You say tomato I say tomato

John’s family went on vacation and for the first time since he’s been back from California we could do things we wanted to do when we wanted to do them. Sure we still went to work and did laundry, but we didn’t have to plan our free time around taking Pops to the flea market, making him meals or helping him with the lawn work. There is NO resentment for any of those things. John has honestly become best friends with his Dad and we both enjoy every minute we spend with him. I’m guessing its like people with kids. Parents love their children but can get so caught up in their kids lives they forget they had one before they came along.

Over the eight years we’ve been together John and I have had a life. My parents may read this so just take my word for it.

Then we got dogs. Cages only work for so many hours a day. Late nights out and spur of the moment trips became less frequent. It is as close to parenting as we ever wanted to get.

Now we have become care takers. What we learned while all alone in the big Burg is that we have to take care of ourselves and each other too.

What did we do with our week back on the wild side?

We hiked. We ate at ethnic restaurants We took yoga classes. Crazy right? Wait for the big one…..we planted our garden!

John has always had a green thumb. Even in Hilton Head, with week old dishes in the sink and a layer of beer burps covering all that he inhabited he had gorgeous ferns. In Asheville we were surrounded by farms and local food enthusiasts so he devoured the book Square Foot Gardening and provided our kitchen with herbs, tomatoes and peppers. It was his thing though. I could see the garden. I ate what came out of the garden. I was not part of the garden.

This time we did everything together. We laid out the plot, potted the herbs, fertilized and watered – all together. Its still a work in process but we are already cutting herbs for dinner. We have 24 varieties so really the challenge is figuring out how to use them all. Heirloom tomatoes, purple jalepenos, japanese eggplant, tomatillos, chives, cucumbers…

There’s a lot of garden analogies out there about planting a seed and letting it grow. Like we planted a seed of our love for each other. Yuck. That is not where I’m going. What I’m saying is spending quality time together and it being something that we come home every day and work on together gives us our own “secret garden”. What needs repotted? What looks good? What are we going to do with all this mint (4 varieties I might add)? It is our thing and its so much more enjoyable to reap the harvest with someone who has shared in the work.

As with most couples, John and I have been through a lot. Moving to Lynchburg and watching his father decline has added to that lot. As we continue to blend our two lives together and share more activities we not only enjoy the activies but each other more. It also makes the load a lot easier to carry.

Tags: couples, dogs, garden, herbs, Lynchburg, Lynchburg blogger

Memories are for the Good Stuff

I REFUSE to say I have been too busy to write. If you are too busy to do something you want, then you don’t really want it – if you want something its worth the effort.  I HAVE been focusing my time and energy on my yoga teacher training.

Many times along my illustrious career path I have thought about going to school. What I remember about college is having a lot of free time, getting to really immerse myself in a topic – reading, researching and debating. How cool would it be to go back to school now that I know what I really want to be when i grow up? It is cool, but it isn’t as easy as I remember. I’m not even partying, cramming at the last minute or walking around in my pajamas all day. I’m pretty much a fully functioning adult – and going back to school is hard.

John and I have been settling into life in the Burg. We have friends, some favorite restaurants, jobs and we just potted 26 herbs for our patio. We often compare the Burg to the places we have lived before and then wonder why we left. All we remember now are the fantastic things that we no longer have.

From Hilton Head, we long for the beach (of course), drinks at Pool Bar Jim’s, and our friends. From Asheville we miss the amazing restaurants, the hipsters and our friends. When we left these places mind you we complained of Palmetto bugs, the tourists, the small towness; and after that move there was the winters, the hipsters and the lack of jobs.

Last month I met my Dad in D.C. He goes every year for work and since I was in high school, taking me with him has been our father-daughter ritual. Being in the city made me miss when I lived in New York City. I was thrilled to walk the streets and take the subway, everything was open at any time of day. There was culture and energy….I forget about the expense (I could lie in my bed and touch both of my walls in my apartment), how my feet ached (of course I was wearing very fancy shoes) and people everywhere all the time.

Perhaps we are exhibiting the first signs of Alzheimers.

In all the stories he tells and all the people he knows, Pops never has a bad memory. He may have some problems putting names with faces or remembering the details, but he only has smiles and laughs. He never wishes for more or searches for something better. He is happy with himself and with his life. I find it hard to believe he never had stuggles or disagreements and I also don’t think he’s just forgotten because of his disease. I believe none of the bad really mattered.

