservation Area which included the original house, working farm, and its many acred grounds.

I remember driving up the narrow path through the woods, sometimes at night through the pitch black except for my car's headlights on high, when finally the house would come into view. It was a long, low federal style house and while the Ryerson's were a wealthy family who made their fortunes in steel, the house while substantial was not showy.

Gregory and Barbara, his wife of then seven years, lived upstairs. She married him knowing he was bi-sexual and his first lover Peter lived in Boston. Gregory was lonely for male company and we met at the "Men's Gathering" a sensitivity and encounter group for men of all persuasions to share, unload, and find support.

In those first months of knowing each other I would visit and have dinner with Gregory and Barbara and after dinner he and I would retire to his study for some alone time. Barbara was very understanding and cooperative in the beginning.

I see and feel his grand piano, a red oriental rug in the center of the room, the mahogany with bronze tipped legs desk, a wooden office chair on wheels, several double door closets with doors removed and filled with shelves loaded with books.

I remember the quiet times we spent together without words, or chatting about this or that, or exchanging back rubs, or dozing off in each other's arms all the while with classical Chopin, Beethoven, Bach, or Mozart playing in the background. We would sip Celestial Seasons herbal teas. I have Gregory to thank for introducing me to the classical composers and to herbal tea.

The joy of this experience today in the car is that my emotions were as out of control with love for him then as they are out of control with love for and my missing him now. I am grateful for having had his love for so many years. I will never be the same nor would I want to be.

I can just as easily feel the joy and excitement of our newly beginning love as I can feel the stability and support it became to the final easy for him but difficult for me goodbye.

If my great feelings of grief were not as strong as they are now, what would that say about our love then?



For You
By: Tracey Chapman

Ther're no words to say
No words to convey
This feeling inside I have for you
Deep in my heart
Safe from the guards
Of intellect and reason
Leaving me at a loss
For words to express my feelings
Deep in my heart

Look at me losing control
Thinking I had a hold
But with feelings this strong
I'm no longer the master
Of my emotions

Read more: http://artists.letssingit.com/tracy-chapman-lyrics-for-you-ctv2wc7#ixzz3vC2UQ1NX 
LetsSingIt - Your favorite Music Community 

Refocusing One's Grief

I have been thinking about this lately. And today's DailyOm, which it often does, caused me to sit down and put my thoughts into words.

The closer we get to Christmas, the more I have been grieving Gregory's death, the sadder maybe even depressed I have been feeling.

I know that this is only natural and one will be told by everyone else that we should expect this on firsts: First Thanksgiving. First Christmas. First Anniversary without Gregory in January which would have been (or should I say will be) 41 years together?

But I also know that Gregory does not need me to grieve, the universe is not benefitted by my grief, God (if she exists) does not need me to grieve. I am the one who needs to grieve but if it makes me sad, unhappy, and possibly depressed; maybe I do not need to grieve as much or in the way that I am doing so.

My Grief does not make Gregory's life any more or less meaningful. My Grief will definitely not bring him back to me for even a moment or two in realtime. My Grief will not being me joy, or cheer, or good feelings, or help support my health. So I continue to question Grief.

It is as if Grief gives me permission to wallow in my sorrows, my loneliness, my "what if's," my "if only's." It is as if I allow Grief to slow me down, feel tired, feel lethargic, to not accomplish those things I want to accomplish. I allow Grief to cause me to be poor company to friends and family.

So I continue to question grief. If I can turn my Grief into a more productive activity, I will be served. Gregory will be served. The universe will be served and God (if she exists) will are served. Family and friends and my two cats, Emma and Gigi, will be served. So I continue to question grief.

I believe that if I want to believe in something, then it is true. At least for me. So I continue my conversations, my dialogues with Gregory or with Gregory's Spirit although they at times might seem like monologues. But sometimes I hear Gregory's answers. At least I hear them in my head. At least they may be coming from him, from beyond, or from my 41 years of knowing what he would say, but none-the-less they come.

