Ennui (un-WEE)

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Ennui is a feeling of listlessness and dissatisfaction arising from a lack of occupation or excitement according to the Oxford entry that pops up when one pokes this word into Google. I have several dictionaries in print form. They are left over from my high school and college days. My copy of the American Heritage Dictionary (copyright 1971) defines it as a feeling of listlessness and dissatisfaction arising from a lack of interest (boredom). It is a small word that conveys a big emotion.

This word was part of the Quordle this morning. I did not get it. It is not part of my regular vocabulary. It is adopted into the English language from the French. The French have a lot of good words that are adopted into English. Altruism or the root of that word is another. Entrepreneur is another.

Words are a fascination for me. I think this word, ennui, is an excellent description of how and what I feel emotionally when I get home from visiting Cheryl at Bridgeway Pointe.

Moving forward from this point I will strive to become more engaged in life around me. Look for things to stimulate my interest. Succumb to various fascinations that I have about the world. Immerse myself in new vistas of my environment.

These last ideas are antonyms to ennui. Introspection is useful. Self-absorption is not. Perhaps I have been too self-absorbed to understand and accept emotional help from those around me.

I will meditate about that today. My son has invited me for dinner.

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

A New Day, New Responsibilities

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My son’s life got jammed up today. He asked me if I could be at his house when the smallest grand son, Zachary, got off the bus in the afternoon. I said sure I can do that for you.

Four weeks ago that would not have been my answer. A couple of days ago it was yes.

Life changed when Cheryl moved into Bridgeway Pointe. She adjusted pretty quickly. I think that it is taking me longer. She slept late today. Today I have babysitting duty.

And as luck would have it, I was not needed for duty.

Haiku: Too bad, how sad, Dad. | Zachary okay today. | No need for grand Dad.

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

Grandkids and Influence

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I seems to me as I go through life I do not know where little things that influence my thinking and move me in a different direction will come from.

When she was a very small child and it seemed barely able to speak, my son and his family including our granddaughter, Regan came to visit one day. Grandpaw (me) was sitting on the front porch enjoying a cigar and probably a beer. Regan looked up at me with her beautiful 2 year old face and stated, “You know grampa, that is very unhealthy!” She was right of course so I quit smoking. Not right away it took a couple years and I still miss having a cigar now and then. My grandfather smoked cigars and I thought they smelled good. Cigar smoke reminds me of him, I suppose.

These days I have been moping around with no Christmas spirit or interest in the holidays for that matter. Cheryl was always the driving force behind our Christmas celebrations. The past couple years I was tasked with the shopping duties for the grandkids. Since I consider myself to be a lazy shopper but efficient, I texted the kiddos and asked them for ideas about what they thought they might want for Christmas. Often I did not hear back from Maxwell. This year without asking I heard from him first. He bumped me out of my morose humbug thoughts about Christmas, the holidays, gift giving and the rest of it.

Thanks, Max. Thanks for getting me out of my sadness. It is maybe not completely gone but I am moving in a different direction. And sure, if you want that, I will get it for you. Merry Christmas!

Carpe Diem.

Rye Bread & Cooking for Myself

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Yesterday my daughter suggested that I might like to come to a school concert in which her youngest daughter was playing in the band. I decided that I could sit home and mope around or I could go to watch my granddaughter play her trumpet. I decided on the school concert.

Making bread, for me, is great therapy. After the concert we returned to Anna’s house to hang out for a little while. Eric had gone to a convention for collection of baseball cards and other baseball memorabilia. He is as is his son a fan of baseball. Eric was showing me some of his purchases. He was beaming with delight. I teased him about being a super fan. He replied that you have to have something that will take your mind away from daily things that are less desirable to think about. Those are not his words exactly but the intent of the words. For me that activity that takes me away is bread and baking and by extension cooking.

Yesterday when I returned from visiting Cheryl. I made Rye bread.This recipe from King Arthur is a favorite. Rather than find where I stashed it last time I printed it again and followed it exactly which is something I rarely do.

There is relief in kneading dough. It is much like getting a great back massage. There is aroma therapy from the oven as it bakes. There is anticipation removing it from the oven. There is blindness for a bit as the oven releases the steam from baking onto my glasses.