Pops will have all the really mattered with him, always, irregardless of his disease. At some point he may not remember who we are when he sees us – but he will have the memories of who we are and what we did together in his mind. All the memories will still be there,they just won’t be able to get out. It is comforting to me to know that Pops will be a child again, living his life through his memories. He will be living the best, most perfect life – only the good stuff with all the people he has ever known.

Recently his drivers license was taken away. He was mad for a minute. Now he has decided to sit back and enjoy the ride. We take him where he wants to go and let him point us to the fastest route. Nobody knows how to get around the Burg better than Pops. Its easier for him to tell his stories from the passenger seat and wave at all the people he knows. Often he waves and asks us who it was. When we tell him we have no idea he tells us a story about them. A good memory.

Tags: Alzheimer''s, Asheville, driving, Hilton Head, losing drivers license, Lynchburg, Lynchburg blogger, memories, moving, New York City, yoga

Porter has two homes

It has been way too long since I sat down to write. From the comments I received after my last post I know I left you hanging about the whole marriage thing. And, you’ll have to wait a little longer for details as I still don’t know what we are doing – but yes, we are tying the knot.

We moved into our own home and other than some decor, we are unpacked and getting into a routine. Besides my clothes, all my belongings had been in storage since last March. Getting it out and in my own space has brought back order and sanity. I’m sure Momma and Pops feel the same way. Having two extra adults and three dogs in your home for five months probably wasn’t their idea of peaceful retirement.

I don’t care what “they” say – home is not where your heart is. Home is where you can walk to your room naked after you get out of the shower. Home is where you can come in after 9 pm and not worry about waking people up. Home is where your stuff is where you put it. If you ask my dogs, home is where they can lay on the couch all day.

Pops is worried that if things get bad he’ll be taken out of his home and put in THE home. We’ve briefly discussed with him that he would be welcome to be cared for in our home. Pops doesn’t like that idea either. He is adamant that he worked hard all his life for his home and that he feels comfortable in his own home. This I understand.

In the time we lived with John’s parents, John and his Dad have become friends. Not because they had to and not because John feels sorry for his Dad. Pops is a cool dude. He is funny, friendly and interesting. Both John and Pops are making sure they still get together almost daily for yard work, watching westerns and cruising the flea market.

The one thing Pops wasn’t willing to give up when we moved, and it was very unexpected, was his time with Porter. I’ve written before about the bond these two old men have, but I always assumed the responsibility of having Porter on his own would be too much.

Mr. Porter

The day we packed up the truck and headed across town Pops felt it would be too hard for Porter to find his way around the boxes and that it would be best if we waited to get him when we were unpacked.

After visiting our home, Pops felt that the steps Porter would have to walk down to get to their huge perfect dog yard would be too hard on him. The next day it was raining and Porter didn’t want to get out in the rain. The next day was too cold.

Finally Pops told John that he needed Porter’s company because he got lonely.

I worried that John would be upset as the bond Porter and he had was broken during his long absence in California. I also worried that maybe the move would be too hard on Porter. He can hardly see or hear and learning the layout of a new house might make him deteriorate even faster.

Porter decided things on his own. Although he had stayed at Pop’s house without us before when we would go out of town, he knew the difference when all of our stuff was gone. I don’t know how, but he did. We found out that he had been barking all night. He missed us.

We brought him home. His home is with us and his two sisters that pester him to death.

John stays all night with Pops when Momma goes out of town. He takes Porter with him. Usually, Porter takes a couple days longer getting back home than John does. But in the end, everyone has to go home.

Tags: Alzheimer''s, dogs, home, home is where the heart is, Lynchburg, Lynchburg blogger, moving

24-hour Moving Meditation

I’ve practiced yoga on and off for the last 10 years. Since moving to Lynchburg I reguarly take class at Bikram Yoga of Lynchburg. There is much debate about Bikram being “real” yoga – and I of course have all kinds of opinions – but that’s for another blog. If you are interested, read this.