And I feel at times that Gregory, or Gregory's Spirit, is sad that I am sad, unhappy that I am unhappy, misses me because I miss him. I hear him telling me to try not to be so sad because it makes him feel sad as well. And that doesn't serve Gregory in whatever his next set of adventures and spiritual growth may need.

So I have been trying to grieve less. Grieve yes but less. When I feel sad I try to change the thoughts to ones of joy. When I feel lonely, I try to remember the good times and to be grateful for them. When I feel depressed, I sit with the feelings then tell myself to move on.

By allowing myself to stay sad, stay lonely, stay depressed, I am allowing myself to wallow in my grief instead of celebrating not only Gregory's life but also my own. I am seventy years old, I have much to celebrate and will have much to celebrate yet. By grieving less I will not be wasting those precious moments, minutes, hours, days, weeks, and years I have left.

So enjoy, not grieve. Laugh, not cry. Celebrate, not mourn. Sing and dance. I tell myself. And most of the time it works. And when it doesn't, I allow myself to sit and wallow but not for more than fifteen minutes at a time. Then I continue on continuing on.

• • •

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December 20, 2015 Raise Your Vibration Focus on the Goodby Madisyn Taylor There are many ways to raise your vibration including thinking positive and uplifting thoughts. Everything in the universe is made of energy. What differentiates one form of energy from another is the speed at which it vibrates. For example, light vibrates at a very high frequency, and something like a rock vibrates at a lower frequency but a frequency nonetheless. Human beings also vibrate at different frequencies. Our thoughts and feelings can determine the frequency at which we vibrate, and our vibration goes out into the world and attracts to us energy moving at a similar frequency. This is one of the ways that we create our own reality, which is why we can cause a positive shift in our lives by raising our vibration. We all know someone we think of as vibrant. Vibrant literally means “vibrating very rapidly.” The people who strike us as vibrant are vibrating at a high frequency, and they can inspire us as we work to raise our vibration. On the other hand, we all know people that are very negative or cynical. These people are vibrating at a lower frequency. They can also be an inspiration because they can show us where we don’t want to be vibrating and why. To discover where you are in terms of vibrancy, consider where you fall on a scale between the most pessimistic person you know and the most vibrant. This is not in order to pass judgment, but rather it is important to know where you are as you begin working to raise your frequency so that you can notice and appreciate your progress. There are many ways to raise your vibration, from working with affirmations to visualizing enlightened entities during meditation. One of the most practical ways to raise your vibration is to consciously choose where you focus your attention. To understand how powerful this is, take five minutes to describe something you love unreservedly—a person, a movie, an experience. When your five minutes are up, you will noticeably feel more positive and even lighter. If you want to keep raising your vibration, you might want to commit to spending five minutes every day focusing on the good in your life. As you do this, you will train yourself to be more awake and alive. Over time, you will experience a permanent shift in your vibrancy.

Holiday Grief and Balance

As I have been told, there will be many firsts in life. Usually firsts are to be celebrated. I am looking for a way to celebrate my first Christmas in 40 years without Gregory. Not pushing myself to think about how I'll spend the actual holiday. Maybe I'll spend it at Lieberman, Gregory's last home, spreading joy to the residents?

I have decorated the condo for the holiday but minimally when compared to previous years. I have not baked any cookies but my taste buds are trying to convince me to make at least a few. Haven't purchased many gifts for people but will make my Ina Garten's Rosemary Cashews as gifts for family and friends.

Rang in the season at Roger's annual Christmas party on December 5th. Enjoyed the Christkindlmarket in downtown Chicago which my niece Colleen Maire.We bought German glass ornaments, ate potato pancakes with sour cream and apple sauce, and munched a Bratwurst. Bought myself a new computer and have been enjoying using it in and organizing my new office, the table in the living room which used to be Gregory's workspace. Looking forward to finishing the reading corner in the bedroom, replacing the computer desk that used to be in there, with a comfy chair, lamp, and additional bookcase

Will probably spend dinner with various friends over the next weeks and look forward to that. Bought but haven't wrapped new mice for Emma and Gigi. Feeling the joy of Christmas on one shoulder and Gregory's absence on the other. But somehow that creates a balance.