I set the bread to cool on a rack and went back to visit Cheryl who was struggling with resting and going to bed at night after having spent the previous night and early morning in the ER from falling Saturday night. With the nurse’s help I got Cheryl into her bed.

I am leaving in a few minutes to find out how well she slept overnight. When I left her she was laying on her left side as she did with me at home. I got a good look at the bruise on her face from hitting her head when she fell.

Breathe in. Breath out. Move on. Bake bread if you are able. Love deeply always. Take notice those around you who need help. Ask them if you can help.

Carpe Diem.

Gamache (Louise Penny) and Croissants

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“Grief is love with no place to go.” says Armand to a young killer. Amazon Videos has made shows out of several of the stories written by some of my favorite authors.

Watching one of these videos the other night while waiting for my croissants to fluff up for the oven, this quote jumped out at me.

I think I am feeling that these days. Baking can be therapeutic. It is a hobby I have perused for many years. When My sister came to visit a couple weeks ago I made her pot roast one evening. It was great and I used the leftover mashed potatoes in a recipe I have for potato bread. That turned out great. Something I have not tried to do but I now have the time for is croissants and other pastry.

Yesterday I made some croissants. (Why is there two sses in croissant?) Here is a image of my first effort. I took them to Cheryl this morning but she was sleeping.

I also need more practice with the croissants. The other half of the croissant dough is resting in the freezer waiting for me to become inspired to try it again. I think maybe a hotter oven and proof the yeast a bit when I start the dough. The recipe I was following used wet (cake) yeast which I do not have. Perhaps further experimentation with technique. These two out of ten turned out okay – not bad for a first effort.

Holy cow they are rich. There is a whole pound of butter in this recipe.

Carpe Diem.

A New Attitude

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My brother-in-law’s wife recently had some surgery to her neck and over the past couple weeks we have exchanged text messages and visits. I ask how he is doing and how my sister-in-law is doing. Often I send him my latest picture of Cheryl at Bridgeway Pointe. Yesterday we had the following exchange.

  • Thanks for sharing. Tari still has lots of pain !!! I am tired and frustrated !!! How are You ?? — 2:36 PM
  • Not tired and frustrated. With little to do for Cheryl, I think lonely and broken hearted. Is Tari home or in rehab? How did that turn out? — 3 pm
  • Rehab did not go well. Tari is home now. Waiting to see about Home Health Care. — 4:29 pm
  • In home physical therapy sessions? — 4:30 pm
  • I guess. Not sure. –4:31 pm

I wrote lonely and brokenhearted to him. It was the first time I admitted that to anyone.

I get up in the morning and realize again that I have no particular schedule. Nothing that I have or want to accomplish this day. Three weeks ago my day was centered around Cheryl. I made very few specific plans for me that did not include her somehow. I focused on getting her going, up and out, onward and into the sunshine. In the Autumn months when it is still warm, just four weeks ago, I conjured little trips to the places where we used to walk. I did carryout from a little chicken place nearby sometimes and we had a picnic. Her in her rollie chair and me waving the bugs away. In September I had my picnic supplies in the trunk of the car so that we could do that spontaneously (Carpe Diem). My main goal for each day was simply to get her out into the sunshine somewhere.

A new attitude is my goal today and the rest of my days. I need to be less broken hearted. Lonesomeness I think I can deal with. That feeling will come and go. Cheryl is safe and well cared for at Bridgeway Pointe.

Carpe Diem. Cheryl is safe and well cared for at Bridgeway Pointe. (Repeat)

(Repeat)

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.

Little Treasures

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For the past couple weeks I have been sorting through and pitching out much of Cheryl’s punding piles that she had squandered away all over her office area. Many of these are simply random collections of old and very old birthday and Christmas cards.

Today I discovered a small envelop with a picture that had been taken of us at a formal dance in 1969. A treasure it is to be sure. But the letter makes reference to me as though I know the writer. She sent it to Cheryl at her address in St. Bernard.

I have no memory of this event. I have no memory of Ginny. Ginny did not pass along her last name. She only passed along her address on the envelope. Who is Ginny? To be continued…

This picture so old that I did not have a mustache or old wrinkled skin or gray hair. I was eighteen and so is Cheryl.

Carpe Diem.