My search for grace and meaning after a former care partnering life with a wife who suffered from Parkinson's disease and dementia giving her a confused and disorienting world.
Today is Cheryl’s birth date. She was born on this date many years ago. Many years before we discovered each other in life; God, fate or karma intertwined our existence together in life. It is meant to be.
Yesterday we celebrated. It was a wonderful party. She remarked as we drove home from the park, “That’s the best birthday I’ve ever had. Thank you for putting it all together.” I thank Anna, David and Scott (and Mavis, Eric and Melissa). I had very little to do with it.
Back in March or April when it was starting to warm up and we were both two weeks past our covid vaccinations. Cheryl was anxious to party with the kids and grand-kids. I hopped onto the Hamilton County parks site and reserved a shelter for her birthday celebration. Good time.
Lately I have been thinking about this topic. It came to me while helping my son build a new shed in his backyard. We had planned to go visit on a Sunday afternoon. He had bought a kit the previous week. He had assembled the floor on Saturday and we used that to assemble the frames for the walls. It is was very satisfying work. It made me feel useful and happy. Dinner was good that evening.
That feeling of being useful made me feel happy. The physical exercise was probably part of it too.
The Covid-19 pandemonium has kept me from seeing my sister for a long time. It is not as though we need to see each other often but of our original family only she and I are left. Somehow that makes it more important to talk and see each other. I have set up a trip out west to visit her. My nephew, Jeffrey, is getting married soon, so she and I will meet in his part of the universe. We will meet up a couple days ahead of time and wear ourselves out eating and chatting. I have spent the money with the airline. The trip is set that makes me happy.
Acceptance of what is removes doubt and anxiety about what might have been. Those concerns that are no longer concerning can make one happy. Look at this little cartoon I tripped over somewhere. Look at all the negatives that one leaves behind by accepting the fact that it is raining. Yup. It is raining. You will get wet today. Plan accordingly.
One cannot change the weather.
Today I frittered away much of the day reading a novel that I began yesterday evening before going to bed. I very much enjoy discovering an author whom I have not read before and becoming immersed in the story being told. The outside world disappears for a time. It makes me happy.
Once in a while little disappointments creep into our lives. We can dwell on those and build them into the mansion that they are not or they can be let go. If one does not dwell on the disappointments in life and focuses on the joys of life, happiness comes in abundance.
Zarchary
Look at this face and tell me that it does not give your heart joy and make you happy. Young children in all their innocence have to be taught life’s disappointments. How would they turn out if they were never taught these things? What if they were only taught life’s joys?
In this world of Parkinsonism that Cheryl and I find ourselves I look for happiness wherever I am able to find it. Most times it is in the very small things where I find happiness. If Zachary comes to visit and does not get upset when Mom leaves for a couple hours we are happy. If Cheryl is having a good day after she has slept well she is happy which makes me happy. If we have lunch out and she is able to find something that she wants she is happy which makes me happy. In a few days we will celebrate Cheryl’s birthday in a park. It may rain. Inclement weather is predicted for that day. But I will be happy. We have had one more year together.
Stay moving and get as much exercise as you can stand. It releases endorphins and makes you happy.
As corny as it sounds I helped my son build a shed today. He had assembled the floor yesterday. We framed out the four walls today. The rain stopped the building for now.
Perhaps if one would choose, a bit more experience would precede making a pie for company.
About Thursday of last week, something she saw on television or read in the paper caused her to decide that she would make a pie for dessert on Sunday.
In her mind’s eye, it was no big deal. In her mind’s eye there is no Parkinson’s disease. In her mind’s eye she has plenty of stamina. On the way home from dinner at Through the Garden Restaurant on Friday evening we stopped at the grocery and bought some apples. On Saturday she cut up and peeled three of the four apples and had to sit down. I peeled and cut up the last one and another for just-in-case.
She took her meds and laid down for a bit. When she felt a little better, I made the crust under her tutelage. We (I) rolled it out and started over about a dozen times. I quit to put on shoes and gather my stuff for a trip to the store for a premade crust. On the way through the kitchen I stopped to try just once more with a twist.
My twist worked and we (I) assembled the pie.
Today we will take it to my son’s house to see how it turned out.
My other son’s wife is an expert pie maker. I probably should have subcontracted the pie to her and they live pretty close by. Maybe next time I will do this or maybe next time I will practice making crust.
She put on her year old Nike walkers. It was one of those sunny spring days that says fresh and new is what we are up to today.
Where should we go? – c;
Let’s go up Troy. I hate to go through the dip.- p;
Okay. -c;
There is a quick look around and search for keys and other kit.
What’s the weather like? – c;
Warm. Probably no sweater. – p;
Are you sure? I thought it was supposed to rain. – c;
Nope. Sure. Look. – p;
He holds the door to the front porch open.
