And So It Is

I find myself in tears this morning for more reasons than I can explain over the Presidential election.

One of which, is the fact that I didn't go to bed until approximately 5 this morning.  I felt like a bird that had flown into a window at 90 miles an hour; I am so stunned.  I cannot help but think half this country wanting change that frightens me, my family and anyone who might think outside of the box.

When I did go to bed, I went to rest next to my mom, in her bed. which is approximately the size of a large yacht.  And there were even monsters under her bed in my dreams.  I woke praying it was all a nightmare; until my body reacted by a full on sob festival.   I didn't want to miss Hillary's speech, so I got up at 8 ready for her to shine.  Which she did.  I can't imagine the security nightmare today presents, so I'm not distressed it took her a bit to get on stage.

I told a friend yesterday that I felt like "it will be what it will be" and we should simply be grateful that we get to participate.  Not so sure I'm feeling that lie today.

I don't like the concept of living in negativity.

HOWEVER, I'm not without hope.  It's a great day to be kind to everyone, especially ourselves.  To remember we choose to live in a country that allows us to fight for what we believe in. We have an opportunity to comprehend differences, grace and tolerance like never before.  Perhaps we will also learn about our very own space of grief in ways like never before.  I also believe we may find more faith than we ever knew existed, as we move together as one.  Respect is a lesson in this as well.

And so it is.

Big love from this mermaid

You must welcome change as the rule but not as your ruler. Denis Waitley

And the beat goes on.....

I spend a bit more time these days than most on, concepts like oh.....shed doors and sealing of decks.  Thankfully, I have my uncle to help me through all that as for me being a never home-owner it gets a tinge befuddling. 

With my mom in ill health metaphysically(that's how I have finally decided to describe Alzheimer's), I feel a great comfort in the fact that my uncle does things like order shed doors from afar.  Not that I know what to do with them, other than find someone able. 

Meanwhile, my neighbor is having a new roof put on and several other home repairs that begin at well, let's just call it too early for my life schedule.  It borders on rude in my sleeplessness state of life in general, but that could be my issue as opposed to actual life.  I don't recall anymore.

I wake laughing mostly, thinking REALLY?  So we have 5 appointments for my mom this week, and you have an air compressor practically sitting in my left eardrum?  (at least I know what an air compressor is, so due credit, if you please)  I honestly thought they were on my garage for a moment.  Unpleasant is the word I use in public to describe it.

Let's get back to actuality here.  FIVE appointments in one week.  I told my mom she needed to find a new concert tour manager, because clearly, I have over booked us.  Several of the doctors laughed.  One, without a sense of humor...well, there may have been a smile.  I'll take it. Doing stand up comedy in a doctors office is not always amusing, even when things are all good.  Note to self. 

I pray and hope all you caregivers out there are finding rest, have no construction next to your eardrums and the love of a great family, like mine.  More soon.

Love,

This Mermaid

Some Days......

I attempt to write about what it's like taking care of my mother with  serious memory loss.  A couple of diseases, some stroke activity in the past and several other things contribute to these circumstances.  Grief, notwithstanding.  Add in a couple of surgeries on a collarbone and welcome to my mom's world.

I've tried to write out my day in, day out situation - but it never comes out right.  It sounds like whining 99 percent of the time and that is the last thing I'd like to be projected upon this circumstance.

So here's some scoop:

 - It's hard enough watching anyone's memory diminish, but then having to be the kind, patient human that tends to reminding makes it a bit more challenging as the daughter.
 - It's not a half day, sit on the couch and eat bon bon's the other half of the day kind of a gig here - it's 24/7.  I don't rest well often, unless, seriously gratefully, my aunt is here for the night, as I'm always concerned about a fall or some other kind of health issue
- I'm almost always half awake.  I have always been a night owl and now I that I comprehend I was saving up and that now it's related to the fact that it's the only time I have to sit and write and think and watch what I want and not answer questions for others - I can turn into me again.  Then I hear mom pop up in the morning, and up we go and onward.....no calling in sick, no naps without interruptions - it is what it is.
 - I manage to shower about two to three times a week, as it's not comfortable to leave the room and wonder what might be happening 13 stairs down with my feet all slippery
 - There is nothing more profound than having your mother thank you for your presence.  Period.
 - There are days that I think I might lose my mind.  These are the days I forget to ask for help. From people, from the animals and even God. On the best days I actually come to my senses and remember that all is possible with love and answers aren't mine until they are given.
 - Without a support network - including family, friends, music, animals, books, therapists there is no possible way to do this type of deep care.
 - When someone tells me "well, I can do dinner on Tuesday at 7" and I cannot it's frustrating to not only you maybe, but even more to me.
- I'm so grateful I've studied some of God's work in giving it up to the Divine.  I'm so grateful our housekeeper (a) for her and (b) that she changes our family bible to a different page each time she comes to clean.  While she may not speak English, nor I Spanish, we find a place of communication that awes me each week.
 - I'm NOT as exhausted as I think I am.  I'm not as exhausted as I think I am.  Did I mention?  I'm not as exhausted as I think I am.
 - Or maybe I am.  Did I mention I'm caffeine free (mostly) for the reasons of lack of sleep I mentioned above?
 - I do NOT feel trapped, that is so amazing to me even as an introvert.  I love being a homebody.  We have a delightful woman that comes in a couple of times a week to take care of mom while I run about town, and my aunt is nearly always available.
- Planning sucks.  I currently have 5 doctors appointments I'm trying to schedule in for mom - might actually be more than that soon.....and no matter who is here or what is happening, that is priority one.  And it's paperwork and and and and
- Please never use the phrase
"'be sure to take time for yourself" unless you plan on being here to hang with my mom while I'm buying bon bon's.  Seriously.  That is not an option.  Or you could just send bon-bon's.  (just a thought, though I don't like chocolate as much as my mom)
 - there are MOM DOWN days.  This means nothing else is priority.  Other than feeding and watering the animals.  Gotta stop the earth for a bit, answer multiple questions
 over and over again, gotta be sure SHE KNOWS she's certain she has a will and so on.....
 - Grieving is a state of mind I've learned a) to exist within (whether it be pre or current related) and b) not have a true chance to do



It's incredibly challenging to be a caregiver in the first place.  Many of you are right here with me in my heart and it may be that I'm writing an outline for a book about this kind of thing.....thanks for the read.  And for those fellow caregiving peeps out there - wow - Amen - big love and gratitude.

Love,

This Mermaid


P.S.  I love you more than ever, Mom o' mine.

Book Signing Beyond Compare

My agenda tomorrow includes something called a "book signing" at a funeral home for a friend who recently passed.  Knowing him as well as I barely do - here's my to do list:

1) get up
2) feed/medicate animals
3) feed/medicate mother
4) get clean including goal of good hair day - wonder if I have something clean/appropriate to wear
5) feed self
6) go to grocery store to get cat food and mom's med refills
7) pick up aunt
8) visit neighbors who have a collection of Nativity scenes they have not put away yet, so we can see them
9) go to wine store
10) go to funeral home to sign the book and show we care
11) go to closest pub and toast said deceased knowing he would love my priorities


There is a bit more to the day than I am able to emote into words just yet, not the least of which would be how everyone does everything differently when it comes to death.  I LOVE that there are no rules - at least that I'm aware of.  Keeping in mind that most of the death related ceremonies I've attended have been held for animals or very, very (did I mention VERY) unconventional people.  Or relatives that passed on or before I was 12 years old.

I love living in a small, big town that seems to understand that there are those of us (ahem, me) that don't understand.  It's kinda crazy in a 6 Feet Under way.

I miss you L - and I hope you can see and feel that love wherever you are.  Thanks for fixing my iPad. May your new space offer you more cracked screens, lots of appreciated challenges, better goo-gone, even bigger learning and ever more laughter.  Keep the faith dude.  I feel you.  Thanks for signing the book of our friendship.

 - Jenn

Oh Christmas Tree!

It took me about three weeks to work up the gumption to decide what to do about a Christmas tree this year.  My mom has a HUGE pretend one, that took ninja-like wrestling to get out of the house last year, finally, in March.  Oh yes, March.  Things like Christmas trees don't seem to be top of the priority list when one's mother has a diagnosis of Mixed Dementia.  Better known as (Doctor dependent) as Alzheimer's and Parkinson's Diseases.

But I digress.....Well, sort of.

The most important thing to me in the universe currently is seeing the FULL ON glowing smile my mom gives when the joy is seeping out of her.  She's functional with a side of repetitive short term memory issues, so it's not like she's lying in a bed hoping for a miracle.  She IS a living miracle.  And trees are one of her most favorite things.

Last year I had the sad task of having a trimming service come out and deal with the trees that were either deceased or dying and our Texas yard is barren for us girls from Michigan used to a tree at every turn. I was gently reminded at the second funeral I attended this past summer for two fathers of dear friends, that trees are vital to life. One of the sons recently pointed out to me that one could purchase a living tree - one that could be planted and grow for the future.

