I officially started the back to school inservices Monday. My to do list is still endless!!! I am not exaggerating. Bob has had ten gallons of paint for the exterior for four years and we have been working on it for four weeks. 32 tubes of caulk (yes, laugh at how the word sounds) and so far, 40 gallons of paint. My daugher and son-in-law gave us two days of work as did my brother with the spray machine. Sunday, I got a concussion but kept on working after a landscaping pole fell off the roof and bounced (twice) on my head. Monday, we again, ran out of paint.
Four years to almost get this off my to do list. It will get done by the official start of school but that is only a week and 2 days away. Which made me consider, did I get anything important done on my list? The answer is "The Important Listless".
1. Talked to my 4 daughters more than they probably wanted to, more often than they would choose to. It was always grand.
2. Sat in wonder on the fourth of july - not at the fireworks but the idioticacy of men and fireworks and the joy of children.
3. Enjoyed many sunrises as they swept the plains of Nebraska.
4. Blessed by stars at night.
5. Chased lightning bugs.
6. Cold beer, hot night...need I say more?
7. Fascinating reads for a stimulated mind.
8. Time off from the attachment of teaching and loving other peoples' children.
9. Cancer free Theresa.
10.Prayers for grandchildren who are now adolescents and pre-adolescents. More prayers for their parents...been there/done that.
11.Friend relationship time...something I put to the side too often.
12.Gardening....I LOVE dirt and flowers and vegetables.
Needless to say, that list can go on but the joys of it are everlasting. My to do list, short joy and long staying list. No wonder I keep putting it off.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Thursday, July 30, 2009
fences in our minds
Randy Praush said the brick walls are not there to stop you but to see how much you want what is on the other side. I can agree with that. It was a great visual for me in my mind and life. But what about the fences in my mind?
I put some up for safety...if someone crosses some line, they are dangerous and must be avoided or put out. I erect some fences to keep that sense of self. As a woman, it is so easy to become someone's mom, a sturdy, dependable employee, an extension of my significant man, my sister's sibling... So I preserve that piece of myself by a crooked and weaving fence.
I carefully craft the fence of political persuasions with that ever changing fence as I respond to new information and the wisdom that comes with aging. The fence of stonewalling might fit here. As is that "line in the sand" type fence.
But sometimes the fences make for stagnation or fear. I put up an occasional fence that I am afraid to go past. The otherside of some fences are not about greener on the other side, but about blackness. Or is it about unknown? I build some fences that lock me into a place I won't go past. Making limitations on my life and choices. How do I make sure my fences are about goodness, not fearsomeness?
I read somewhere that vision plus consistent action equals freedom. Are my fences connected with the visions of what I want? Are my fences allowing me to have consistency in my actions? A good fence allows for freedom inside and outside. That's what I need to keep checking on. Let's not even start with the mending fences thing.....:)
I put some up for safety...if someone crosses some line, they are dangerous and must be avoided or put out. I erect some fences to keep that sense of self. As a woman, it is so easy to become someone's mom, a sturdy, dependable employee, an extension of my significant man, my sister's sibling... So I preserve that piece of myself by a crooked and weaving fence.
I carefully craft the fence of political persuasions with that ever changing fence as I respond to new information and the wisdom that comes with aging. The fence of stonewalling might fit here. As is that "line in the sand" type fence.
But sometimes the fences make for stagnation or fear. I put up an occasional fence that I am afraid to go past. The otherside of some fences are not about greener on the other side, but about blackness. Or is it about unknown? I build some fences that lock me into a place I won't go past. Making limitations on my life and choices. How do I make sure my fences are about goodness, not fearsomeness?
I read somewhere that vision plus consistent action equals freedom. Are my fences connected with the visions of what I want? Are my fences allowing me to have consistency in my actions? A good fence allows for freedom inside and outside. That's what I need to keep checking on. Let's not even start with the mending fences thing.....:)
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Ponderings
Isn't it funny how when life turns upside down, you don't want to ponder outloud anymore? I can sometimes verbalize it but seldom can put it to paper. When I teach, I tell my students don't try to write what you really don't know. So there is why I haven't been writing...I really don't know. Who would guess at 55 that my life and loves have so much going on that I can't even figure it out. What happened to the theory that the life experiences and connections of aging that were suppose to work into rich wisdom! Can't seem to locate that information.
