Release

Gregory is released. He would always say of someone who died, "They have found their way out. We are still looking for ours." I am released as well in some ways but will begin looking again, hopefully for several more years, for my way out. May I be as comfortable and gracious as Gregory was in finding his.

Last night I gave in to my emotions. Took about fifteen minutes of trying to hold it back until I finally let it rip. My God-Son Isaac came to my bedroom door and gently knocked. We held each other and cried. I carried on for maybe thirty minutes more.

Crying serves no purpose other than to make you feel better! What I mean is that I could settle down again and carry on but Gregory is still dead. When my mom and dad passed, I used to tease my sister by asking, "Is mom still dead?" "Is dad still dead?" The teasing helped lighten the time and we were able to respond to the word "Dead." It is so final!!!

I washed my face, went back to bed, and although the sad cloud that follows me and sometimes makes my eyes rain was there with me, Gregory as my umbrella helped me to have a good night sleep.

Today is Ash Friday. I mean that today I pick up Gregory's ashes from the Cremation Society of Illinois. Brook, our funeral director, has been so helpful and calming and supportive. If one has to go through this, and one does, she made it bearable.

But I am a little afraid of the reality and finality of having "Gregory in a Box" with me again. It will certainly slap (or hug) me with the reality that I will never see him again except in photographs and in my memory. I will never be able to hold his hand, hug him, kiss his lips.

The reality and finality of it makes me feel empty instead of full (which is what I want to be feeling considering what a wonderful full live we had together,) sad instead of the "happy" (which I have been extolling since his death,) and lost instead of ready to find my next chapter.

This too shall pass. And I will continue to ache but it will slowly be replaced with renewed love and loving memories. And I will search for and begin and enjoy the next chapter of my life. And I will cry and I will laugh. And I will find my way out in time.

Thinking About Gregory

Let me move to some changes I have been able to make in my thinking based on my new awareness of who I am.

Lately I have been thinking a lot about Gregory and his situation. While Lieberman does a pretty wonderful job of taking care of the residents on Gregory's unit, there is so much more they could be doing. 

Much of the "strum und drang" of the unit could be alleviated by what to me, seem simple, easy to accomplish measures. In short, my erroneous belief that I could run the place better than the mass of trained professionals that currently do run it, it getting in my way!

"Storm and Stress" is the English translation of Strum und Drang,  a German literary movement that emphasized the volatile emotional life of the individual. And at times life on the Special Memory Care Unit at Lieberman does reflect the volatile emotional life of all of the individuals involved: residents, staff, administration, and family.

So I have been lying awake at night, going over what I think and what I would say to make change at Lieberman. No need to say I have been losing precious hours of sleep and working myself into a tizzy.

Then I think of Gregory in particular. He is content, happy, well taken care of. Besides the excellent parts of life and staff at Lieberman, he has Manny and Halina to care for him from 11:30-5:30. 

He has me to visit almost every day with love overflowing as well as flowers, chocolate, and other treats. 

He has his Midwest Palliative Hospice Care nurse, social worker, Rabbi, music therapist, massage therapist to keep an extra eye on him.

I think that in some ways, my thoughts about making Gregory's life at Lieberman (as well as helping the other residents on the unit) are more about trying to bring back the pre-Dementia/ Alzheimer's Gregory and making all the changes and difficulties of being on that path go away. But that is fantasy, isn't it?

So here comes my growth through Buddhism: Perhaps I should back off from feeling that I can make major changes in the life at Lieberman's Memory Care Unit.

If I feel sad about his situation, it is sad. If I am worried, it is worrisome. If I allow the "down side" to make me unhappy, I am unhappy. If I focus on what is bad, that is all I see and I loose the joy of what is good. If I see it as suffering, I suffer.

But If I am grateful and happy, that is how I feel. If I look closely and realize that for the most part Gregory is doing well in his environment, then I feel good also.

