My parents came to celebrate my 16 year old daughter’s birthday on Tuesday night.
My dad said that he was quitting choir.
This is big. He loves singing and needs to get out from the constant care-taking of my mother.
When I asked him why, he turned to my mother and said, “should I tell her?”
“What..” I replied somewhat anxiously. “Tell me what?”
After what seemed an eternity, he responded.
At the last visit, the doctor said that people at this stage are prone to go off somewhere. Thus why he can’t go to choir. She could just leave.
That is all.
We let my mother row last weekend.
Tightly ensconced with a life jacket, we let her upon the sound.
Allowing her to go on the Sound was a huge step for us.
Watching her soar over beloved waves, I saw the oars lightly touch the tops of them. I loved how she knew that she was not digging into the water and thus – off she went with stronger strokes in an energy all her own.
She was the happiest that afternoon. Surrounded by her loved ones and rowing – her two loves – she was content.
I wish for more rowing to help stabilize a wandering mind.
Traffic has the ability to induce anxiety.
When one is stuck in traffic, over and over, dread foreshadows the beginning of anxiety.
Deeply exhaling anxious thoughts diminishes the effect of traffic woes.
Stuck in the never ending line of slow traffic, while trying to get home in time so my son can use it for traveling to his outings, can be a beast.
As a single mom, working, traveling, ensuring that my kids are well fed – are the most crucial elements of my day. To accomplish everything, I must be grounded and centered.
Sometimes all it takes is a simple breath of relief.
Other than holding her hand, I don’t know how to help my mother relax and enjoy.
Enjoy life, our times together, and to breathe.
It seems that her anxiety is at a high pitch and won’t stop.
Finding opportunities to go there without others is rare.
My sister is one of the few that understands the need for our mom to have peace and live in safe and peaceful environments. Yet she lives far away.
Maybe all she needs is prayer, someone to breathe for her, and alleviate any worries she might have or allow.
Holding her hand for now ~ breathing a prayer.
I am not a fan of other’s who write from a lack of inspiration but seek other’s tomes to elaborate upon.
If you come here only to mine stories then please go.
Have some class.
And with that, her stories continue to emerge from a brain that loosens from the bonds of forced structured thought into insights about her childhood.
Perhaps this is what differs Alzheimer sufferers from other aging stars – how the mind loosens its grip on the present while surfacing memories arise to be told.
Each little caress of her word, inspires me to be and do.
I remember being surrounded by color growing up.
Oriental rugs that my parents insured to the Laura Ashley wallpaper in the Bed & Breakfast rooms, our house was tastefully decorated with real antiques and flowers.
My parents house is a lovely mix of yellow and sunset red walls that lovingly hold valuable items – some, slowly disappearing.
Now, as my spirit/child outgrows my self/ego, I am filling my life with the beauty of color.
Tis a great healing indeed.