I will continue to grieve for a while yet ... but slowly, very slowly I am being able to think about past memories, both happy and sad, with both joy and sorrow, while carving the path of my future. 

Putting Grief Aside

This was my response to Faith who several times on her Facebook page has asked those of us who love someone with Dementia/ Alzheimer's to put our grief aside.

Faith, There is a grief that one must carry when love is present. I agree that we should not miss the precious moments that we can still have together but know that grief can be a sign of great love and sorrow. We are losing what is never really ours to own and is never permanent anyway but that does not make the sorrow any less. At times grief must be set aside so as to continue celebrating life. Often when I needed to really cry, since I would be wet anyway I took a shower in an effort to hide my tears from Gregory! I agree that some relish their grief and wave it like a banner at the cost to the person for whom they are grieving but when done well, grief is a necessary component of caring, love, and loss for both the person living with Dementia/ Alzheimer's and for the people loving and living with them.

Forbidden Love

As I continue to grieve the loss of the person I have most loved in the world and now will continue to love only in my heart, I think about how far we have come to be accepted by so much of the rest of the world as viable, valuable members of society with the right to love whom we choose.

When I came out in my 20's, during the 1970's, homosexuality was not discussed, not visible, no role models, illegal, etc. As an even younger man, dealing with my feelings for the same sex, for sure I felt that I was the only one who had these feelings, that I must be "sick," and that if I loved or lusted after another man, did that mean I was a woman in some way?

During the early Stonewall Era, I signed petitions, protested, and marched. But always carefully because I would not have done well being arrested and would for sure have been fired from my teaching position if I was found out. Astounding that it was felt that just because I was Gay, I would automatically be a threat to young boys while Straight male teachers didn't automatically molest young girls made and makes no sense.

Slowly things changed, being gay was more accepted by family and friends and colleagues. Eventually this issue of Gay Marriage began to be resolved in state after state and finally at the Supreme Court level. Even so that doesn't mean there are not gay haters and gay baiters and gay beaters out there. But it is better.

Now that marriage was possible between Gregory and I, we chose not to because of the financial complications that Medicaid would pose in his care at the Alzheimer's Care Facility. Bluntly: poor people are supported by the state or they die, the wealthy never has had to worry about getting the best care and paying for it. It is the middle class family (and now gay married family) that would go bankrupt and all those life savings, earned with such hard work, would fly out the window for health care.

But ironically, like the Hippies of the 70's who would rather live together without benefit of marriage papers saying, "How does a piece of paper make our love any deeper or any more permanent?" now Gregory and I could CHOOSE not to be married having at least the right to be able to CHOOSE to do so or not!

So to the title of this post. Tonight on the way home from visiting Michael's Museum: A Curious Collection of Tiny Treasures at Chicago Children's Museum on Navy Pier with a dear family friend who has served as a mentor and role model having been through the Alzheimer's journey with her husband; after dropping her off, the song from West Side Story, "Maria" and then "There's A Place For Us" came on the radio.

The lyrics resonated with me and I felt sad being without Gregory sitting next to me. I wondered about the strength of our love and wondered if that love was so strong, so pure, so intense because it was a love that "dare not speak its name" as it used to be called. Was it because it was a "forbidden" love that had to make its own rules and establish its own milestones of success. Was it a love so strong because as a male I knew what male love was about and that made it easier to love another male instead of having to figure out what a female needed when it came to love

Will never know for sure, just musing, but none-the-less, my love for Gregory and his love for me got us through many very difficult situations: Lack of money at times. Getting advanced degrees with lots of studying and less time to be together.

With "running away to Mexico" for 6 months when I was 35 years old. When Gregory divorced his female wife of 7 years. When he was searching for himself and trying to decide what his life's work would be.

When he studied for and passed his architecture licensing exams. When he opened his architecture and design firm and had me there to help.