It turns out that my unhappiness is of no use to Gregory. My unhappiness does not make Gregory any happier. In some ways he probably can detect that I am unhappy and that has a negative effect on him. If I am happy he can feel that. 

A lesson here is that Gregory just is ... and in some ways that is more in touch with reality than I am.

Notice your innermost feelings when you think of a very sad situation and then switch to a very happy situation and put a smile on your face. It feels different doesn't it? It is very hard to feel unhappy if you put a smile on your face and feel happy. At least I find it works for me.

I guess you could put a smile on your face and at the same time tell yourself you are feeling sad and unhappy but why cancel out the good effect of a smile when you don't have to!

I guess this is when people talk about choosing to be happy or sad under any conditions, no matter how difficult. I think that if you look hard enough you can find a little ray of sunshine even behind the darkest clouds. Trite saying but true!

So back to 

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

Before and After

When dealing with Alzheimer's Disease, there are many before and afters. Over the last 11+ years, I know that Gregory and I have experienced many: some good, some difficult, some ugly.

The secret to success, happiness, peace of mind, etc ... I believe ... in dealing with the disease, is being able to be in the present, seeing the person with the disease as a person NOT only as the disease.

It is not easy to do, but I find that if I tuck away the sad feelings until a later date, I can enjoy the joy of the moment and express as well as feel the love that still exists so strongly between Gregory and me.

If I spend too much time thinking about the before's or after's, I loose the precious now's.

Emotions are not bad. Emotions do not have to be "out of control!" My emotions surface as a barometer of where I am currently in my life and of how I am dealing with being alive.

So I feel that emotions are not bad, they can be helpful friends if you allow them to be. I welcome them when they surface, I thank them for the messages they bring, and I sit with them awhile even though they may make me sad and cause me to cry. Better said: As I allow them to make me sad and allow them to make me cry, and that is OK.

But then I thank them again and send them on their way so I can get back to living the joys and blessings of my life, of which there are many.

Another thing I do, if I do not have time to "sit with them awhile" is thank them, send them my love, and tell them "Not now! Please leave! Come back later when I have time to sit with you!"

It usually works for me.

This post of before and after was prompted by two photographs my friend Jan Yourist texted to me as she was helping Gregory with lunch today. Manny, Gregory's helper is on a religious retreat so I asked Jan to cover for today's lunch and I will be with him later in the afternoon, for dinner. and after to watch TV.

The before and after pictured below demonstrate how joy can be found in the present.

Jan's caption for the first photograph was: "I am hungry." Gregory looks good, is finally over his cough and cold, is able to keep his neck strongly straight, is focused, and posed for Jan's iPhone. He may not look happy but Jan interpreted it as, "I am hungry." And that is a fair interpretation.

This "after" photograph shows Gregory happy, smiling, probably chatty, stomach pleasantly full with Lieberman's delicious Kosher cooking (and it is good, I taste it often!) I do not need to add a caption as the photograph speaks for itself!

In closing, I could allow myself to be sad. I could dwell on who Gregory was in the past and who he is now. I could dwell on all he has lost and all I have lost. I could think about his being at Lieberman in his new narrow environment and me being at home in my environment which continues to grow. I could think of what lies ahead for Gregory and what lies ahead for me. While who knows what really will take place and when, most likely my outlook is better than his.

But why do that when I can choose to be happy. Happy to see this lovely photograph, glad he is well taken care of, glad he beat the recent cold, happy that we have such good friends like Jan who will take an afternoon to help out, happy. I just feel happy. The sad is still there but I thank it and tell it that right now I would rather be happy and maybe some other time I will allow myself to sit a while with sad!

This post is dedicated to Jan Yourist (click here to visit her blog) for her support as well as Corinne Peterson (click to see her site), (who hates to be called my Guru but she is) who has helped me to find peace of mind during Gregory and my journey!

Sad, Frightening, and Beautiful

Today at Lieberman I witnessed something sad, frightening, and beautiful.