SO I ponder. "Mary held her baby and pondered in her heart." I wish I could hold my babies safe and ponder. All of the issues in our lives are momentary and moving forward into goodness but man, enough already. Can't have a rainbow without rain, we all need blackness in the fabric of our lives so that the colors shine brightly, what doesn't kill you just makes you stronger. I ponder why comfort has to share the spotlight with ugliness. I ponder why bad things happen to good people. But mostly, I just ponder...I like the word better than worry and even though I am a master worrier, I am pondering for the most part.
I believe in the goodness of a loving Lord and know he didn't plan for these things. He gave us all free will and the world is full of people acting out careless free will and it often affects us. Consequences can be either good or bad or both. Ponder on that for awhile. My head spins when I do. But that is the point...I am still pondering a good part of each day. Like a drip system hose in the garden, it is always going, always feeding, promoting growth and never stopping. It would be overwhelming except...Pondering will get me somewhere where I can figure out the verbalizations of my thoughts. I will lean forward into my life and know that God has not abandoned me or mine and I must keep doing the next right thing.
SO I ponder. "Mary held her baby and pondered in her heart." I wish I could hold my babies safe and ponder. All of the issues in our lives are momentary and moving forward into goodness but man, enough already. Can't have a rainbow without rain, we all need blackness in the fabric of our lives so that the colors shine brightly, what doesn't kill you just makes you stronger. I ponder why comfort has to share the spotlight with ugliness. I ponder why bad things happen to good people. But mostly, I just ponder...I like the word better than worry and even though I am a master worrier, I am pondering for the most part.
I believe in the goodness of a loving Lord and know he didn't plan for these things. He gave us all free will and the world is full of people acting out careless free will and it often affects us. Consequences can be either good or bad or both. Ponder on that for awhile. My head spins when I do. But that is the point...I am still pondering a good part of each day. Like a drip system hose in the garden, it is always going, always feeding, promoting growth and never stopping. It would be overwhelming except...Pondering will get me somewhere where I can figure out the verbalizations of my thoughts. I will lean forward into my life and know that God has not abandoned me or mine and I must keep doing the next right thing.
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Things Change..SLOWLY
I heard this story the other morning as I drove to school. I knew of John Hope Franklin and had appreciated his work and efforts. This story reflects a world we all hope has vanished. Maybe, it is just not as blatant but I hope it is a changing world. Please take time to put it into your working schema/life filter/perception producer. http://www.storycorps.net/listen/stories/john-hope-franklin-with-his-son-john-w-franklin
Monday, March 30, 2009
Families
My mom died this winter. My sister is handicapped physically. Being a member of my family of orgin is a handicap that is emotional for all of us. Me especially. I can't stand the insanity of the fights and emotional blackmail. Nine kids. Mom was lucky to leave on the dementia plan. I think she forgot all the uglies. Yes, families have uglies. My Irish/Polish siblings and I can illustrate that truth. The uglies are a choice though. How long we keep choosing them is a question that begs to be answered. Meanwhile, if I can live intentionally, trying to keep just my inventory, leaving them to the gut-wrenching list making inventories of who did what, said what and meant what....maybe I will survive it all and live happily ever after. Or I can go on acting like a cripple. Choose wisely.
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Aging
Aging isn't for sisies, I've read. This last year has proven that. I finally got my masters degree...a week after my youngest daughter got hers!!
Another daughter almost died this fall, and there was nothing we could do but support her in her fight to wellness, which was also taken out of my hands because she moved to the coast.
I developed crazy elevations in blood pressure and looked stroke in it's ugly face and made it through.
My mother died after years of being absent in the world of dementia/alzheimers.
I know all that sort of drama has always been in the world. I've watched others survive the same episodes and grow stronger. But it isn't for sissies, this growing and being what I've witnessed others do. It has been a hard year.
Happiness, you betcha, new son in law, grandkids growing healthy, stable, strong. Daughters chasing dreams and kids and men and more than they ever thought to look for. I love those beauties of older age. But it still isn't for sissies. Even the beauties are about being less, the goal of parenting is to do it so well, the teaching and prodding, supporting and pushing: until they don't need you. Isn't that a heartbreaking statement?