When I lost a year to chemo therapy for my lymphoma cancer. When I retired early from teaching.

When we worked together to build Michael's Museum in the guest room of our home. When the museum was transferred to Chicago Children's Museum.

When we received his diagnosis of Dementia/ Alzheimer's. Through the twelve years we lived, and lived well with the diagnosis. With his last 18 months at the memory care facility. During the three days he used to die.

And now with my being really alone and grieving and trying to keep on keeping on.

And I realize that I am not the only one grieving his death. His family and many friends and just acquaintances for whom he made a difference grieve as well. His gentle demeanor, kindness, generosity, compassion, deep spirit and love of fellow personkind always shone through, even during his diminished years, months, weeks, and days with Alzheimer's

Will never know for sure about this huge love, but I do know and am grateful for a love that will continue to last for as long as I do and for as long as the people whom Gregory influenced and touched remember and love him as well.

"Letting Go" By: Kate Swaffer

I am reproducing my fellow blogger Kate Swaffer's post her in its entirety because it is such a significant piece. Do, however, please visit her site for her many wonderful posts.

http://kateswaffer.com (Opens in a new window)

Letting go

Kate Swaffer / 19 hours ago 

One of the biggest challenges for me is letting go of the abilities I once had. Yes, I know it is easy to say, “but you can still do so many things”, but let me just say how devastating it is having to let go of functioning.

I am not talking about physical functioning, as I was and am very used to that happening. Needing reading glasses was the first major step towards that, and possibly giving up playing squash the second!

I’m okay about my hair going grey, I’m okay with my wrinkles that mean I have lived and loved, I’m even reasonably okay living with the ongoing chronic pain of severe arthritis and other chronic conditions.

Accepting that I can no longer manage medication, nor sometimes work out how to get dressed or make a cup of coffee is emotionally debilitating. My maths ability has been impaired for some time, but now, it is so impaired others have talked about it, and suggested to my husband perhaps it is time I let go of doing more things.  Of course, we have had to go through the pain together this weekend, as it had to be brought up…

I find this to be part of the process of letting go of the many things you lose with dementia, but in contrast to when you are letting go of someone you have loved, you still have your functioning and abilities in tact. When you let go of someone who has died, you still have your functioning and abilities in tact. When you lose a job, you still have your functioning and abilities in tact. When you lose friends (except when this happens after a diagnosis of dementia), you still have your functioning and abilities in tact.

If you have ever wondered why people with dementia act in ways that are hard for others to live with, manage, accept, then please think about what it is like for us, the people diagnosed with dementia, who are losing our functioning and abilities. We are changing in ways that you are not, yes, but we are also losing so much of our identity, who we once were, perhaps even who we wanted to become.The future looks grim, and our past, sometimes even this morning or yesterday, is fading, perhaps not even to become a distant memory for some of us.

Letting go is hard to do, especially when you have nothing else to hold onto… or look forward to, which is why it is so very  important to completely ignore Prescribed Disengagement™® , and Live beyond dementia™, for as long as humanly possible.

My Reply: My heart and head cry out loud for you and all others who have gone or are going or will go through this experience. Oh that I could make it all go away, be OK or be better for you, dear friend, like I tried so hard to do for Gregory. There is no way to pet you and say it is OK. It isn't! But know that LOVE does the best it can to replace those losses. LOVE by you and for you. For and from your husband, family, friends, BLOG readers, and so many others whose lives you have affected and influenced and made better!

My love. My life.

If you would have asked me this question on the first of October, I would have had to think about it a while. Someone famous? Someone from far or near history? President Obama? Bette Middler? Edith Piaf?

Now, since October 4th, I would not have to think for a moment before saying, "Gregory! My love. My life."

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!

To Grieve or Not to Grieve and How, That is the Question

Interesting that often family and friends will tell you how to grieve. Or at least they will offer advice and/or suggestions. Shortly after Gregory died, when they would make their offers, I would try to share how I felt about the grieving process and how that process made sense to me.