First, the set up. Today at Lieberman we had an Oscar Previews Party. The staff wore formal gowns and heels. A few female residents wore beautiful hats with feathers or cabbage roses and a few male residents wore sport coats with a jaunty scarf tossed around the neck.. There was a red carpet to walk down and you could have your photograph taken by our volunteer photographer.

Slides of beautiful dresses, beautiful people, and previous Oscar winners over the years were shown, trailers from each film nominated for best movie were shown, all categories were discussed and residents could vote for whom they thought would win.

The first trailer was from Sharpshooter, biopic of Chris Kyle, the most-celebrated sniper in American military history. In the aftermath of 9/11, Kyle decides to serve his country by becoming a Navy SEAL.

Second, the sad and frightening. As we watched the trailer, Gregory began getting upset and his upset elevated fairly quickly. He got loudly verbal, anxiously shifted around in his wheel chair, and cried. The reaction was caused by the shooting and violence we were seeing in the trailer.

After ten or fifteen seconds of trying to calm him down, to no avail, I asked him if he would like to go out of the room. (I felt like a loving mother with a misbehaving child at the movies. Instead of expecting "self control," remove the child from the situation. ) 

He said, "Yes." 

I repeated, "Do you want to leave the room?" 

"Please," he said. 

He continued to get more and more upset emotionally as I was turning his chair around to head for the door when he picked up "Peaceful the Bear" and threw him down on the floor with such never before seen force and anger saying, "There!"

Up until then Peaceful was always loved and loving. Comforting. Watching this was amazing.

Third, the wonderful. Gregory and I hugged and rocked and I cooed calming words. He calmed down once we were away from the shooting and violence on the screen. The situation and discomfort was over and Gregory was OK again. I put Peaceful back into his lap and said, "Peaceful loves you!"

The beauty in this is that Gregory still has emotions and is able to express them. Also, it is important to note that the emotions are not unreasonable or out of control. Life has its ups and downs. It is good that Gregory is still able to experience them!

Impermanence

Things are changing again. For the last week or two I have been weighing in on the heavier side of sad when compared to joy.

When Gregory settles into a new "phase" of dementia; I compensate, get creative, learn to provide, cope, and as well get lulled into the false sense of security that this is how it will remain forever.

You have read about his recent "burbling" as a way of "playing with sounds" on his lips and in his mouth and to delight his ears. You have also read about his "routines" which while are not communication do provide positive interaction.

When Gregory is upset and tries to tell you something or when he is calm and tries to explain something he has plenty of words and sounds to use but on the outside, to you or me, they make no sense.

Most of the time he would be calm, content and happy. Now and then he would get upset but that was the exception.

When he would be upset I went into my, "It's all OK. Everything is taken care of. You have nothing to worry about. I have arranged everything." He would eventually ask, "Really?" And I assure him, "Yes." He would calm down. "Oh, good," he would reply.

When he was not upset and trying to explain something I would simply say, "I understand." or "I know." And that would usually satisfy him.

While I enjoyed those interactions and he was happy and alert and calm during that period, my antenna went up anyway watching for where this phase would go.

Recently he seems sad, upset, and not calm. His burbling and routine playing has moved into perseveration with the moods, ups and downs, happys and sads, cycling on and on.

In his interactions, he will become assertive, intense, and demanding. He seems less calm, content, and happy at this time.

It seems as though he gets into a loop and he cannot get out of it by himself. When he does this, the loop goes from one mood to the next quickly with more of them negative than positive.

When Manny or I am with him, we can usually defuse his behavior. When Gregory is with the group watching TV or in an activity before or after Manny or my being there, it is more difficult to control.

Several times he was removed from the group by an aide who was eventually able to calm him down. Recently they had to give Gregory an Ativan (drug for anxiety,) which didn't work so they gave him an Haldol (an antipsychotic as well as other conditions.)