So I donned my Santa hat, and went to the local nursery after phoning to be certain they had what I was looking for.  The very lovely people that came to our home and had to take away our deceased trees.  The wife of the owner came out and helped me select the perfect tree, along with her dachshund who wasn't as fond as I, of my Santa hat.  My main concern above WHICH tree, was how was I going to fit it in/on the vehicle in the midst of a lovely West Texas dust storm when lo - she told me they deliver.  It took a lot out of me to not sit on the ground and sob.

Picking out a tree for one's family, by oneself is a challenging task  I'm used to the frivolity of the experience of many laughing and listening to Christmas songs and laughter over that one time the tree fell on Aunt C's head when she and I attempted to put it up ourselves to surprise the family.  (Thankfully, no emergency rooms or professionals were required that year...but close)

So this year, I asked the lovely owner if she would take a picture of me, so I could share the moment with my family who could not be with me.  And with a line of at least 7 people there, she excused herself and came out to take my photo in front of our soon to be Christmas tree.  Yesterday, they delivered it.

Naturally it was too tall.  Perfectly too tall.  And the delightful man that we use to take care of our lawn, moved it to the corner the tree will spend some time with us, helped trim it and even placed the angel on top. Naturally, as well, I cried.

My suggested lesson in all of this is to call in a favor from angels and see just where it gets you.  It might be in the tiniest of places or the deepest spaces of your hearts.

Merry Christmas.

Sages Through the Ages

There really aren't words for this type of conversation, but here is my attempt, not to mention you may not know the person I'm discussing herein - but here's the deal - say I love you to everyone you can, every chance you get.  Always. 

Many moons ago, my sister was married and as part of her ceremony, a Shaman, by the human name of Dr. Bruce Cox did a blessing.  It was one of those remarkable life moments.  Spirit, love, ancestry - everything was everywhere, twirling around us all in the smoke of the sage that day.  

Years later, when my dear stepfather passed away, he did another blessing.  I wasn't witness to that one, but I could feel it from 1600 miles away.  Deeply.  

When I arrived in Texas, over a year ago, I was beyond thrilled to think I might get to spend some time with this spirit and learn from him.  Turns out, he had moved to another state, but I still had the good fortune to hang with him poolside and listen and learn and laugh, many times.  The first night I saw him again, he did yet another blessing.  Looking back, it was as though he could see I needed protection, support, healing and superpowers before I even knew I needed them all.  

When we learned about my mom's illnesses, one night I ran away from home.  To the Coxs' Big Spring home - about 3 blocks from mom's house.  I raged, and I ranted and I cried as Bruce held my hand.  In these moments, I could not help but feel more strength pouring into my soul.  He gave beautiful wisdom, kindly and with grand humor and I began to realize I actually could do this. 

Bruce and his amazing wife (see, there aren't enough words?!) Sheryl, also raised one of my now dearest friends, Josh, whom I now have the opportunity to do some life-changing work with.  

And just last week, I had the change to speak to Bruce on the phone about a project and was able to tell him I loved him, yet again.  Thank God.  Because, yesterday, he transitioned, after a good cup of coffee.Last night I dreamed of him all night and even woke myself laughing at one point.  Which is the only way he'd want it.  

At the Master Gardner's sale this year, I bought a little tiny sage plant, with great hopes of growing it the size of the state of Texas and hoping Bruce would bless it, so I could use it for blessings.  When mom and I returned home from a trip, I discovered the sage had indeed grown - though merely the size of Big Spring, but the incredible part of the story to all of my family, is that there was a feather, firmly settled into the planter just next to the sage (enter goosebumps here) and I suggested that Bruce and Spirit had already blessed it.  I could not be more grateful.  Say I love you every chance you get.  Always.  

Beat it.

Not long ago, a friend and I spent some time at a family cottage and well, it turns out I'm a drummer.  (or not  - please hold)

My drum kit includes a certain size cottage cheese container and a variety of pots and pans.

Earplugs for my family.

And gifted drumsticks - they were picked from a tree near the cottage, and carved with my initials by one of my dearest pals.  I was thrilled.  Until each one, in it's own time, broke and flew across the room that particular weekend.  For the record, no one was wounded.

I began to remember that singing made me feel release and freedom each time I put my MP-3 player on and banged out the next tune. Next thing I knew I was banging out my frustrations, singing my tunes at the tops of both of my lungs.  Many involved left the room.

Today though, wow.  Today, said friend showed up again, and with not only grown up drumsticks, but drumsticks in a wildly perfect shade of purple.

I cried.  I'm hopeful he didn't notice that part.  Or that he did.  Either way, I'm grateful in ways I can't find just yet.

I'm hopeful you have drums to beat upon that make your heart remember to beat when things feel so tight and tough that there is no other way to express.

I bet my stix will remember.