MARKING TIME

This is about me. Selfish? Maybe, I don’t know.

People are always asking me how I am doing and I usually feel I am doing really well – considering. James is still able to be with people, go out to eat, feed himself, even sometimes contribute to the conversation. He dresses himself, takes a shower alone (when I can get him to). He is easy to be with. These are the “good times” alzheimerswise. So why wouldn’t I be doing well?

But I sometimes I feel like I am marking time.

Marking time until what? Waiting for his death? I don’t want him to die. Waiting for all the bad times? For times when he reaches the bad stages I can’t cope with? I don’t know.

I have started trying to paint again. I moved all my painting stuff to a corner of the living room. It is a big mess and looks awful but this is the way I work best – with everything at hand. So what difference does it make? I have painted the most awful pictures I’ve ever seen. Where are all those pictures I used to paint that I was pleased with? I am trying to do portraits. Why? I don’t know. I am completely unable to get a likeness. I bought a mirror so I could do self portraits. At least I am patient with myself and not critical if I put in all the wrinkles. My first self portrait is a picture of an old woman with big eyes – much bigger than mine. I have cut them down once. The turkey gobbler flap under the chin doesn’t look right. It is just a big flesh colored glob. The forehead is too big; I need to bring more hair down to cover up some of it. When I finish it I will let it sit around for a while and then paint something else on top of it.

And yet I have wonderful, wonderful times. I don’t know what I would do without my children and grandchildren. My cousins make a great social life for James and me. The Methodist Men take James places which he still loves to go.

And I still have my garden – a blessing or a curse? I think I will go out and plant more purple hull peas – this is the right phase of the moon.

Maybe next time I will be in a better mood. Thank you for putting up with me.

SOPHIE

I painted the picture of Sophie, one of the dogs in the family. All the other dogs are giant sized Labs.

One of the family members calls Sophie “Princess” since she has all the traits and looks of a princess.

Another family member says that if Barbie had a dog it would be Sophie.

Another member said that in that case she would not last long that GI Joe’s dog would eat her.

Another small Sophie story – When she was brought home as a puppy one of the Labs loved to play with her. They would bounce around and run all over the house. The Lab would pick her up in his mouth and carry her around, always being gentle never hurting her at all. After a day of playing they were exhausted and slept like babies. Aren’t we lucky to have dogs in our lives?

One of these days I will tell about one of the Labs. The one that reminds us of the movie Marley and Me. They had him neutered for all the usual reasons but also because NO ONE WANTS THIS DOG REPRODUCED!!!

DINNER AT JANET'S

We went to Janet’s last night for dinner.  When we got there, two of their grandsons and one of their wives were there.  It was so good to see them; the last time I had seen them I was taller than they were and had never met the wife.  Janet had already told them they could not eat dinner because she did not have enough.  Joe complained that they interrupted him and made him forget his cooking.  He said it would be a religious dinner; we were having burnt offerings. 

After we had finished eating, some more of their family dropped by and we sat around talking “family talk”.  It was mentioned that one of the relatives might move back to Texas.  He works for a grocery chain called Super One which they said was part of Brookshire’s.  Someone else asked what was the difference between Brookshire’s and Super One.  James answered spelling out “B R O O K …….”  He really did mean it as a joke and we all loved it.  Every once in a while the old James shows up and we love it.

Close families are wonderful.  I am sorry for people who don’t have them.

BLESSINGS

Blessings come from strange things.  Don’t you agree?  Sometimes I find I am being blessed and had not even noticed it.  That is not good.

I enjoy doing solitary things.  Maybe because I grew us as an only child.  James never looked forward to being at home.  Home is where he was when he did not have other entertainments.  We would go to the valley for a few weeks after Christmas to square dance.  It was fine, okay; I enjoyed it.  We would square dance and round dance from one to three times a day.  And I enjoyed it; but it also meant that I was not at home working in my flower beds (and later my garden).  When he would mention retiring and trailering full time, my heart would sink.  No gardening, difficult oil painting – not a lot of room.  Difficult sewing, also not enough room.  I envisioned driving for miles and miles.  Staying at campgrounds and having covered dish dinners with strangers.  Just how many covered dishes was I going to enjoy cooking and cleaning up after?  Oh, woe is me – or so I thought. 