Gregory is a strong man, and a big man, and when he gets upset the staff's concern is for Gregory's own safety and the safety of those around him. Thus the medications. The Lieberman nurses only use medications as a last resort and are very careful with that. I trust them.

So meanwhile, my soul is heavy, hoping that Gregory settles down into an acceptable behavior pattern again, which has happened in the past. At the same time, my intellect is preparing and wondering what steps might need to be taken next.

The psychiatrist has been involved and I have had discussions with the head nurse so I am not on my own in making these decisions. But I am on my own in dealing with my emotions and as I began this post ... the sad side has the advantage right now.

I will keep you informed.

Graph This

My life could be compared to a graph, a diagram showing the relation between variable quantities, typically of two variables, each measured along one of a pair of axes at right angles.

Sometimes I feel like a flat line, slogging through each day trying not to let too many emotions overwhelm me. I try not to think of the past, of Gregory when I am at home, of home when I am with Gregory.

Sometimes I feel like a saw toothed line, now up, now down, now happy, now sad.

Over time I am sure that the graph of my life is on an upward trend towards healing, towards coping, towards learning to live my life without the Gregory I first met some forty years ago.

When I am with him the line stands still, I am happy, the graph on hold. We have developed our small interactions that may or may not mean anything to an observer but which mean the world to us, a look here, a wink there.

I tell him I love him and he replies, "OK" or he shakes his head. Or I ask, "Do you love me?" and he nods. I get silly and in a high falsetto voice screech "I love you this much!" with my hands flying out to my sides or over my head. He giggles and that makes me laugh as well.

I take his Teddy Bear, named Peaceful, and put on a puppet show. The bear dances, and sings, and hugs Gregory while smothering him with kisses. Gregory laughs, or looks at Manny with his This Guy is Crazy look, and once Gregory grabbed the bear's nose in his mouth, biting and  "grrrrring" back at the bear as he shook his head from side to side bear style.

We hold hands with the hand holding in constant motion, perhaps to cut through the malaise  that often accompanies Gregory's inability to focus and to let him know, "I am here. I love you." I stroke his leg or squeeze his arm with the same message.

Or we sit in silence, just being there together; looking out the window, watching a movie on his television, spending time in the shaded park out back.

I give him treats which he easily receives as I pop them into his mouth: mini-cookies, chocolates, a drink of juice, a piece of fruit. Sometimes I put a pretzel rod into his mouth and he will reach up to hold it as he takes a bite and then continues to feed himself until the pretzel is gone.

I break into song, "If you're happy and you know it clap your hands," as I clap my hands. Second verse I clap his hands and sometimes he will continue clapping along as I sing.

When I am not with Gregory, the line can stand still as well. I loose myself in the here and now of a cup of coffee on the balcony over breakfast or on a walk in the neighborhood.

I sit at my computer and write as the ideas flow non-stop trying to keep up with my typing skills.

Grocery lists, folding towels, washing dishes, petting the cats come without the need for much through and they are good. A visit with friends or dinner out help time pass.

Then, when I least expect it, the graph line spirals out of control and I am mired in grief and sorrow and tears and loneliness. And I cannot imagine how I will continue to go on without the man who I love more than a graph could ever represent.

And I cannot see for the tears which splash my glasses and chill my face as they run down my cheeks. And the emotions are so strong that panic sets in at having to function while the emotions continue to escalate.

And graph lines have upward or downward trends, they DO NOT spiral. They do not spiral.

Then being spent, somehow a calm enters the lines of the graph and for a while the line is again flat. Emotions kept at bay. Sometimes up, sometimes down, sometimes happy, sometimes sad. And the next day will arrive, trending, trending.

I say I am aware of GRIEF sitting on my right shoulder 24/7/365 but also great JOY sitting on my left shoulder. Most of the time I am in balance.