This often took more energy then I had and most often the family member or friend would agree, and then reiterate once more their idea on what I would be going through and what I should expect. “You are strong and have been dealing with this well. But one day it will hit you so be ready. You will grieve and loose it. It will not be easy. Be prepared.” Eventually, actually on short order, I just started saying, “Thank You” and leaving it at that. I didn't feel the need to explain, or educate, or council.

My own understanding of how I have been grieving is that I have been “HIT WITH IT” for over twelve years, especially during the last month Gregory was still at home, then hit hard with the realization for 18 months while Gregory was at Lieberman - even though he was well taken care of, and hit yet again during the four days he was preparing for his passage, and finally on the day that I sat with his empty body and held his hand and kissed his cooling mouth.

I have been processing and writing about Gregory and my journey with Dementia/Alzheimer’s for over five years on my blog of over 1,370 posts with 70,344 hits and this doesn't count the manuscript, consisting of over 300 pages, which I worked on before I began the blog.

I am often "HIT WITH IT" when I wish Gregory goodnight over my shoulder towards Grandma Carrie's sewing box where his ashes reside, when I find the need to cry myself to sleep, and when I feel the need to cry myself awake.

Grief does not happen all the time but when it arrives, I welcome the emotions and sit with them. Sometimes if I do not have the energy to cope, I welcome the emotions and thank them. I ask them to come back another time when I am feeling stronger.  I do this out-loud. It seems to work and they leave me alone for the time being.

Grief happens when I am reminded of a favorite restaurant at which Gregory and I used to eat or a favorite place we shopped. It happens when I hear a certain song, or am reminded while at the opera, or when I use a language expression that we used to "shorthand" with each other.

It happens when I write my blog as I process ideas, emotions, and experiences.

So I wonder to myself, "Either I am doing a wonderful job of grieving or I am doing a good job of hiding my emotions." I think that the former is true and not the latter. I think that I have been grieving for 12+ years, just to various degrees and with various triggers.

People say, "I am so sorry for your loss." And I say "Thank You." What I want to say is, "Thank you, but I have gained more than I have lost. I am NOT sorry, I am SAD but not SORRY! I am HAPPY, maybe even JOYFUL that especially Gregory, but also I, am no longer having to live in a Ménage à Trois with Alzheimer's being the dominant uninvited partner.

MÉNAGE À TROIS - PROLOGUE
(Written July 4, 2012)

After more than forty  years their relationship is as strong as ever, their love continues to grow, change, and adjust to the times. Uninvited, however, a third partner has joined the relationship.

When they first met, it was not fashionable for two people of the same sex to be in love let alone to participate in a “three-way.” But Alzheimer’s does not discriminate nor ask permission and so it became a Ménage à Trois.

In the beginning, each one was very much unlike the other. He was tall and he was short. He was fair and he was dark. He was slender and he was bulky. He was a recovering Catholic. He was a recovering Jew. He was calm, thoughtful, and orderly. He was animated, impulsive, and random.

Often he described him as a “stick,” meaning hard, formed, and inflexible. In turn, he described him as a “sponge,” meaning soft, malleable, absorbing. Over time the stick became more sponge-like and the sponge became more stick-like. Their life was good and roles “subject to change on a moment’s notice” and then the unanticipated, uninvited lover arrived. 

Now one is becoming less and one is having to become more. Slowly while one is becoming the back partner in this ménage à trois and one is becoming the front partner, Alzheimer’s is becoming the dominant partner. They do not really love the third partner in their relationship but they acknowledge the intruder’s presence and do the best they can.

Day to day, try as they might to successfully deal, accommodate is the best they can do. Once one thinks he has learned the “rules” of living with someone living with Alzheimer’s, the other inadvertently changes them. While one wonders what the other really still understands, the other doesn’t realize that he no longer understands. While one is in such pain at his loss, his success is confirmed by the other’s trust, happiness, contentment, and peace. A moving target is what they call it.

