dreams

Funerals

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These events are for the living. The usefulness to the living is a final farewell. The tradition helps the living cope with the fact that they too will eventually succumb. (Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, we are here and then we are not.) Nice music and often monotonic recitation of traditional prayer provides solace.

This particular funeral service was held for my sister-in-law. Three of us brothers-in-law are widowers now. Is this a trend? I hope not. I chose to sit near the back of the church to avoid sitting with the grieving immediate family and to be alone with my own thoughts. Cheryl is still fresh in my mind.

As the homilist was speaking I heard the first allusion to purgatory in a Roman Catholic sermon that I have heard without using the word for a very long time. (It could be that I did not listen to funeral sermons carefully before this one.) I was interested by the implication that the person might not be in heaven. But me being me I was not alarmed, I went off to the Wait wait What? to read current doctrine of the Roman Catholic church. Every thought, idea, law and religious doctrine exists on the WWW somewhere and it exists for any religious philosophy.

There is a YouTube video for the reading challenged at www.catholic.com that tells all. Reserve an hour or so if you are interested. I have got to admit that the current view of purgatory is much different than what I got from reading the catechism and listening to the Sisters of Mercy seventy years ago.

I have misunderstood the difference of “praying for” and “praying to” for many years. Today I read this: “… prayers for the dead: “In doing this (offering a sacrifice) he (Judas Maccabee) acted in a very excellent and noble way, inasmuch as he had the resurrection of the dead in view; for if he were not expecting the dead to rise again, it would have been useless and foolish to pray for them in death. But if he did this with a view to the splendid reward that awaits those who had gone to rest in godliness, it was a holy and pious thought. Thus he made atonement for the dead that they might be freed from this sin” (2 Macc. 12:43–45). Prayers are not needed by those in heaven, and no one can help those in hell…”

There is an in-between state (Limbo of the Fathers, Purgatory, Sanctification) and those souls we pray for. Souls in heaven do not need prayer. They are there. They are sanctified. They are prayed to. Souls in hell (damnation) are lost and cannot be helped. That is sad. The distinction was lost on me when I was six years old and I was not interested enough to ask. Catholic philosophy is laden with guilt and I did not seek out more of it by asking the nun to compare and contrast for and to.

As for me, I prefer to sit near the back of any church. It is a fine old Catholic tradition that if you get in early you can sit in the back. Cheryl liked to sit midway up and to the left side. After her death I sit near the rear and to the right. I can look at the other side of her. I see her often in church, any church, when I am there.

Family is mostly what I thought about during her funeral after I made a mental note to educate myself about the concept of purgatory. Two of my children sat with me. We did not stay for the reception in the church hall afterward. Cheryl’s death is too fresh for all of us.

Cheryl… when she died I was sad and happy… She was better at religion than I was and am now. I think women are better at religion. It is odd, I think, that men are in charge of them, all of them. I was sad that she was gone from my life and I felt that here in church at Teri’s funeral.

Cheryl came to me in an early morning dream a few months ago. It is incredibly vivid in my memory, as though I had lived though it. In the dream there was a special service in our church – Nativity. For some unclear reason we had to bring our own chairs to the service – a mass as I remember it. At the end of the service she hoped up and announced to me that she had to go. I can hear her, “I have to go!” I thought she meant to the lady’s room. She was in the midst of her Parkinson’s and with that her memory and spacial issues. She could not always find her way around. In this instance she was moving with ease towards the lavatory door which was around the corner and out of my sight as she moved through the crowd of folks leaving the service. I waited anxiously near our chairs gathering our stuff up to leave. I looked in her direction often to be sure she would make her way back. She often was unsure of where she was, so, I was worried. She was gone a long time and as I began to move towards the lady’s room a young man came up to me and asked if he could help with the chairs. He explained that Cheryl was gone.(He said, “She’s not coming back. She’ll be okay.) It is a very vivid memory/dream and I cry whenever I recall it. She is in heaven. This is what I take her last visit to me in this dream to mean.

I am happy for her because she was no longer suffering from Parkinson’s scourge that took her from this life and my life. I am happy that I can pray to her.

Carpe Diem

Experimentation

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I have been experimenting with many aspects of my life since Cheryl has gone.