Today at Lieberman

Today at Lieberman, a performance by a very talented young lady who sung Broadway favorites. Gregory was intent. Cried a little during "Memories" from Cats, cried a little more during "Summertime" from Porgy and Bess. After the performance we sat out in the park. While it is difficult for me when Gregory is sad, at least he still has emotions ... and that is good!

A July 4th Happy Birthday

Celebrating Gregory's birthday at the Lieberman Center with care giver Manny and companion/friend Alaksh. Gregory turned 66 today and it was with mixed emotions that we partied. In the first photo Gregory is not unhappy, just unfocused. In the third photo you will see his smiling face.

I think he knew it was his birthday and when I sang the birthday song to him on arrival he cried and I cried and we hugged. Later when we lit the candle and all sang, he sang along. After a little coaching and demonstrating, he blew out the candle. (P.S. He also blew out the candle on my cake last March.)

Really bittersweet. Devistating if I think of the past. Wonderful, grateful, and blessed when I think only of the here and now! 

Wisdom

Yesterday I played some Chopin for Gregory. He began to get upset, then choked up, then cried. I decided that the tears were probably good for him. I asked, "Are you happy or sad?"

He replied, "I am everything. I am all of it."

Can't get more enlightened than that!

Sad

Verge of tears

Precipice of dispair

So many fears

How will I fare

Helpless Helping

I must supervise you every time you go to the bathroom. I always tell you to use the bathroom before we go out and I suggest you use it after an hour or two has gone by at home. I visually make sure that you pull down not only your pants but also your underpants. Lately you lower yourself with great uncertainty onto the toilet seat.

I listen for "plots" or "tinkles." When you seem done, I tell you to sit for a while and sure enough you do more. You don't know when you have more to do so the waiting works. I can't ask, "Did you shit?" "Did you pee only?" to tell me what kind of help to give so I either have you "wipe" anyway or ask you to stand up so I can see what in in the toilet bowl.

I verbally go thought the steps with you of taking toilet paper, wiping, tossing into bowl and repeating until clean. I tell you to use a wet wipe next and sometimes have to help you open the box they are stored in. I flush in-between wipes if you are using a lot of paper.  Telling you to "Flush" doesn't register and confuses the process so I do it for you.

You are always amazed and sometimes upset when "something is happening down there" as if moving your bowels or urinating is an amazing, unusual event in your life. I used to say something like "taking a dump is good" but have stopped bothering and just say "It's OK. Good job."

You do not know how to use a kleenex to blow your nose but instead use fingers aiming the blow towards the floor. You did OK once I showed the box of tissue but then you did not know where to throw the used tissue. You did not know how to open the garbage can once I showed it to you.

You do not automatically know how to use the knife and fork any longer, and you use your fingers to eat a lot, which I don't mind at all. But now being able to pick up a piece of food in your fingers and biting off a piece is the next skill you are loosing.

You know you want a glass of water, and sometimes can even identify the glass sitting in front of you, but then you stare at it not knowing the next step.

It's hard enough to get you ready to go outside during the winter but even with help putting on your coat, you get your arms all tangled up in the sleeves, untuck the scarf once I have tucked it, stand at such an angle that I have difficulty zipping the coat closed, take your ear muffs off once I have put them on for you, cannot coordinate your fingers and thumb in the correct orientation, as well as closed position to put on your gloves.

When we arrive at our destination and I am helping you take off your coat I unzip the zipper, I tuck your gloves and earmuffs into the coat pockets, I tell you to take off your coat. This causes you to immediately take the gloves and earmuffs out of your pockets.

Fastening and unfastening your seatbelt in the car takes place correctly about fifty percent of the time. One time you got yourself so wrapped up and knotted up in the straps that I didn't know how to get you out. Finally figured it out but had to put you through some contortions. Often you do not know how to open the car door.

About half the time now when you read you forget to put on your glasses and wonder why the reading isn't working. Another half of the time you put on your glasses and wonder why the room is blurry. Sometimes you do OK with your glasses but I have to monitor when they are dirty and clean them for you.