Being proud of the job we've done all together, this village raising our children, reinforces the fact that we all put ourselves out of the job. Like firing ourselves, laying us off due to no need. Winning at mothering makes me unemployed...it's a good thing I'm not a sissy. Just proud.
Another daughter almost died this fall, and there was nothing we could do but support her in her fight to wellness, which was also taken out of my hands because she moved to the coast.
I developed crazy elevations in blood pressure and looked stroke in it's ugly face and made it through.
My mother died after years of being absent in the world of dementia/alzheimers.
I know all that sort of drama has always been in the world. I've watched others survive the same episodes and grow stronger. But it isn't for sissies, this growing and being what I've witnessed others do. It has been a hard year.
Happiness, you betcha, new son in law, grandkids growing healthy, stable, strong. Daughters chasing dreams and kids and men and more than they ever thought to look for. I love those beauties of older age. But it still isn't for sissies. Even the beauties are about being less, the goal of parenting is to do it so well, the teaching and prodding, supporting and pushing: until they don't need you. Isn't that a heartbreaking statement?
Being proud of the job we've done all together, this village raising our children, reinforces the fact that we all put ourselves out of the job. Like firing ourselves, laying us off due to no need. Winning at mothering makes me unemployed...it's a good thing I'm not a sissy. Just proud.
Friday, February 6, 2009
Josephine
Josephine was 85 but I quit counting at her 78th birthday.
"Happy Birthday Mom" I had greeted. "Whose birthday is it?" she asked. I reminded her that it was her birthday. "No it isn't. I would know. Now, who are you?" That was when I quit counting. It was a surprise that it was 7 years since that time. A foreverness exists in the lives of those dealing with Dementia/Alzheimers. There were times when it felt like I had always been trying to agree with ridiculous thoughts, following crazy conversations, being mistaken for her mother or no one she had ever met. Truly, that is one of the hazards of the caregiving position. You forget the mother, the grandmother, the women she was.
I especially remember the Lewey Bodies part of it all. Small little people she would try to talk sense into or yell at depending on what they were doing. Originally, we liked to believe that she was "seeing" young versions of ourselves or our children. But, it is a symptom of Dementia...nothing remininiscent in that. Mom had developed Leukemia and we were doing a program to kill it and the pain. She was in the hospital. We couldn't stand the thought of her being tied or belted down so we took turns with round the clock supervision. What a great nursing staff we worked with.
That night, she was telling them to get off the ceiling. They were bothering either George Washington or Abraham Lincoln. She told them over and over to get down. I said, let them learn their lesson the hard way. Let's just lie here and ignore them. She answered, "They could fall down and die." I said I didn't think a president would let that happen. "Well, they want me to die you know. But I don't want to go alone." I replied, Dad is there, your mom and dad and brothers. It could be good, I suggested. She would have none of it. I said, "Why don't you take Evelyn with you?" She paused, thought about it then used my name in the first time in so long, that I was taken aback. "Patty, I should take you with me. You won't get in otherwise I'm afraid."
Dementia has a mean core. She did many mean and hurtful things before we were aware of what it was. She said viciously ugly things. It was all part of the damn disease. It stole my mother and left her hurting, dying slowly and oh, so hard. I laughed that night. My brother Tom reminded me of that story as we stood in her bedroom the night before she finally fought her way out of this world. We laughed.
And that is how I will remember her. Laughing when it was hard, crazy and impossible. Laughing when her mother was gone, when she went to work at 14, when her second child was born with major physical handicapps, when Dad broke his back, when baby after baby showed up in her Catholic home, when all the ills and troubles of life threatened to win...she prayed, laughed, and loved her man. Till the disease took her. It had her prisoner for 7 years. Now, she is laughing at it. Na na boo boo Dementia.
"Happy Birthday Mom" I had greeted. "Whose birthday is it?" she asked. I reminded her that it was her birthday. "No it isn't. I would know. Now, who are you?" That was when I quit counting. It was a surprise that it was 7 years since that time. A foreverness exists in the lives of those dealing with Dementia/Alzheimers. There were times when it felt like I had always been trying to agree with ridiculous thoughts, following crazy conversations, being mistaken for her mother or no one she had ever met. Truly, that is one of the hazards of the caregiving position. You forget the mother, the grandmother, the women she was.