Meanwhile, their love continues to grow, change, and adjust to the times. Uninvited, the third partner is now an accepted part of the relationship. They continue to list the many things they have to be grateful for in their life list: supportive family, friends, and neighbors; pets, condo, and convertible auto; going to movies, plays, opera; great meals out and better ones at home; and most of all ... each other! Alzheimer’s Disease, they will tell you, just happens to be one part of their life, but at the bottom of the list.

EPILOGUE
(Written 11/18/15)

It took Gregory four days to prepare himself to die.
It came on unexpectedly and quickly.
Hospice expected him to leave that day or the next.
But he slowed it down, I believe, to allow me time to process as well.

He was in no pain, his breathing was not too labored.
He was unresponsive but most likely he knew I was there.
He most likely knew I was talking to him and loving him,
While I touched, stroked, and petted him.

The nurses and staff kept a close eye on him overnight,
So I did not feel the need to keep an overnight vigil.
He probably needed the time to himself to continue his preparations.
He was that kind of a private, compassionate (compassionate even with himself) person.

In the third day of his coma, he relied his energy and gave me one last kiss goodbye.
He was able to leave his body without anguish or pain.
He did so in the calm manner that reflected who he was his entire life.
I celebrate him more than I grief for him and I continue to love him.

MORE THAN EVER!

My Stages of Grief

Home

Click to play.

A Small Glimmer

Grief

The way we learn is through direct experience, not by reading about something or being told about it by others. That book or that other person, however, may be a catalyst to help you begin the process of learning. I am posting the following DailyOM because it speaks to grief in a way that I have directly experienced it. If its wisdom can be passed on to help you begin to see grief the same way, may you know you are not alone!


http://www.dailyom.com

Grief can arise from many life situations, but know it is not a permanent state of being.

September 23, 2015
The Process of Grieving
Becoming Whole Again

by Madisyn Taylor

When we experience any kind of devastating loss, whether it is the loss of a loved one, a dream, or a relationship, feelings may arise within us that are overwhelming or difficult to cope with. This sense of grief can also come up when we are separated from anyone or anything we have welcomed into our lives. And while it may feel like we are caught up in a never-ending spiral of sadness and emptiness, it is important to remember that the grief we are feeling is not a permanent state of being. Rather, grief is part of the process of letting go that in many ways can be a gift, allowing us to go deeper within ourselves to rediscover the light amidst the seeming darkness.  

The emotions that accompany any kind of loss can be intense and varied. A sense of shock or denial is often the first reaction, to be replaced by anger. Sometimes this anger can be directed at your loved one for “abandoning” you; at other times you may feel outrage toward the universe for what you are enduring. And while there are stages of grief that people go through – moving from denial to anger to bargaining to depression to acceptance – the cycles of grief often move in spirals, sometimes circling forward and then back again. You may even experience moments of strength, faith, and laughter in between. While these emotions seem to come and go sporadically, it is important to feel them, accept them, and allow them to flow. With time, patience, and compassion, you will eventually find your center again. 

As we move through our grief, we may find ourselves reluctant to release our pain, fearing we are letting go of who or what we have lost. We may even regard our movement toward healing as an act of disloyalty or giving up. Know that while the hurt may fade, the essence of what you had and who you loved will have already transformed you and forever stay with you. If anything, once you are ready for the pain of your loss to subside, their memories can then live more fully within you. Remember, that healing is a part of the spiraling cycles of grief, and that in letting yourself feel restored again, you are surrendering to a natural movement that is part of the dance of life. 

Grief

Read Kate's articulate, eloquent, profound writing on the grief she is experiencing as she walks her path with Dementia/Alzheimer's. Sad but beautifully written:

Click here to read Kate's post on grief.
Opens in a new window.