Where am I going? Why am I experimenting? What do I mean by experimenting? Am I searching for life meaning? My life meaning?

Is this worth my effort?

Since I am still here and God has taken her, there must be some reason that the universal conscience has for me. Or that line of thought might just be ego talking. Some days I feel like I am waiting for God to hit me with the answer of what all this is for.

Today the time changes. Why did it change? Did we get more? What is time? Why do I have so many devices in my home to measure it? Why is my circadian rhythm dysrhythmic today?

How much sugar should I add to this? Should I use sugar or honey? Where is this thought going?

I had a strange dream yesterday as I was wakening in the last time zone. My neighbor was holding two tomatoes from our little garden plot and peering into my living room windows. She was waving them up and down in the latest “6-7” motion that the children do meaninglessly. My view in the dream was as though I was looking through a doll house window. She was a giant version of herself. I woke up suddenly with a little shiver. Where did that dreamy thought come from?

Is the One whose name may not be said merely trying to show me that purpose and being are two different ideas and are not correlated? Those just are?

The human mind (maybe just my mind) is just simply too busy. Minds are too busy concerning themselves with ideas like purpose and value. What if my mind could just be? And where is my mind?

Cheryl’s mind left her before her body left the Earth. Taking care of her in her mindless menagerie of demented memories and present existence was my purpose and value for many years.

These days I seem to be experimenting to find new purpose. But what if I merely remain present to what is now. What if?

It is almost 8AM and my mind is telling my body that it was almost 9AM yesterday. Presence to now is what I shout back in my mind. What is it now? Yesterday is no more.

Time only moves forward.

We are all time travelers. See what is now. The future is tomorrow and next month and next year.

I will get there in time.

What is the rush?

Carpe Diem.

Weird Dreams

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Last night I had an odd dreaming experience. Odd because the story line was strange and very real. Odd because it is staying with me as a memory. Odd because the visual is a strange combination of objects.

I wonder where dreams come from in my brain.

A couple weeks ago I dreamt about Cheryl. That does not seem weird to me based on the fact that she recently passed away and left me on my own in the world. I thank her every day for giving me the opportunity to complete my training.

Last night’s dream was an odd theme. I had become a rookie police officer. (What?) In this dream story I did not feel out of place until my training officer left me standing by the road without any way to communicate except a small hand held radio with an almost expired battery. As I moved away from the radio car, the view changed to a factory office setting with old metal office chairs and a metal desk. There were few pens to write with although I was supposed to write something down.

The only object to write on is the back of what looks like a tablet or video screen. It is a molded plastic surface.

I became bored with the assignment and began to wonder if this was some sort of hazing experience. Was my training officer coming back? I woke up to go to the toilet and while I was doing that I wondered what kind of dream was that? Where did that come from? Returning to bed I took up the story some more to see how it would turn out. It was like a streaming video series. It did not turn into anything.

My training officer returned to give me another pen and another strange object to write on and left again. I began to worry that I might not get home.

I woke up again thankful I was in my bedroom.

Just weird. And vivid as I write this I can see it in my memory as a visual. Much the same as I can recall the view from the overlook in the Grand Canyon National Park. Grand Canyon is a decades old memory.

It is a good memory though. I took this picture of Cheryl there. It is my favorite image of her. When I wake up my tablet to do the puzzles in the morning this image of her greets me. I miss her but I have no inclination to become a police officer.

Just weird. Where do dreams come from? What could this one possibly mean? If it means anything at all.

Carpe Diem.

Help Me!

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This morning one of the residents who lives at the Harbor with Cheryl called for help with a deep longing in her voice. From deep inside her soul she longs for help. She does not know what that help is nor what she needs. She is mostly deaf so the aides trying to help and distract her are using their football stadium voices to communicate with her.

Another resident responds by asking about what help she needs. Her request is repeated by others. There is a deep longing for help. Cheryl is dozing off and on. Her request for help has become part of her dreaming.

They were getting organized for luncheon. The atmosphere left me with an overwhelming sense of disconnect and sadness.

Carpe Diem

Yesterday was Long

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Yesterday was a good day. It was also a long day. Today she is resting in her chair. She is completely asleep.