I especially remember the Lewey Bodies part of it all. Small little people she would try to talk sense into or yell at depending on what they were doing. Originally, we liked to believe that she was "seeing" young versions of ourselves or our children. But, it is a symptom of Dementia...nothing remininiscent in that. Mom had developed Leukemia and we were doing a program to kill it and the pain. She was in the hospital. We couldn't stand the thought of her being tied or belted down so we took turns with round the clock supervision. What a great nursing staff we worked with.
That night, she was telling them to get off the ceiling. They were bothering either George Washington or Abraham Lincoln. She told them over and over to get down. I said, let them learn their lesson the hard way. Let's just lie here and ignore them. She answered, "They could fall down and die." I said I didn't think a president would let that happen. "Well, they want me to die you know. But I don't want to go alone." I replied, Dad is there, your mom and dad and brothers. It could be good, I suggested. She would have none of it. I said, "Why don't you take Evelyn with you?" She paused, thought about it then used my name in the first time in so long, that I was taken aback. "Patty, I should take you with me. You won't get in otherwise I'm afraid."
Dementia has a mean core. She did many mean and hurtful things before we were aware of what it was. She said viciously ugly things. It was all part of the damn disease. It stole my mother and left her hurting, dying slowly and oh, so hard. I laughed that night. My brother Tom reminded me of that story as we stood in her bedroom the night before she finally fought her way out of this world. We laughed.
And that is how I will remember her. Laughing when it was hard, crazy and impossible. Laughing when her mother was gone, when she went to work at 14, when her second child was born with major physical handicapps, when Dad broke his back, when baby after baby showed up in her Catholic home, when all the ills and troubles of life threatened to win...she prayed, laughed, and loved her man. Till the disease took her. It had her prisoner for 7 years. Now, she is laughing at it. Na na boo boo Dementia.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Making memories
It was a mission. Four of us in a traveling jewelry case...otherwise known as a Honda Civic. Three of the most valuable things in my life - two daughters and a son-in-law off to see five more gems of Reruchaness. Sadly, leaving behind the wealth of love in Lincoln and the richness of my newset loved one. But, our trip to the memories yet to come was of great importance.
I always think to myself, and now my daughters know why they wonder if they are nuts - I am always having mental conversations with myself and they have modeled that well!!! I think to myself, what will they dredge up from the bottom of their hearts at some random moment? Which piece of this week will carry them through a rough time when they can barely believe that they are loveable? What wandering thought will comfort a broken-hearted day? And that is why we spend time together...building memories that will beat the wolves of insignificance away from the doors of our souls. We built for six and a half days and will reap the dividends for a lifetime. Now that, my friends, is a wealth beyond measure!!
My four daughters are the jewels in my crown, my son-in-laws the settings for my four precious stones that send the daughters' glowing sparkle into the world. And as for my grandkids...Oh, the liquid wonder of their constantly moving and growing joy!!
I read once that the heart is pointed because there is pain in love, but the safety of the small, close confines of the bottom of the heart provide safety for all memories to be preserved and saved until they can become cherished. And yes, there are always going to be disagreements, discontent, spots on the jewels but lordy, all God's children have problems. Just knowing we are not problem children, knowing that everyone has issues, and knowing how very lucky we are to be in the building stages of our lives....well...it is a happy new year!!!
I always think to myself, and now my daughters know why they wonder if they are nuts - I am always having mental conversations with myself and they have modeled that well!!! I think to myself, what will they dredge up from the bottom of their hearts at some random moment? Which piece of this week will carry them through a rough time when they can barely believe that they are loveable? What wandering thought will comfort a broken-hearted day? And that is why we spend time together...building memories that will beat the wolves of insignificance away from the doors of our souls. We built for six and a half days and will reap the dividends for a lifetime. Now that, my friends, is a wealth beyond measure!!
My four daughters are the jewels in my crown, my son-in-laws the settings for my four precious stones that send the daughters' glowing sparkle into the world. And as for my grandkids...Oh, the liquid wonder of their constantly moving and growing joy!!
I read once that the heart is pointed because there is pain in love, but the safety of the small, close confines of the bottom of the heart provide safety for all memories to be preserved and saved until they can become cherished. And yes, there are always going to be disagreements, discontent, spots on the jewels but lordy, all God's children have problems. Just knowing we are not problem children, knowing that everyone has issues, and knowing how very lucky we are to be in the building stages of our lives....well...it is a happy new year!!!
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)