Today

Living in the Here and Now

You're always on your way somewhere. The key is: find a way to be happy wherever you now are on your way to where you really want to be. (We're speaking of the state of being you want.) It does not matter where you are; where you are is shifting constantly - but you must turn your attention to where you want to go. And that's the difference between making the best of something and making the worst of something. ---Abraham Excerpted from the workshop: Detroit, MI on September 27, 2003 Our Love, Esther (and Abraham and Jerry)

http://www.abraham-hicks.com/lawofattractionsource/index.php

This is the first year since Gregory and I met 40 years ago in which we will not be decorating together for Christmas. Yesterday I helped him do a little tree for his room at Liberman. Today I did the condo. Much reduced in decorations, new arrangements, new places help to make it feel like "here and now." The past is past, the future not here yet, today is all we really have. I am working at making my Christmas full and meaningful for today!

Frank Sinatra's Young At Heart

I am visiting Gregory at The Lieberman on Monday which is also music day at 3:00.

A volunteer comes in each Monday and Thursday and sings American Songbook type songs, accompanied by his guitar, from 3:00-4:00.

All of the residents are "parked" in the "A Wing " living room in their wheel chairs, or on a chair or sofa if able, listening to the music, or sleeping, or staring into the distance. 

Some very few (maybe three) sing along in their cracked, out of tune older voices and some clap (maybe another three) in their out of rhythm weak sounding way.

Today during music time, I sat next to Gregory and studied each unique, wrinkled face decorated by time and troubles as well as by time and joys.

I wondered at each life, now basically over. I wondered at each mind, where is it and what is it thinking. 

For the most part, the 38 some residents were in the same (only different) "here and now" in which Gregory resides. 

But I wondered, and studied each face, and periodically wiped away the tears as I listened to the lyrics. 

These lyrics, which in the past I would have taken for granted, were today ERRONEOUS and OUT OF TUNE and PAINFUL for me to hear. 

Fairy tales CAN come true but they also fade and die ... as do we all!

FRANK SINATRA LYRICS

"Young At Heart"

Fairy tales can come true, it can happen to you
If you're young at heart.
For it's hard, you will find, to be narrow of mind
If you're young at heart.

You can go to extremes with impossible schemes.
You can laugh when your dreams fall apart at the seams.
And life gets more exciting with each passing day.
And love is either in your heart, or on it's way.

Don't you know that it's worth every treasure on earth
To be young at heart.
For as rich as you are, it's much better by far
To be young at heart.

And if you should survive to 105,
Look at all you'll derive out of being alive!
And here is the best part, you have a head start
If you are among the very young at heart.

And if you should survive to 105,
Look at all you'll derive out of being alive!
And here is the best part, you have a head start
If you are among the very young at heart.

An E-Mail Reply

From niece MB (daughter of Al, Greg's oldest brother:) 
I have been concerned about you since Gregory has moved into his new home. I know they are taking care of him. That will give you time to make adjustments to your life.

Thanks for the kind words. I am doing well. We have been struggling with this for over ten years and the major difference, now that Gregory is in the advanced stages of the disease, is that the concerns, needs, and ability to define new normalcies have been narrowed. 

For the most part the routines and normalcies for Gregory are now predictable whereas during the early parts of his disease, it was a baseball game without rules!

As for my living alone, our relationship was always one of parallel growth. We both had the same interests and friends but maintained our individual interests and friends, and of course the two overlapped at points. So while I have to redefine my new life living alone, I do not have to redefine my life or identity entirely. 

I have had to learn to live in the present moment, as Gregory does, and to see life through his eyes. When I am able to do that, I am happy and content. When I begin to see his life through my eyes, I have more difficulties avoiding crying and grief.

Not sure if there will be a price in the future, but for now I have been separating myself into two parts. When I am by myself and at home I try not to think of Gregory and our past 39 years and when I am with him I try not to think about home and my life and our past 39 years. 

Some Buddhist monks spend a lifetime learning how to live in the here and now, without living in the past or the future. Both Gregory and I have been able to do that. He because of the Alzheimer's me because of my great love for him.

At home I'll keep busy with friends, keeping the condo up, writing, etc but when I am with Gregory, sometimes we just sit and hold hands and that is paradise and enough.

In the beginning it was difficult learning how to let go and become the Secondary Care Giver with The Lieberman Center (and their trained, knowledgable staff) being the Primary Care Giver. 