One of the biggest differences between a Bikram class and other forms of yoga is that every class is the same – the same dialogue from the teacher and the same poses in the same order – every time,. This is one of the reasons I hesitated to take Bikram classes reguarly. I felt it would get boring. I found that there was one thing that was different in every class, however – ME. The emotion, determination, stress, persistance, laziness I bring into the room makes each class different. It also takes away the excuse that a “bad” class happens because of the teacher, a new pose or an unfamiliar flow.

My Bikram teacher describes the class as a 90-minute moving meditation. We can turn our brains off because we aren’t trying to figure out what’s coming next. 

The family has noticed changes in Pops and his disease seems to be progressing. He is struggling harder to have conversations, forgetting more details, becoming easily nervous or frustrated and leery of doing things without a companion. Pops functions his best when he sticks to his routine. Pops kind of lives in a moving meditation.

I’ve spoken before of his daily and weekly routines. With the Christmas holiday came dinners, parties, shopping trips and visitors – all taking him out of his comfort zone. I have a hard time managing the commitments and stress holidays can create (see how long its been since my last blog post.) This holiday literally made Pops lose his mind (his own words).

John and I know more than ever that we made the right decision in moving to help care for and connect with Pops. We also know its important to find some kind of balance so that we can enjoy our life with each other.  We will soon be moving into our own home, 10 minutes away. Unlike most parents who would be thrilled to have their adult children move out, Pops teared up at the news. We have become part of his routine.

The New Year is on the horizon as are other changes. John and I will be getting married. I have enrolled in Yoga Teacher Certification program. John hopes to start his own landscaping business. I’m sure life will continue to throw curve balls as well. All things that draw us out of routine.

Every day, I take 90 minutes to meditate, allowing me to de-stress and re-energize.  How can we keep Pop moving in his meditation when life just keeps happening?

Tags: Alzheimer''s, Bikram Yoga, Bikram Yoga of Lynchburg, family, holidays, life balance, Lynchburg, Lynchburg blogger, meditation, moving meditation, New Year, routine, yoga

Waylon Jennings and the White Deer

Just the good ol’ boys. Never meaning no harm. Beats all you ever saw, getting in trouble with the law since the day they was born.

Straightenin’ the curves. Flattenin’ the hills. Someday the mountain might do em, but the law never will.

Making their way. The only way they know how. That’s just a little bit more than the law will allow.

- Waylon Jennings

Hope my readers haven’t forgotten about me. Considering I write about Alzheimer’s its entirely possible.

Farmer John is home. Although I was extremely excited to see him – life is NOT like the movies. One short evening of romance and reality is back. Looking for a home, looking for  jobs, finding stuff in our storage unit, more family visiting for the holiday and …. I’ve lost two weeks.

Farmer John has also thrown off our routines, and with two parents, one adult and three dogs he has altered the capacity of the home to FULL. As happens with most of us, no matter how old or how long we have lived on our own, he has fallen into the time warp that happens when we are back with our parents. Although Pops loves to reminisce, no one wants to re-live the “traumas” of their childhood. I have my own and I don’t need his.

Farmer John has taken over flea market duty. My evening AMC movies have switched to football with he and John. I don’t really enjoy a lot of the stuff I do with Pops and I’m sure John is much better at yard work than me, but I do miss my time with Pops. For  a moment I felt like I was just going to be the cook and the maid.

But, only for a moment….

Rumor has it there is an albino deer in our neighborhood. Pops knew I had been keeping an eye out. One day while vaccumming, Pops ran down the stairs shouting my name. Immediately my stomach dropped as his behavior seemed to show pure panic.

“Ginjah. Get in the car now.”

I ran out front and hopped in the Buick. Pops started driving down the dead end street, towards the dead end.

“Ginjah. The white deer is down at Pete’s.”

Other than Waylon on the radio there was not a sound. Pete’s was five houses down so I’m not sure why we were driving, but we were on a mission and we were being quiet.

We coasted in the driveway. Opened the car doors and looked to make sure the other didn’t slam theirs shut. We tiptoed around the house and there, at the fence, was a baby pure white deer.

We watched without saying a word until the deer followed the creek into the woods beyond our sight. Pops looked at me and smiled. He had saved and shared this moment with me.

 

So I didn't grab my camara in the commotion. It did look exactly like this.