It does look nice out. – c;
Out the door and off on two miles or so.
Cortelyou (core-tell-you or cortil-you, your choice) avenue is named after John Cortelyou who either developed or owned that part of Pleasant Ridge. On plat maps the area is referred to as the John Cortelyou subdivision. John and his wife Martha are buried in the Pleasant Ridge Presbyterian Cemetery on Montgomery. The pavement is narrow and parking is only permitted on the west side of the street. The part of the street that they live on if allowed to connect to it would make an acute angle to Ridge road. Troy avenue which meets Cortelyou just before it drops down a short incline towards Losantiville road makes the base of a right triangle with Ridge and Cortelyou.
Troy avenue meets Ridge road precisely where Ridge curves to the right to head south again after coming up the hill from the little valley that holds Amber creek. The short street meets the thoroughfare with an acute angle to the left and a right angle to the on the other side. There are mostly single family houses on the south side of the street and mostly multifamily buildings on the north side. It is a pleasant street. Narrow along its length but bright and sunny with few large trees along its length to obscure the view towards Ridge road.
Ridge road is poorly named because it never travels along a ridge in the earth but rather perpendicular to several. It would be more aptly named Over the Ridges Road but, no doubt, this name was rejected when the names were being given out or the makers of maps became tired of precision and in their gay manner shortened the name to Ridge rather than ‘Over the Ridges’ or ‘On the Way to Ridge’ or even ‘Up to the Ridge and down Again’ road.
As they walked they spoke of their surroundings and of people they knew. He came with her as he usually did on this day to get to know her better. They were empty nesters now. All three of their children were grown and moved away. He did not often want to simply walk around the neighborhood but she was okay with that she pushed him to get out of the chair and move. It is a nice day. Let’s go.
They took the acute angle at the end of the street and walked north in front of the houses that were originally built, as the story goes, to show off the type of housing available to be built in nearby Norwood. No matter the back story these are beautiful old houses set far back from the west edge of the street. Some well kept. Some developing creeping overgrowth. An earlier majesty and grace left for some later owner to recover and let the homes bloom again.
At the top of the rise where the road dipped back down into the valley, they crossed into the neighborhood on the east side of Ridge. Through a small dip in the topography and up toward Grand Vista. Grand Vista climbs a hill to the left as they walked toward Montgomery road. This road is known as the Pike by the older generation.
At this point the conversation is interrupted to ask, up or not?
I think not -c.
Okay. – p.
Following Grand Vista to the cul de sac and back out will add over a mile to the walk. One can turn a mere walk into a trek in this fashion. They continue to Montgomery Pike.
Turning south on Montgomery they headed back into the business section of the old village of Pleasant Ridge just one of the ridges that over the ridges road went over in its meandering trail south toward the old village of Oakley. Near this turn anchoring one end of the business grouping is the Pleasant Ridge branch of the Hamilton County Public Library. They paused for a moment to allow a young mother to organize children, bicycles and a stroller as the family left the library with their booty.
It is a magnificent day for a walk around the neighborhood and they are enjoying themselves. The temperature is warm. The sky is the shade of pure blue that appears after a spring shower washes the air. The daffodils are near the end of their reign but stubbornly hanging onto their beauty as early tulips attempt to shoulder them out of view.
As they near Kincaid Rd. another key decision point he asks, Kincaid?
Yes, she replies.
They turn north on Kincaid on the west side of the street. During this entire walk p. has moved to her right or left to place himself between her and the street. In his own mind it is proper for the male to position himself between the female and the passing traffic. He is not certain where this ingrained behavior has come from. He merely knows that is what he needs to do. So, he has placed himself on her right side as they walk down the street.
…
As they walk he notices that occasionally she struggles to keep with him and this causes him to slow a little and look down at her feet. The walk is narrow and he thinks that perhaps he has hogged more of the width than he is entitled to. As he watches she is not lifting her left foot always. She is dragging it in a limping motion.
Being a man, he teases – are you having a stroke, dear?
She replies with – I don’t know. My leg does not seem to work right.
They slowed more and he held her hand as they walked. She seemed to be struggling to maintain any sort of normal gait. When they got to Harvest they turned and headed back home.
…
I always remember Cheryl’s initial struggles with Parkinson’s this way. She remembers a different story. About this time she was a big deep water aerobics fan and participated in a class at the YMCA about three times a week. Later on we joined the Jewish Community Center and she did deep water aerobics there.
If you ask her she will describe going in circles in her water aerobics class when she wanted to go straight down the pool. She probably did that but what I remember most is this little walk we took one day many years ago.
A birthday picnic is a great way to do that. So, I reserved the picnic shelter in the upper left of this aerial photo to celebrate Cheryl’s (Grandma’s) birthday this year. If I can get all of her kids and grand kids and step grand kids all in one spot, she will be satisfied and happy.