I am still Gregory's advocate but have begun to know how to choose my "battles." The staff at Lieberman actually listen to and hear what I say, try to accommodate my suggestions and Gregory's needs, but also help educate me when I am out of order or unrealistic in my goals for him.

Gregory's CONDITION is much worse and continues to worsen but his SITUATION is so much better ... so my heart is light.

Here and Now Complications

My life right now, who I am, is so complicated with such mixed emotions. I asked my therapist how I could be feeling such dichotomous emotions and he said the answer is "Wisdom." 

Emotions are not separate but rather opposites along a continuum. In and of themselves, emotions are not good or bad. They just are. To be complete we need to acknowledge all of our emotions while trying to keep them in balance. Allow for happiness. Allow for sadness. Try to stay somewhere in the middle. 

I love my solitude, I miss Gregory. I love having the condo to myself, I wish he was here with me. I like making decisions by myself, I have no one to rely on. I feel such joy at the same time I feel such despair and loneliness.  

If I look through Gregory's eyes, I am at peace. When I look through my own, I am at turmoil. I have always had a life of my own and separate friends and personal goals/ambitions but I would love to be able to share their progress with Gregory like I used to. 

I yearn to cuddle in his arms at bedtime. I miss a good FUCK. I miss a good back rub. I miss sharing my feelings after watching a movie. I miss eating half my dinner at the restaurant and then switching and enjoying the new tastes in his half. I miss his help carrying the groceries in from the car. I miss his company while waiting in the lobby for a doctor's appointment. I miss his patience with me. I miss his supporting and encouraging me to be who I am.

I am doing a fairly good job of living in the here and now like Gregory is doing, know in my heart that HERE and NOW  is all we really have, but find myself wondering if I should be dealing with or thinking about the future. To be honest I cannot imagine a future.

Lie Down and Die or Hunker Down and Keep Living

"Lie Down and Die or Hunker Down and Keep Living." That is a saying that Gregory and I adopted early after his diagnosis with Alzheimer's some 11 years ago. Now it is time for me to renew that saying for myself as Gregory no longer has this fight. He is content. I hope he can continue to be so.

When I am with him at Lieberman, if I think about the man Gregory used to be as recently as last Christmas, or if I think about Gregory while I am at home and compare that to the man he used to be as recently as last Christmas, or if I spend too much time thinking about what our relationship had been like over most of the last 39 years, or if I by chance catch a photograph of our earlier days; I might as well stop writing this post and sob and scream and dash my body against the walls and  throw myself into bed depressed not to emerge for days or weeks, if ever.

Maybe some day I will be able to think more about Gregory and my past, and revel in the memories of our beautiful time together. But for now I need to focus on the here and now, as Gregory seems to be able to do, and enjoy our beautiful time together now, today, here and now.

It is not easy seeing him in his wheel chair: immobile, unable to toilet himself, unable to feed himself, now and then tremoring, needing to concentrate on how to get the water through a straw or bite a piece of sandwich, not being able to use words to share his thoughts, crying unexpectedly, so focused on some far off object or through that even I cannot get a response; all this surrounded by 70 to 100 year olds who are worst off than Gregory and sometimes in the midst of their cries and shouts and anger and confusion and shit smells and food messes clinging to the napkin tucked around their neck.

But what I am able to see, so this is what I focus on, is a community in which Gregory feels safe, loved, taken care of, provided for, having limited wants and needs. Gregory is past the point of clinging to fears, unnecessary expectations, the past or future, holding on to the need for "things."

What I am able to experience is how he brightens up when he sees me or a visitor, how he is able to smile and tell me he loves me, how he tells Pat, "You are beautiful." or Cheryl, "Oh, it is you!" or Jan, "Oh wonderful." or me when at dinner I told him I needed to talk to the Social Worker and that I would be right back, "Oh that would be lovely."

I look forward to his hugs and with some delay in sound his large smacks of a kiss on my cheek. We can hold hands for hours and watch "South Pacific" over and over again on the TV in his room. I can offer him a piece of chocolate or a cookie and he is delighted. I can take my leave telling him I will see him tomorrow and he will acknowledge with an, "OK."

For now this is all I need and I relish each moment because I know that even these minimal interactions will disappear. But what I can hold onto is our love for each other, maybe at a later date our memories, and to the knowledge that all of his needs are being beautifully taken care of by a huge team of people who care. While Gregory's illness has gotten worse, his situation has gotten better!