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.

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.

• • •

www.dailyom.com

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.

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.

A Great Adventure

The book Healing After Loss: Daily Meditations for Working Through Grief, by Martha Whitmore Hickman, was recommended to me by Corinne Peterson, my yoga teacher and guru.

When I come across a particular salient passage, I will share it here with you. I highly suggest the book if you are currently, or will be dealing with death and loss.

Even as I stood there, the tears streaming down my face, I felt a kind of joy for him, a strange gayety almost, that he would so soon be released, and I had a sense that he stood now on the threshold of some great adventure ... so it was in a strange way not only a time of terrible sorrow, but a moment of light, as I stood there telling him goodbye.

No Apologies Necessary

Kate Swaffer shares some of her thoughts, memories, and fears on being diagnosed with Dementia. The video she created is moving and will help put you in her shoes.
http://kateswaffer.com/2015/09/03/women-and-dementia-3-dam2015-day-3/

This is the reply I wrote to her:

Dear Kate,

I wish I could take all your pain, your fears, your guilt and smooth the edges. I wish I could help you focus only on the strength of your love for those around you and for all of us who have come to know you.

I wish I could help you focus only on your family's and our love for you. I want to say, "We love you as you are and as you will be. You have given us so much with your perspective and your love, let us give some measure of peace of mind back to you in exchange." 

I am barely able to type this for the tears from your video as they help me to begin to understand what Gregory must have gone through but was unable to share with me. His inability to share was due to his loss of language.

Also, I believe that the Dementia/Alzheimer’s blessedly put up a buffer to the reality of what he was going through. In addition, the safe zone in every day living which I was able to create for him gave him peace. 

So I love  him with all my heart, more each day, and say it was and  is my duty to be there for him as he always, even today, has been for me. He is not a failure, he owes no apologies, he is love. He is my life.

I have no control over the details so I will embrace him always as he is, as he will become. I love him More Than Ever (the name we together gave our trust and educational foundation.)

Gregory knows, and I often tell him, how much I love him and I hope he knows that there is nothing in our relationship, in our 40 years together, in the world that he needs to apologize or feel guilty about. 

I also know he has forgiven me my trespasses and I do not feel guilty. There are some things I would have done differently during our journey with Dementia/ Alzheimer's but I did the best I could, and everyday I learned anew, and I did it with love in my heart.

My “Intuitive" described the hole that has been torn out of my chest, around my heart; with its pain and loneliness and tears; as the sacred place where Gregory and I can still be, and always will be. together. I will not try to fill that hole, I welcome it. 

Kate, may you find peace and comfort in your great love of family and of life and may you be reminded that all things are impermanent and this can be the joy of life as you quietly sit with it today and then tomorrow. I don't "know" you Kate, but I continue to come to fall in love you!

Fondly,

Michael

Reminders

Healing and tears are a constant that help to remind us that we are alive.

Joy, even though carried on the shoulders of Sorrow, also reminds us of this.

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?

Seven Days or a Week

It has been seven days since I was with Gregory. Six days in California and one day regrouping at home in Evanston. I took the extra day not only to regroup, unpack, and chill but also I was aware of some avoidance going on.

I was afraid to see Gregory, wondering how I would feel and wondering how he would react. Would he have missed me? Would he remember me? Now that the documentary "hoop-la" was over, how would it feel returning to my day to day and my visits to Lieberman.

When I turned the corner of the hall towards Gregory's room, he and Manny were sitting in front of the balcony doors, looking outside and singing. I just stood there and didn't say anything. Manny notice me and moved away from Gregory. Gregory kept singing.

I moved more in front of Gregory, put my hand on his knee, and smiled big. I still hadn't said anything. Gregory kept singing.

Finally I said, "Hello my love!" Gregory looked at me with a blank look on his face. "I love you!" Gregory's face changed to his 'oh I have a visitor look.' "I am back and here to visit you. Did you miss me?" Gregory's face slowly, ever so slowly, began to register and process who I was.

"Oh my. It's you," he mumbled through tears and swelling emotion. He began to sob and I leaned in, hugged and held him. I slowly backed away but he held tight and said, "Stay, stay." And I did.

For the next fifteen minutes or so, as I talked and as he mumbled, he went back and forth between laughing, and delight, and tears, and being overwhelmed.

I agreed that it had been along time since I had visited and I apologized explaining where I had been and said I would try not to do that again. Perhaps my part of the conversation was more for my benefit than his.

At one point he leaned forward, very strongly and emphatically pointed out the window and said, "I want to go there!"

"You want to go outside?" I asked.

"Yes!"