My reply:

Kate,
May the outpouring of love in the comments of your blog and mine added patch part of the hole of your grief. You put into words so articulately, so eloquently, so beautifully what I have been trying to write about for the last eleven years with Gregory and my journey through Dementia/Alzheimer's. (http://mhorvichcares.blogspot.com) But your words are from your side of Dementia, not someone looking in and that makes them even more powerful and more profound! I too find that writing helps heal. But your hole of grief is also a sacred one that you are entitled to, no one can or should try to take that away or pretend that it doesn't matter or exist. You and it should be respected, be supported, be loved as you walk through it to the side of acceptance and peace. Acceptance and peace will arrive. You are fast becoming a large part of my life and I send you supportive energies.
Fondly,
Michael

Grieving The Loss of Music

Kate, my blogger friend from Australia just posted a piece about her gradual loss of her musical knowledge. Click here to read her post. Opens in a new window. It is a sad piece in which she grieves the loss. I wrote the following in reply:

Oh Kate. My heart aches with you and for me as I remember Gregory's losses with music. He was close to a concert pianist with pieces like Ballad #43 from Chopin. This is an athletic piece, with the likes of Horowitz playing as an encore. It took G only five years to master this piece and I enjoyed every note (and clunker) lying on the sofa nearby. When we sold the grand piano that adorned and filled our living room, I cried, Gregory remarked "At least I can still listen to my CDs and have more music than I know what to do with."

And music continues to be such an important part of his (our) life. It brings him peace and at times tears of beauty. He can no longer play and no longer knows his Bach from his Beethoven but he is happy and enjoys his music so much. We hold hands and listen to Chopin (among others) and do not need words. Other times he loves being "under his headphones" and disappearing into the music.

As for your husband, be grateful but do not be sorry for him. It is your path but he has, from his heart, chosen to walk it with you. If that is not what love is all about than I do not know love. I am sure he would have it no other way! It is what he must do. In a joyful way "carried on the shoulders of sorrow," you are allowing him to do what he must!

I am sure none of us would have ordered it this way but we do have the choice: lie down and die or hunker down and keep going the best we can! Not really knowing you as a dear friend, I none the less can honestly say, "Kate, I love you and send you positive, healing emerges every day!"

Fondly,
Michael

I Would Give Up Everything I Own

Crying

I am not afraid to cry. I cry for joy as well as sorrow, beauty as well as suffering, life as well as death. Emotions I know are a barometer of how I am doing today but these are tears of despair that periodically raise up when I once again grieve my loss  and the changes that Alzheimer's has showered on me. I also see the blessings that Alzheimer's has showered on me but right now I am only wet :-)

Grace and Frankie

Jane Fonda and Lily Tomlin co-star as two women forced to reinvent their lives in this funny, honest new Netflix Original series. Elegant, proper Grace and freewheeling, eccentric Frankie aren't friends, even though their husbands Robert and Sol (Martin Sheen and Sam Waterston) have been law partners for decades. But when Robert and Sol announce that they're leaving their wives for each other, the two women start to bond in ways they never expected.

I am watching this Netflix series and loving it. The homosexuality of Robert and Sol are accepted as the norm and the emotions that all four characters are going through are real, raw, and honest. There are many tender moments between the male couple and between the new relationship of the ex-wives, as well as the original married couples. Often these tender moments bring tears.

But besides loving it, I am having some problems. So here I sit, with tears in my eyes not because of Grace and Frankie or Robert and Sol but because of Gregory and Michael. I am yet again grieving my loss, my loneliness, my aloneness. 

As an older couple (in their 70's?) the men share moments of truth and honesty, of anger and love, of dealing with the complexity of their new relationship and of life itself. Those moments for the most part are over for Gregory and me. Our interactions are loving and beautiful, the are meaningful and honest, but they hold no depth of today only depth of spirit and love.

And I miss being able to sit on the sofa with Gregory supporting my tears, or making me laugh, or being able to spoon or hold hands as we drift off to sleep. So I take my tears away from the TV and out onto the balcony where I sit in the wonderfully spring into summer 70 degree air at sunset. And I look at the other chair next to the table and I cry. And I am lonely. And I miss my honey being here with me at home. And what is home without someone to share it with after 40+ years of love?