We watch TV together a lot and that is a nice pass time. At times, your responses to my comments make we wonder if  you really understand what you are watching and sometimes the responses make me tip my head and wonder if we are watching the same program.

In our day to day conversation (meaning my talking) I'll point out something through the window of the condo or that we are passing while in the car. I can tell by the focus of your eyes that you are not looking at the same thing I am pointing out. Sometimes I try to directed your gaze and you finally register what I was talking about. Other times it just does't work and the experience has passed. I just say, "Never mind." It sound rude but what can I say. Maybe "Oops we missed it."

So even as I help you, I cannot help you and that makes me sad. And the part that probably makes me the saddest is that we cannot talk about what went wrong or about either of our frustrations. And I am sad that sometimes I do not know how to begin to help or what to do to help. And then there are times I am sad that I am sad and that makes you sad.

I still try to show you, or explain the steps as simply as I can, or demonstrate. I touch, I poke, I push, I suggest physically. Most of the time nothing works. Most of the time I feel so helpless especially as your needs continue to increase and mystify. And most of the time I feel sad.

Fearlessness

Shambhala Publications

THE FIRST TIP OF FEARLESSNESS

Sadness hits you in your heart, and your body produces a tear. Before you cry, there is a feeling in your chest and then, after that, you produce tears in your eyes. You are about to produce rain or a waterfall in your eyes, and you feel sad and lonely, and perhaps romantic at the same time. That is the first tip of fearlessness…In the Shambhala tradition, discovering fearlessness comes from working with the softness of the human heart.

http://www.shambhala.com/shambhala-4.html

Milestones

Often times milestones mark achievements and celebration. I am sad to report that the milestone Gregory and I reached tonight is not cause for celebration.

We were watching a movie and I noticed that he was becoming agitated. Nothing about the movie would have caused that. I asked, "Are you OK." And he said he was not. "What's the matter?" He didn't know. I made my usual suggestion, "Do you have to go to the bathroom?"

"Maybe," he said and got up. "Where?"

"Go to the bathroom." He left the room while I took a few more seconds to stop the video. I followed him into the bedroom where he was standing holding his penis. "Pull your pants down and go sit down." He didn't know what to do so I moved him into the bathroom and as I started to help him pull down his pants, releasing his penis, he began to pee. On himself. On the floor. On me.

He was very sorry and very apologetic. I was very soothing and calm and loving. He finished peeing in the toilet and I began to clean up the floor, took his pants and slippers off, and wiped up his leg. He apologized again and I told him it was nothing to be sorry about, just that there were implications involved. "You didn't recognize the "feeling" as an urge to go to the bathroom?" I asked/stated.

"I guess so," he answered. For a while now when I sensed he was upset about something I sent him to the bathroom and he was surprised that he had to take a dump. This is the first time that urination was the culprit. Also he had waited so long that he had the "accident."

The implications are my needing to be more alert to his changing mood, might need to check every hour or so by asking and/or sending him to the bathroom, might need to begin using what I called "Protection Pants." You get the drift of my euphemism.

All I can say, is that reporting this here is helping me get through my numbness, should help you to keep up with our "progress," and is part of my continuing open and honest (if not brutal) documentation of our journey.

Honestly, I am so sad and numb and worried about the future that I don't know what to do.  Tomorrow we are/were excited about a Wagner opera: 1:40 Act 1, 30 minute intermission, 1:05 Act 2, 30 minute intermission, and 1:10 Act 3, then the drive home. There is a handicapped bathroom on the main floor (where we are sitting) so I will just have to be super alert.

Meanwhile, for tonight, maybe a short TV show in favor of abandoning the long movie and some popcorn?

Emptiness

This article makes me feel only a little better but when I fell "empty" I equate it with "sad." It discusses emptiness as "an infinitely open space that allows for anything to appear, change, disappear, and reappear. The basic meaning of emptiness, in other words, is openness, or potential." and for the most part, that makes me feel sad. Alzheimer's does that! It helps you focus on the negative rather than the positive. I have been working on changing that for a long time now. Sometimes it works, other times it doesn't.

