The Metaphor of the Pillow

Just now I was sitting on the new chair in my bedroom sitting area. As I sat there, I was looking across the room where Gregory's ashes rest and at the photograph of him which has become what I consider the "standard" Gregory photo. Emma, my cat was sitting in my lap and I was absent-mindedly petting her.

I began a meditation practice by being aware of what my body was physically feeling. I felt the chill air being pulled into my mouth and the warmed air being expelled. I could hear a gentle hum of some motor running elsewhere in the condo. I could hear the emptiness of no talking, no noise in my ears. I felt my feet firmly resting on the floor. I felt my back supported by the pillow.

This is the pillow which Isaac made for me out of a shirt he took from Gregory's room at the Lieberman Center after Gregory had died. It was one of my favorite shirts, which when I outgrew it became one of Gregory's favorite shirts.

As I thought about the support of the pillow, a number of metaphors started playing in my mind. Since my meditation was spontaneous, and since I did not have any particular intention for it, I let my mind play with pillow metaphors.

The pillow is soft. It feels smooth to the skin and warm. It gives the back support. When the head is resting on the pillow, it can raise the head and therefore the mind to a higher level. A pillow can be hugged, or cried into, or just held gently or firmly. A pillow can be joyfully, playfully tossed or batted at another person.

The pillow elevates. The pillow soothes. The pillow comforts. The pillow supports. The pillow protects. The pillow loves. The pillow remembers.

This pillow in particular is the love of Gregory and Isaac and Michael and the world of love and life.

Operator, Give Me Central 220

This image makes a nice metaphor for Dementia/Alzheimer's!

Yet Another Metaphor

Gregory is my love song and I am his, even though there are no words left to be sung.

Another Metaphor

Our life has been a screen play already written and delivered but without any applause.

Normalcy

How can I describe what it is like to live with someone who has Alzheimer's Disease or any dementia for that matter. I have tried many ways to talk about what I go through on a daily if not hourly basis. I have used metaphor, description, poetry, humor, and tears to try to share with you what it is like. Here is my latest attempt:

Living with and loving someone who has Alzheimer's
Is like orchestrating an improvisational dance with normalcy.
No music, no planned steps, no assigned leading partner.
Not being able to anticipate turns or circling or dips or bends.
Redefining normalcy by the moment.
For him not for me is the key but
My living in his world, makes no sense to either of us!