Cheryl’s birthday often coincides with Mother’s Day. That always comes up when I suggest that we have dinner, a picnic or some other thing to celebrate her birthday. “You know that’s Mother’s Day? Right?”, she will say. Actually I never think about Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, Sweetest Day, Valentine’s Day, Sibling’s Day, Cousin’s Day or any of those other made up holidays. A curmudgeonly attitude to be sure, but personally I blame date dyslexia.
This year we are going to celebrate Cheryl’s birthday regardless of whatever else may be going on around us.
Maybe some of those other folks that have their own day will stop by to celebrate Cheryl Day with us.
Parkinson’s disease slows everything down so that many activities are hard. Just bull your way through that and do it anyway. Carpe the damn Diem.
Cheryl fell yesterday trying to retrieve something from her office. Our neighbor had been over for a Lenten dinner of fish and macaroni and cheese. She brought some fruit and ginger bread. During our discussion after dinner Jane said something that caused Cheryl to go to her office to retrieve a church bulletin. She stumbled and fell into the corner of the cabinet that props the printer off the floor. She bruised her chest. It was hurting her today. She moped around for a while and I convinced her to take an Ibuprofen to relieve the ache a bit.
After a bit she announced that she did not feel up to going to church. A bit later I suggested that we go to our favorite park to walk along the riverbank. We did that. A wedding party was celebrating and taking pictures.
We stopped at Nick’s Cafe in Cleves, Ohio for an early dinner – late lunch.
We took the scenic route home and I suggested we stop for ice cream. Aglemisis’ is very small in Montgomery. We got ice cream to go and sat in the car for a time and just talked. When we came home she laid down and rested for a bit.
When she got up, she looked through her Christmas cards. She was comforted by that activity.
This book is a favorite of mine. If I remember to do it when I make mashed potatoes and something for dinner, I save the potato water and leftover mashed potatoes to make bread a couple days later. Two nights ago I remembered. I saved the water that I boiled the potatoes in. In his recipe he strongly suggests not adding anything to the potatoes.
Having gone through a couple of recipe cards from Hello Fresh recently I have decided that I like mashed potatoes made with sour cream and butter. Some of these were left over. I have about a cup of mashed potatoes. I used these. I am interested to discover how that modifies the flavor.
I have made this recipe with plain potatoes and with mashed potatoes in the past. Baking bread is intriguing for me because it seems very small changes to a recipe can make very large changes in flavor. Try it – grease one loaf pan with Crisco and grease another with lard. The flavor difference is noticeable. Very subtle but also very different flavor in the type of release agent used.
The round loaf goes to a neighbor who made a tuna noodle casserole out of the blue and gave it to us. She supplied it in a large ramekin bowl so I used it to bake the boole in. I hope she likes it. Potato bread makes hearty french toast.
If you can, bake something every week. Life is a one time deal but better with fresh bread!
Today I was working on material for school and as I often do I ask Alexa to play the first artist’s music that jumps into my head. Today Phil Collins and his old band Genesis jumped into my head. I asked for Phil Collins by name and found myself listening to a bunch of Disney tunes. “You’ll be in my heart” (Tarzan) just got to me emotionally and tears came to my eyes.
I suppose it is hard for men to come to grips with how they feel about someone or something if it involves emotion. Many of us are embarrassed by our emotions. I know I am. But I have come to grips with the fact that it is a good idea to let those emotions pour out without embarrassment. I try to do it in private if I can find privacy. I have no worries if I cannot.
As the Parkinson’s disease continues, I get a sort of slow motion grief feeling that takes all of my effort to recover from. This feeling is occasionally overwhelming. Music can bring the emotional response to this feeling spontaneously. I my case, I usually do not recognize that I was feeling this way in the background. Words to song or a melody will bring it to the surface. Earlier this morning I spontaneously began to cry. I waited for a bit and felt better. I suppose it released something in me because I feel better about life today.
Cheryl seems pretty good today also. Let’s have lunch out somewhere after exercise class. Okay, she said.
It is a rainy almost Spring day in Ohio and for now Parkinson’s is in the background.
The Covid-19 pandemonium has kept me from seeing my sister for a long time. It is not as though we need to see each other often but of our original family only she and I are left. Somehow that makes it more important to talk and see each other. I have set up a trip out west to visit her. My nephew, Jeffrey, is getting married soon, so she and I will meet in his part of the universe. We will meet up a couple days ahead of time and wear ourselves out eating and chatting. I have spent the money with the airline. The trip is set that makes me happy.
Once in a while little disappointments creep into our lives. We can dwell on those and build them into the mansion that they are not or they can be let go. If one does not dwell on the disappointments in life and focuses on the joys of life, happiness comes in abundance.
Adjunct_Wizard 