 Shambhala Publications

THE MEANING OF EMPTINESS

—Tsoknyi Rinpoche, from The Best Buddhist Writing 2013 http://www.shambhala.com/the-best-buddhist-writing-2015.html

“Emptiness” is a rough translation of the Sanskrit term shunyata and the Tibetan term tongpa-nyi. The basic meaning of the Sanskrit word shunya is “zero,” while the Tibetan word tongpa means “empty”—not in the sense of a vacuum or a void, but rather in the sense that the basis of experience is beyond our ability to perceive with our senses and or to capture in a nice, tidy concept. Maybe a better understanding of the deep sense of the word may be “inconceivable” or “unnameable.”

So when Buddhists talk about emptiness as the basis of our being, we don’t mean that who or what we are is nothing, a zero, a point of view that can give way to a kind of cynicism. The actual teachings on emptiness imply an infinitely open space that allows for anything to appear, change, disappear, and reappear. The basic meaning of emptiness, in other words, is openness, or potential. At the basic level of our being, we are “empty” of definable characteristics.
 

Soft Kitty, Warm Kitty

Gregory and I have been watching all of the episodes from the last seven years of "The Big Bang Theory." Sometimes we watch three for four episodes in one sitting. The show is about a friendship between four young scientists, each of whom is more eccentric than the next. Penny, who lives across the hall, becomes part of their group, and various other characters come and go over the seasons. 

Most often each episode is OVER THE TOP or VERBALLY SEXUALLY EXPLICIT or   SILLY or IRONIC or TOUCHING or ALL OF THE ABOVE put together!

In one episode, Sheldon (who is probably the most neurotic, psychotic, paranoid, self centered, and a general pain in the ass to live with) is sick. He explains to Penny that his mother used to sing "Soft Kitty" to him when he was sick and asks if she would sing it to him.

The beautiful thing about the relationship between all of the characters is that no matter how obnoxious or rude they are to each other and those around them, eventually their love and caring for each other  always shines through.

I find I am greatly attracted to the song and at one point began singing it. Gregory always raises a fuss when I sing the song ... but I sing anyway. I have taken to singing it to him when we go to bed at night. So why am I engaged with this little "jingle?"

I think that at heart, we are all frightened little boys (or girls) looking for someone or something to comfort ourselves. I think that life is overwhelming and often seems out of control and we are looking for a little peace of mind.

In my situation with Gregory, I find that I have no one to comfort me. Apologies to my family and friends reading this. I know that you care, that your are supportive, that you are there for Gregory and me. But when I get really sad, there is no one who can really rock me, hold me, comfort me, let me know everything will be OK, dry my tears; like my Gregory used to ... or my mommy ... but one of them is gone now and one is slowly leaving.

And yet, there is a lot of Gregory still here and even though his Alzheimer's is what is causing my sadness, I do not blame him or love him less. And therefore I guess I comfort myself as I comfort him by singing:

Soft Kitty

Warm Kitty

Little ball of fur

Happy Kitty

Sleepy Kitty

Purr Purr Purr

Click here to hear "Soft Kitty" on U-Tube.

How Many Times?

How often can I cry out to the mountains, pleading
When its weight in rocks is my life's daily pain?

Screaming NO NO NO in my sad, lonely silence
Until my throat and breathing cries NO NO NO.

Overwhelmed. Devastated. Exhausted. Sad.
Tears of blood flowing, washing down my face.

With my emotions which are no longer valid to him
But still oh so valid for me, oh so valid, oh so real.

He does not cause this, but I am brutally caused.
He does not control, this but I am cruelly controlled.

Not understanding even the words I very carefully use
Nor the explanations I still try to give, to help, to share.