 

 

Tags: albino deer, Alzheimer''s, childhood, family, Waylon Jennings

Blasts from the Past

Know what the good thing about Alzheimer’s is? You meet new people every day! - joke author unknown

My nephew are as they say cousins & friends. I hope they stay that way and can enjoy looking at this picture when they are 80.

Pops is from Lynchburg as is his family, so friends and kinfolk are abundant. I’ve noticed that although Pops recognizes every face he often can’t remember their name, or exactly how he knows the person. Every meeting becomes a reunion of sorts as these details are sorted out.

Without Corley there would be no O&A.

We all enjoy seeing old friends and distant family members that we don’t do such a good job of keeping in touch with (or maybe we don’t want to keep in touch with).  I bet, however, that we also remember every snub, indescretion or disappointment inflicted by these people. I have even cut people out of my life because they reminded me of someone I didn’t want to be anymore.

One of my oldest and dearest friends from High School. He knows too much.

Pops has none of these hangups. When he runs into a familiar face he is as excited as a kid at Christmas. He tells everyone all day who he ran into and that they are a “good ol’ thing”. Never is it mentioned that so and so hurt his feelings or was a jerk. Never does he whisper gossip about them as they turn to go. Never does he open his eyes wide at me – the universal sign to get him away from the person he is acting like he likes but really doesn’t.

Through writing this blog and the miracle of Facebook, I have had the honor of several old friends as well as some past acquaintances reach out to me. I caught myself looking for ulterior motives and trying to script my life to be perfect and fantastic.

As happens frequently, I thought of Pops and how he handles his every day blasts from the past. I’m here to help Pops, but more often than not I am the one learning how to get it right.

Island friends. Thank you Hopester for inspiration.

Some much needed companionship, understanding and simple joy has come from opening myself up to who and what I now am and relearning who and what my blasts from the past now are.  It seems we all turned out pretty good. I hope to take them all with me as I continue my journey.

Note: Do not be offended if you are not pictured. Do not be offended if you are pictured.

Tags: Alzheimer''s, blast from the past, family, friends, making new friends, old friends, remembering friends

As a Care Giver, It’s OK to Not Care

Years ago, when my friend’s daughter was probably two, she developed a short lived poop fetish (although her mom probably felt like it was very long lived).  She would hide in her room, poop in her pants or on the floor, and smear it all over the walls. I had heard about her doing this several times over the phone. I showed up one evening for wine and trashy TV immediately after one of her poop paintings. Her mother was completely embarrassed. Although the smell was well, bad, it wasn’t my house, wasn’t my kids – I didn’t really care. Five years later, I’m guessing her mom can find it funny. I do predict that when this young lady brings home her first beau, this story comes up and SHE can be embarrassed.

Everything my parents did used to embarrass me. Their very presence elicited eye rolls and shrinking into my clothes. I’m not sure how myself and my friends thought we had all gotten there without parents – but we definitely wanted to be rid of them.

I recently attended soccer games for both my newphew and my niece. Their mothers, my sisters, yelled praise and instructions at their children the whole game. Everytime they could hear their mother’s voice you could see them grimace in embarrassment. It was fantastic!

With age and experience, all the embarassment of youth disappears. In fact, I miss my parents being close enough that I can hear them cheer for me. I wish they still knew all my friends and in fact it would be great if they still drove me around everywhere. All things that made me sink down into the Earth before.

Although this is not me, it could be me in any picture throughout Jr. High.

Alzheimer’s can often produce “embarrassing” behaviors. The person may tell the same story, over and over. They may not be able to complete sentences, recognize former friends, or may just be slightly inappropriate.

Sometimes I’m not in the mood to deal with these “embarrassments” when Pops and I go out. I find reasons to stay home, often making the excuse that HE will be more comfortable.

The truth is – he doesn’t care, friends and family don’t care – why should ?. He actually still enjoys going places and being social. If my parents had quit doing stuff with me because I was embarrassed I wouldn’t have very many memories of growing up.

My new motto in caring for Pops is – I Don’t Care. If he wants to do something and he is having fun – I Don’t Care if its awkward. I will have the memories to laugh with for a lifetime.

Please don’t tell Farmer John. He has grown a large hideous mustache out in California that I want shaved off when he returns. If he knows “I don’t care” ……..

Tags: Alzheimer''s, care giver, embarrassment, family, I don't care, memories