Comfortable

She did not stir when I put a blanket over her. She did not stir when I held her hand. She peeked out once as I looked at her to see if she was dreaming. As I sat next to her for awhile she mumbled and was moving her eyes and throat. Talking in her dream. When we were still home it was quiet enough for me to hear what she might be saying. At Bridgeway Pointe she is talking even softer. Sometimes her lips move but no sound comes out. I have developed the ability to read lips but not if she mumbles under what breath she has left.

Yesterday she had several visitors. Felicia helped her eat breakfast yesterday. Felicia is a wonderful asset when she is on duty in the Harbor. She is always cheery and kind. She is able to roll with the conversation no matter how odd it may be.

What a change a day makes. She was more active yesterday. Today she is sleepy.

Yesterday

Today, she is frail and “out of it.” I asked her about breakfast and she told me that she had popcorn. A new unused answer is that one. I wanted to ask if she had anything on her popcorn but I kept the follow up question to myself. She is thinking about and talking about some work project while she picks at perceived loose threads from the blanket I put over her earlier. Today, she off in lalaland.

This behavior is no different than when she was home with me. She would be pretty good one day and off in the weeds for a day or two after. I relate this to sleep and how well she slept the night before. Yesterday it was good. Today it was not so good.

Carpe Diem

Sleeping

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This morning when I came to visit she was sleeping. I kissed her on the forehead my usual ploy when she was still home with me. It did not work this morning. I left her to sleep. I went home and invented an early lunch.

It was a Thai dish from Hello Fresh. It was quick and easy to make. Pretty good to eat and I have leftovers since I renewed the smallest amount which is two meals for two people.

I am back at Bridgeway Pointe it is almost 2 PM and she is still sleeping or she awakened and was not interested in eating lunch so she is sleeping again. As I was walking out the nurse told me that she had not awakened and had not taken her meds at all so far that day. She is off her schedule and very tired.

Yesterday afternoon she had lots of visitors. That kind of activity would often make her remain awake late into the night. Sometimes she did not sleep well at home. She would be very tired the next day.

Zonked out

This is that day. The night shift nurse was able to get her to take her 6 PM dose. I went to visit at 6:30 PM. She was still very tired but she had eaten about 25% of dinner by the nurse’s estimation. She is drinking very little liquid.

Carpe Diem.

It is Quite a Task

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It is a task to watch her struggle to walk. She will not ask for assistance or help. One has to brave the storm and help anyway. To me as her principal helper, it is frustrating.

We went to the physical therapist and the occupational therapist today. I suppose I was hoping for some magical solution to Cheryl’s interest and attitude towards exercise. I suppose I was hoping for a story end like the tale of Lazarus. (“Rise up and walk!”)

He suggested to her that she practice by taking big steps and for exercise stomp down on the floor to emphasize a marching motion. He suggested that she practice getting out of and into a chair– nose over toes. Bend forward to stand up. Bend forward and stick your butt out to sit. When you are up – grab your walker. Practice this often and muscle memory will kick in. When we were home she complained of pain in her back. Her core is weak.

He politely suggested that I should coach her to put her feet in the right place and lean forward to stand up. Her has no idea how much friction that coaching causes. (You are always telling me what to do!) I do tell her to lean forward and stand up. I usually put my hand on her back to help her and steady her as she rises. She leans on me pretty hard. She might say stop pushing but if I remove my hand I find that she was leaning hard backward on me and she can easily stumble back and lose her balance. I ignore her complaint mostly and apologize later when I am sure she is stable.

I learned an important nuance today from Justin the physical therapy guy. He had never met Cheryl before so part of the visit was him looking through her records and asking various questions about this and that. He asked about falls. Everyone new asks about falls. I replied that Cheryl falls a couple times a week. She usually falls backwards and it seems to me that it is getting worse. She tends to lean backwards when getting up from a chair. If she passes by a stable solid piece of furniture that she has grabbed for extra support she hold onto that as long as possible even to the point of leaning backwards to maintain contact. Justin told me that is pretty typical for folks with balance issues. (Huh. I was under the misguided illusion that parkies tend to hunch forward. Cheryl never hunches forward.)

I know that there is no magical solution. But I can hope.