"OK, we can go outside if you would like." In my heart I heard him saying, "I want to go home. I am inside and I want to be outside." But who knows how accurate my heart is when it comes to interpreting Alzheimer's Speak.

Finally he calmed down and we just had a good visit, with souvenirs and drinks of water and mouthfuls of chocolate.

I took my leave to go to a meeting with our lawyer, telling Gregory I'd be right back in ten minutes and he let me go without a problem. When I returned he was back in his usual mode of welcoming me for a visit and the trauma of my week's absence seemed over.

So what happened? As best as I can tell, and based on feedback from Manny, Gregory did not miss me while I was gone but realized and experienced the emptiness of my having been gone when I returned. It took him longer to process my face, who I was, what I meant to him and like a developing photograph, the negative image slowly became a positive image.

He was more overwhelmed by the memory of my absence triggered by my return than he was by the actual absence. Either way, we are both happy that I am home and I eagerly look forward to seeing him again today and visiting with the rest of my Lieberman Family as well.

Tears, Suffering, and Emotions

When I was going through chemo for Lymphoma some ten years ago, my doctor told me, "It is OK to cry ... but only for 15 minutes at a time." If you find you are crying for longer than that call me, I can help.

Buddhism tells me, "It is OK to sit with your suffering without being judgmental, just sit with it. See if there are any messages in it for you. Then bless it and have it go on its way as you go on your way."

Giving into emotions is OK and they tell me, "You are feeling these emotions as a barometer of how you are doing in this situation. Thank them, look for lessons in them, and then move on."

If you feel that you will become overwhelmed by your crying, suffering, and/or emotions or do not want to deal with them right at the moment, bless them, thank them, tell them you cannot sit with them right now. Invite them to come back another day when you are feeling stronger and send them on their way.

This may seem difficult to do but as I practice it often enough it works easily and well for me. Although one time when I was really feeling down and at the same moment I invited them to leave, the fire alarm system in my condo (it was around midnight) went off announcing "An emergency has been noted. Walk to the nearest exit stairwell and evacuate the building."

I got dressed, left the building, walked outside back to the lobby, found out that it was a false alarm, went back to my condo, and realized that in effect I was distracted enough that I was feeling better. I told my tears, suffering, and emotions that next time they should leave quietly!

A Ghost In This House

I cry fairly easily now days when I am home alone. After spending four or five hours with Gregory each day that Manny has been out with a cold, I experience such wonderful, new, little touches of Gregory that I didn't realize I have been missing.

Some are glimpses of Gregory's knowing who and what and where he is. Some are celebrations of our love. Some are demonstrations of his trying to communicate with my agreeing supportively to who knows what. Some are little, whispered, "I love you" from his lips. Some are rocking together in our sorrow. Some are tears of joy. Others are tears of loss.

Then I come home to my empty house. That screams out his absence. That screams out "Never More." And I cry.

I love my home, I enjoy being here, but when I allow myself, I despair at Gregory's not being here with me.

This evening I have been watching "American Voices," a PBS special about all types of American music that is hosted by my friend opera singer Renee Flemming. One of her guests Alison Krauss, a Country Western singer, sang this song below. 

And I cried. And I felt a loss so great that if I allowed myself to visit it too deeply, I could not breath and would die as quickly as Gregory dies slowly. And as much as he is no longer the man he was, I so dread his death and his leaving me, and I cry and I die.

ALISON KRAUSS LYRICS

"Ghost In This House"

I don't pick up the mail
I don't pick up the phone
I don't answer the door
I'd just as soon be alone
I don't keep this place up
I just keep the lights down
I don't live in these rooms
I just rattle around

I'm just a ghost in this house
I'm just a shadow upon these walls
As quietly as a mouse I haunt these halls
I'm just a whisper of smoke
I'm all that's left of two hearts on fire
That once burned out of control
You took my body and soul
I'm just a ghost in this house

I don't care if it rains
I don't care if it's clear
I don't mind staying in
There's another ghost here
He sits down in your chair
And he shines with your light
And he lays down his head
On your pillow at night

I'm just a ghost in this house
I'm just a shadow upon these walls
I'm living proof of the damage
Heartbreak does
I'm just a whisper of smoke
I'm all that's left of two hearts on fire
That once burned out of control
And took my body and soul
I'm just a ghost in this house
Oh, I'm just a ghost in this house

Oh My!

I arrived at Gregory's room at 3:30 this afternoon. He was in his wheel chair, Manny sitting next to him, and they were watching TV.

I announced myself, "Hi. My love! It's me!"

Imagine in Gregory's voice, choked with joyous emotion, articulately, "Oh my! You are home!" Then he cried.