Well I am certainly not happy that he got sick – never that.  But now he is most comfortable being at home.  He is agreeable to my dragging him off places but he would prefer being at home.  We eat lunch out everyday and at lunch he will ask two or three times where we are going from there.  He is always relived when we are going home.  If we go to the grocery store or somewhere else, he sits in the car and listens to the radio.  (I always wonder if this is the time I will come back to find him and the car gone.  So far that has not happened.)  He takes a nap in the morning and a long nap in the afternoon.  The Alzheimer’s specialists say that is usual; when they get those “tangles” in the brain, they require more sleep.

So I have done more painting in the last few months than I have since he worked and was gone out of town half the time and I did art shows.  I can work in the yard whenever I want to.  I have a place fixed up in the basement with grow lights and raise most of my own seedlings.  I also sew.  For a few years I made reenactment costumes and bonnets and sold them on ebay.  When the economy took a downturn, I was not selling as much so I gave that up.

As I say, I am sorry he is sick but I am more free to do my own thing than I ever expected to be.  It took me a long time to realize what a blessing this is.  I am sure I have been blessed many times in life and never noticed it.  Isn’t that a shame.

SOCIAL GRACES AND UN-GRACES

THE SOCIAL GRACES OR UNGRACES

People are very tolerant.  Thank goodness. 

We went to lunch with another couple the other day.  Her husband has had a stroke and so is not the charming, gracious, gallant man we have always known. 

Between James and him things can be interesting.  Her husband was telling about some moth holes that got into their sofa while it was in storage.  He said the moth balls must have been castrated and therefore did not keep the moths away.  The people in the booth next to us really enjoyed the story.  When we got ready to order, there was a sign on the wall with the daily specials written on it.  James asked the waitress if she would step back a step or two that there was a part of her anatomy covering the menu.  My mouth dropped open; I looked at Janet and her mouth was quivering, trying to keep from laughing.

As I say, people are tolerant.

BIG SURPRISE

Yesterday our daughter came down to spend the day with James and I went running around with friends.  Missy and James had lunch at the tea room.  When lunch time came the friends and I went to the tea room also.  When we walked in, Donna, the waitress, saw me and her jaw dropped and she just stared at me.  Donna told us later that her thought was, “Here she comes and he is here with another woman”.   I went back to their table to say hello and introduced Donna to our daughter.  She was so relived and told us what she had thought.    We loved it.  I also love living in a small town; that could never have happened in Dallas.  Never a dull moment. 

One day a month Missy spends the day with James so I can have a day off.  And one day a month our daughter-in-law spends the day with him so I can get away.  They came up with this plan and announced it to me.  There is no better blessing than good, loving children. 

DEMENTIA

Dementia is a strange partner.  I keep reading that they get along better with a scheduled life.  How can that be?  They can’t remember what they did 10 minutes ago; how can a schedule help?  I don’t know the answer to that but let me tell you, I know it is the truth.  We get up, read the newspaper; he will read me the same thing two or three times. We eat a simple breakfast, he takes a nap.  About 11:00 we go to McClains for lunch.  Come home and he has another nap – a long one.  Either watch TV or listen to music.  Have cereal or soup or a sandwich for supper and go to bed early.  I paint, sew or work in the garden; so I am okay with this. 

Sometimes I fix lunch at home.  (We have good food; we’ve had a lot of fresh asparagus out of the garden this spring.)  He has his afternoon nap but it is not the same.  He is unsettled.  Things are not right.  I don’t understand. 

The experts also tell me that they don’t do well with moves to another home.  They never adjust; they never feel like the new place is their home.  They start to go downhill faster.   Thinking we need to keep the house in shape for the time we need to move closer to our children, we have done a few things.  Last summer we had the retaining wall worked on.  This summer I plan to have the sprinkler system worked on.  Will we need to stay here and not move?  Who knows?

 I hate the thought of moving for myself – leaving my friends.  And I love living in a small place.  I tell myself that I don’t like not knowing what is in the future.  Then I remind myself that we never

know what is in the future – even when we think we know.  So what is different?

I seem unsettled tonight myself.