Just like I can hope her voice will get stronger with speech therapy.

Just like I can hope for the occupational therapist to be useful to her.

The palliative care clinic is focused on improving her sleep. Part of that is controlling her constipation. If she sleeps well she does better during the day. She can remember who I am for example. She will remember to eat. Perhaps she will quit losing weight.

There is no cure for this debilitating and degenerative disease.

Carpe Diem.

Longing

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Last night when I came to bed Cheryl was still awake. I asked like I always do if all was well. She replied that yes she was okay. She said, “I was thinking about Mom.”

“What were you you thinking?”, I asked.

” I miss talking to her.”

It was an incredibly lucid moment of which there are fewer and fewer. We talked for a bit about our mothers. She missed Elaine in that moment but she was not sad. She was thoughtful. Elaine is very present to her. Most days Cheryl wants to call her and tell her about what is going on. When we go somewhere, Cheryl wants to make sure someone is attending to her mom’s needs.

Day Three

I suppose that time for relaxation and thinking and memories of her childhood and past good times bubble up in her thoughts when she lets go of control for a bit. Last night was one of those. She was not upset. If anything she was relaxed and pleasantly fatigued from the day’s activities.

Lately I have been giving her a chance to talk about her thoughts as she goes to bed. If I read for awhile before coming to bed and she is still awake I encourage her to tell me what she is thinking about. Sometimes many anxieties are jumbled up in her head. Sometimes, like last night, she is thinking pleasant thoughts. Sometimes she longs for Auld Angsine. (Sp?)

The crabcakes were good and it was breezy on the pier. The shore birds where grabbing any of the small bait fish that they could find.

Today is a new day.

Carpe Diem.

Conversations

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Jan? Jan? (me – what?) Do the doctors know if this Cesarean is scheduled or not? (me- I don’t know. I’m sure they will do what’s necessary. Try to get some sleep.) Okay. Wake me when it’s done.

Early morning as well as late evening conversations can be odd sometimes. This one from last night as she was falling asleep stuck with me.

The image is from Forbes.

Carpe Diem

Scrambled Eggs

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This was a strange morning so far.

Cheryl was interested (it seemed to me) in going to bed at the normal time about 10 PM. I helped her through all the normal changes and toileting. Afterward I sat up to read but could not wrap my head around the story I was reading. I came to bed at 11 PM.

After I laid down and got comfortable she started talking to someone. I thought at first she was talking to me but listening I realized she was having a conversation with whom – several people – she was seeing in her head. She has had these episodes in the past but not for some time. Last night and early morning her hallucinations were strong. At least three people were in the room – Nancy and a couple of smaller children and Zachary. They talked about church topics. They talked about playing. they talked about what was best to eat. They talked about books and stories. They talked about breakfast.

After an hour or so of this I got up. I must have gotten used to her murmurings and fallen asleep for awhile but I awakened at a little after 1 AM and could not return to blissful slumber. I got up and pulled the sofa-bed apart with the intention of sleeping in the living room for a couple hours but that did not work out as I heard her moving around shortly after I got up to switch rooms.

When I reentered the bed room she was perched on the edge of the bed trying to get up in her hop-hop mode. I helped her up and she needed to put her imaginary earrings on the dresser in our bedroom.

I suggested to her sleepy, dreamy, hallucinatory self that she sit on the toilet while we were up and she did that. I changed her overnight incontinence stuff and while I was doing that she saw imaginary wetness on the floor as well as several imaginary insects moving about. We captured the imaginary insects after getting off the toilet and searched for more. Afterward she announced that she wanted scrambled eggs and ham. I sadly reported that we were out of ham and I would have to go to the store the next day and fix that but I could do scrambled eggs and toast. She was okay with that modification.

I made her scrambled eggs at 2 AM.

After she ate we returned to bed. I did not hear the living room clock strike three but that may have been because I stopped its pendulum while I was laying on the sofa-bed earlier next to it counting the ticks and the tocks.

It is 10 AM and she is still sleeping and I am wondering how long to let her sleep. We plan to meet one of her friends for lunch today at 12:30 or so. And what should I offer her for breakfast. This day is starting out very hard for Cheryl and very slowly.

Carpe the breakfast Diem.