"Yes here I am and I love you soooo much!" I hugged him and we rocked.

Another Momentary Monumental Miracle.

Happy Gregory

Pensive Gregory as I was telling him about Gabe Schimmel, son of his college roommate John Schommel, coming to Chicago to film a documentary about our Journey! 

"I think that is good." he commented. Yet another Momentary Monumental Miracle!

I'm Not Going to Miss You

Have I posted this previously? It is the song that Glenn Campbell wrote in his dealing with Alzheimer's as a farewell. I have previously posted it but I cried again through it on the Oscar Awards. Cry? No sob, howl. Panic that I would loose myself in my grief and not be able to be found! So I slowed myself down, tucked my grief back into the past, and for now will let it stay there. I hurt beyond belief at all that I have lost, at all that Gregory and I can no longer have in common, at all we can no longer share, and at all that Gregory will no longer miss. I just need to get through tonight so I can get up early and go to Lieberman to hug and kiss and love Gregory who I miss and will miss more and more, and maybe I'll cry into his shoulder.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U8TsAh-zYFI

I'm still here, but yet I'm gone
I don't play guitar or sing my songs
They never defined who I am
The man that loves you 'til the end

You're the last person I will love
You're the last face I will recall
And best of all, I'm not gonna miss you
Not gonna miss you

I'm never gonna hold you like I did
Or say I love you to the kids
You're never gonna see it in my eyes
It's not gonna hurt me when you cry

I'm never gonna know what you go through
All the things I say or do
All the hurt and all the pain
One thing selfishly remains

I'm not gonna miss you
I'm not gonna miss you

Crying Myself Silently

I have learned to cry myself silently
Without making a silly squeak
No body shakes or loud noises
But tears still as large as sobs

A song, an idea, a line in a play
Bring on a wave of emotions
I have learned to cry myself silently
But tears still as large as the ocean.

A thought, a memory, a photograph
Bring on an attack of emotions
I have learned to cry myself silently
But tears still as large as wars

Over time, I have learned to say
"Thank you emotions
"Thank you tears
"Just not right now

Sunday's at Lieberman

A talented young man named Alex sung Sinatra type songs, Rock & Roll, and Old Favorites today for an audience of about 75. Cheryl join us for the festivities.

The folks were really engaged with his performance and joy abounded. At one point Gregory was so moved by the music that he embraced Peaceful the Bear with a tear in his eye.

Finally, never underestimate the power and joy of music in even the most challenged situations.

Finger Painted Tears

My tears flowed like colored finger paint on glossy paper. Sounds like an interesting simile or metaphor or first line of a new poem.

Today I went to Liberman at the crack of dawn, which for me means leaving the house at 9:00. Katharine, the Lieberman Art Therapist and I scheduled a session with Gregory in the Art Lab to see what he could do with finger paints.

You are reminded that three or four years ago he picked up oil painting as a new hobby, under the mentorship of Nancy Rosen (http://www.nrosen.com.) He took to it like the proverbial fish to water (ironically he used to refer to himself as a fish who needs to be in water, thus swimming as often as he was able in the pool in our condo building.)

In the three short years he worked with Nancy he produced over 200 pieces, mostly large 25"x25" and 25"x35", and some smaller 10"x10". He had a show at the Lincolnwood Town Hall Gallery which was very well received and most recently a show at Lieberman in which most of the 26 paintings sold!

Since he moved to the Liberman Center he has continued to decline and has lost many more skills: like painting and swimming. But he doesn't seem to mind and continues to live as he always has with a calm demeanor.

I, on the other hand, was not as ready to let go of his painting. So I purchased thick primary crayons and colored pencils and tablets of paper. To no avail.

I found ergonomic crayons that you could grip with your fist and which were thick enough so as not to break under pressure. To no avail.

I discovered another type of crayon which you can "wear" on each finger. Picture cone shaped crayons into which you insert your finger. To no avail.

Still not giving up I purchased a box of tubes of finger paints and a large tray in which sits the finger painting glossy paper. Today that was put to the test.

Gregory was very pleased to see me and we greeted each other with hugs and kisses which is the usual. I told him that, "We are going to go paint. Would you like that?" He got very excited and gave me a chain of "Yes. Oh my. Wonderful. Wow."

On the way to the elevator his upbeat joy continued and I felt buoyant but also filled with a little dread that finger painting wouldn't work either. I put this feeling aside in the name of "If at first you don't succeed, try try try."

We got him into a silly painting apron and while Katharine went to look for large playtex gloves, Gregory and I reviewed the colors of the tubes of paint. He actually repeated after me for PURPLE, GREEN, and PINK but then stopped mimicking. He does that. He is good for the first few but then he "turns off."