We sit at the restaurant table with our closest friends
I hold his hand, stroking, trying to help him be involved.

Love cannot describe the immensity or the agony of my love
That no longer soothes but only torments and tortures.

How often can I cry out to the mountains, suffering
When its weight in rocks is my life's daily pain?

.

Just Reporting In

Today will probably be a 

Cry For More Than Fifteen Minutes
Day

An E-Mail to C and M, Our Niece and Nephew

C & M

How about a visit Wed August 7 through Sunday August 11? We have theater tickets the next weekend.Want to spend longer so G and I could enjoy the area, spend more time with R & L, and more being with M & D. Of course we can never get enough time with you guys but understand that you'll be working during the week. No expectations for your being available during the week.

Interesting comment on thinking about what is still to come. Do you have any idea of what you might be looking for? You certainly are a success in your personhood, your real estate career, your love relationship, etc But I guess that you are still young enough to aspire to more, bigger, better, different, etc. 

For me, I feel that I can relax on that account because I have achieved much and have what I want (given G's Alzheimer's.) I do not find the need to prove myself or to "earn my keep" in society. Been there done that. While Michael's Museum was great and continues to be a wonderful legacy I am happy it is over. I also recently quit Ragdale because my efforts and volunteerism there began to feel like a job. Feels good to say goodbye to them while I hold on to the fond memories of my residency in 2010.

One continuing desire is to be a published author. Not self-publicaiton but bigger. So I guess I think about that but not obsessively and many not strongly enough to really get it done. 

I have begun my first attempt at writing fiction. Based on my real psychic past life regression experience which I think we have talked about. I am researching the time period of each "life" and trying to flesh out a chapter for each person I have been based on the regressions: Carny, Nun, Farm Wife, Rural Child, and Renaissance Baker. 

Travel might be a possibility but only will happen if I can do it by myself, with G being taken care of, and while OK it is a little lonely to do so without him. P has said it would be fun to travel together. She spent a long weekend with G and I in Mexico and I think we would get along as travel partners. 

But for the most part I am content to be at home with Gregory. I can fantasize about big trips to Europe or Japan etc but don't really believe that I have it in me, even with help. Maybe when the ship comes in and we can take R or P along all expenses paid it would make it easier, or with you and M. Fun to think about.

I would like to have more avenues to express my creativity but that seems back door to getting through each day. Sometimes I think that I can NEVER be creative ENOUGH! 

I find that Gregory and my world continues to narrow and we pull in but that is probably a combination of old age and his illness. We keep busy, see friends, entertain, are entertained, enjoy the movies on DVD and our theater and opera adventures. I do not feel the need to accomplish anything great or volunteer and give give give anymore.

G's birthday party was best attended ever with close to 50 people attending. All had a good time. But I find myself saying I need to cut back, after all planning, executing, and cleaning up after a party like that for a man who is almost 70 years old takes its toll. I am not crying "old man" but am getting older, aren't I? Next year fully catered or just having people in for fireworks, cake, and birthday wishes.

Agreed good and bad are one and both part of being alive. One must take the one with the other.

Regarding your question, we are doing fine. I am feeling a little constricted since we have no companion and I had gotten used to have some freedom and alone time. I expect more students will respond to our notice when they begin returning to campus.

Meanwhile I have enlisted R and J to be with Greg for three times so I can investigate Memory Care Facilities in the area. We are far from that need with many options available but I want to know what is available and get a sense for how it might make me feel to think about having to place Gregory if and when it comes to that.

As far as sad, I am sad but that is part of the "life of good and bad" we spoke of. Some days seem slow and dull and others are more fun. But sadness seems to ride on my shoulders as part of who we are today. If I can get through a day evenly without not to many "confusions" with Gregory, I am content.

As far as Gregory's sad, I think he is just getting more and more tired, a little more withdrawn, and more settled into being "less." But he is happy, appreciative, enjoys his food and TV etc.

All for now.

Love you both lots.

m