It wasn't as hard to get him into the gloves as I thought it would be when we first began. He did not resist and that was good.

The reason we used gloves was not only because it would be easier to clean up his hands afterwards, but I remembered that when he was working with Nancy he hated it when his hands got dirty from the oil paints and she had to help him wash many times during a painting session.

At first Katharine and I demonstrated and encouraged. Then we put his hands through the motions. Then a small (LARGE) miracle took place.

He was actually focused on the sheet of paper and the blob of paint (he usually has trouble focusing but this time he was on task.) He began to move his hand around through the paint spreading it up and then down.

Next he began tapping his finger on the paper and noticed the colored design his tapping created.

He was having such a good time and he was really engaged with the process. Of course if it was you or me we would jump in at 9 or 10 on the finger painting scale while Gregory was woking at the 2 or 3 level, but he was working and that was wonderful.

Periodically we had to ask Gregory to pick up his head, or open his eyes, or refocus on the paints and paper but he really was enjoying himself and continued to be engaged for close to the entire 30 minutes.

I sobbed but didn't want to distract Gregory so turned it into a cough. I think Katharine noticed and I think she was as overjoyed as I was. We worked at this for about half an hour with pink and green and purple and blue and yellow.

When asked if he would like to paint again he definitely answered, "YES." So we have another play date next Friday. At that point I'll share some photographs of the process and the product.

Meanwhile, shed a finger paint tear or two with me at the joy of having been able to give this experience to Gregory. Celebrate Katharine for her patience and perseverance that payed of for Gregory. Thank Lieberman for being perceptive enough to recognize how important the arts are for all of their residents, even those severely at risk due to dementia.

Entertainment Sundays at Lieberman

Todays classical piano concert, performed by Maralgua “Maggie” Darjaa, was a hit with the over 60 residents who attended "Entertainment Sundays at Lieberman." To louder than usual applause, shouts of YES! and BRAVA!, and a standing ovation by those who were able,  the audience really appreciated Maralgua’s well executed pieces by Chopin, Beethoven, and Mozart.

Gregory was especially moved as Chopin is his favorite and while Gregory's abilities are gone, he used to play very athletic classic pieces on our Grand Piano. When it was time to sell the piano because he could no longer play it, his comment was, “Well I can always relive these days by listening to our CD’s.” That is how calm and accepting Gregory has always been.

One photo shows Gregory with a tear running down his cheek. He was crying with joy at hearing one of his favorite pieces. Later in the concert, I placed his hands around my wrists and pretended to play the piece we were listening to. I know enough about piano to know when my right hand is hitting the higher notes and my left hand hitting the lower notes. Wiggling my fingers and moving left to right, I also kept rhythm to the piece as it was played. Gregory seemed to enjoy this experience and when I looked down at his feet, it looked like he was working the pedals of his piano. Afterwords he thanked me and it actually felt like he thought he had played the piece. The truth? The reality? Doesn't matter. We both had a "moment."

Always

Yesterday at Lieberman the Sunday afternoon entertainment was provided by Eraina on the piano. After playing several classical selections, she passed out a booklet of tattered, well used, but large print readable, clearly numbered lyric pages. The songs she selected were good for the "crowd" and I was surprised how many of the attendees were able to read and/or sing along.

One in particular moved me to tears as I sang it to Gregory. What made it poignent was that he looked at me, with intense eye contact through the entire song. Often he has trouble focusing, let along for a long period of time. This time he was mine, and I was his. He even knowingly shook his head "Yes" several times. We held hands throughout.

Here is the song:

https://soundcloud.com/mhorvich/always
as sung by Mandy Patinkin

Opens in new window. Click red arrow in upper left hand corner to hear song.

ALWAYS

Everything went wrong,
And the whole day long
I'd feel so blue.
For the longest while
I'd forget to smile,
Then I met you.
Now that my blue days have passed,
Now that I've found you at last - 

I'll be loving you always
With a love that's true always.
When the things you've planned
Need a helping hand,
I will understand always.

Always.

Days may not be fair always,
That's when I'll be there always.
Not for just an hour,
Not for just a day,
Not for just a year,
But always.

Dreams will all come true
Growing old with you
and time will fly
carrying each day more
than the day before
'til spring rolls by
then when the spring  time has gone
then will my love linger on 

I'll be loving you, oh always
With a love that's true always.
When the things you've planned
Need a helping hand,
I will understand always.

Always.

Days may not be fair always,
That's when I'll be there always.
Not for just an hour,
Not for just a day,
Not for just a year,

But always.

Not for just an hour,
Not for just a day,
Not for just a year,
But always.