activities

Music – Nostalgia and Healing

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Lately I have noticed how the residents at the Harbor at Bridgeway Pointe seem to perk up and take part in the music that gets played occasionally either as a part of Hospice care or BP’s effort to provide activities for them. Most residents have some physical inability to participate fully and yet they do their part. Music has this effect on everyone.

One day when I returned to my little condo I looked at our old stereo and drug the two plastic tubs of LPs that had made the cut to our new place from the old one. Once before Cheryl and had done this but it has been a few years now.

I have played several old albums during the past few evenings. We have quite a collection of stuff. She tended toward Johnny Mathias and the Four Tops. I tended toward the Iron Butterfly and the Doors but intermingled in the tubs with those are Carly Simon, Crosby Stills & Nash, Peter Paul & Mary and Linda Ronstadt (another parkie). Growing up in the late 60’s and married in the early 70’s, I was very tuned into the Vietnam War and the associated commotion that it stirred up in my generation. So, there are a lot of folk singers in the tubs.

Listening and not listening to Crosby, Stills and Nash this morning, Steven Stills started singing, ” Helplessly hoping her harlequin hovers nearby awaiting a word.” I quit working the quordle for a minute and listened carefully. The refrain, ” They are one person. They are two alone. They are three together. They are for each other.” made me cry and think about Cheryl.

“Wordlessly watching he waits by the window and wonders at the emptiness inside.” – Steven Stills. 1969 Gold Hill Music Inc.

I needed a bit of nostalgia. This song and these words have a different meaning to me today. I will spend some time thinking about this today. I think Cheryl is getting close to the end and it breaks my heart. It is hard to find good in any of this situation.

Carpe the damn Diem and keep looking.

Today Too day Two day

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I got up earlier than usual, although not that much earlier. I did not sleep well. I have little idea why that I did not sleep well. Often I wonder why that is or why other things are. There often is no answer to; Why?

Small children ask this of their parents. My parents are both gone so I have no one bigger or more elder to me to ask, “Why?”.

Y is also the second to last letter in the English alphabet. Z, the last letter, is often used in graphic novels and comic strips to indicate that the character is sleeping. Why comes just before Sleep. Sleep is how Jesus refers to Lazarus in that story in the Bible.

Yesterday I visited with my son. We sat in the sunshine in his backyard enjoying some time together. My daughter-in-law is off on a trip with her mother visiting a new niece. They currently live in Spain so that child will eventually ask, “por qué ?​” (thank goodness for Google translate.)

This morning as I sat and watched the CBS morning news with little interest, I noticed my neighbor Pat walking to and fro past my window as she worked on her garden in the rear of our property. Why am I watching this show which has failed to capture my interest on this beautiful sunny day in Ohio? Perhaps I should get up and get my bike out. Why not? I have this wonderful neck brace on my neck. Why should that stop me from doing something that I truly enjoy. Perhaps I can go on a short ride before I go to visit Cheryl today.

Why not? I am done sleeping. Perhaps it is time for a little extracurricular activity.

Carpe Diem!

Dear Cheryl

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Dear Cheryl,

It has been exactly four weeks since I have written to you. The days blend together, so, ever since you have moved to Bridgeway Pointe, I have kept a journal of how you appear to me, your moods, your alertness, my thoughts and other things. As I look through this log of information about the past few weeks I noted many things that have happened during the last four weeks.

A couple days after I wrote the last letter, I was enjoying the sunset with some of our neighbors and was a little more inebriated than I thought at the time and fell while getting up from my chair. I admit to myself that I was feeling a little sad when I came home from visiting you that day. I do not know why. You appeared frail and I noted that I cried when I first saw you that day. I suppose that was still with me when I returned home to make myself dinner. For whatever reason I give myself, I found the bottle of vodka that I had in the freezer and added a little sprite to it in a glass. ( I was out of tonic. ) It was sweeter than I like but I imagined watching the sun go down while I was waiting for the casserole I had put together cook in the oven. Two of our neighbors showed up to join me and all was well until I fell on my face. I must have knocked myself out because I have little memory of the incident until I was looking at a fireman who strongly suggested that I go to the hospital. I had no interest in doing that but I gave in and went anyway. Now I have this collar to wear that you see me in when I come to visit. And now I know what an annoying experience that must have been for you when you were taken to the hospital over the past several years. Although I was not hallucinating at night, sleeping was like trying to get forty winks in a busy elevator.

I went to the hospital on Thursday evening. I came back home on Sunday afternoon. Sleeping on Sunday night was wonderful. I made it to six hours before my bladder took me to the bathroom. All of our kids came to visit with me on Friday. Scott gave me a ride home on Sunday. Anna and David and Scott visited you and me that whole weekend. We have wonderful children.

On Monday I was a little stiff and wearing an old set of eyeglasses. I could see okay but not comfortable driving with my new neck apparel. Your sister, Nancy, offered to drive me over to Bridgeway Pointe so that is what happened on Monday, bloody Monday. About every other day of that week you were sleeping when I came and Nancy gave me a ride to visit another day and we rode you around the building that day. You were more alert and Nancy seemed pleased to do it.

On Monday March 25th I went to see Lauren, our PCP folk. Her office called me the Monday after I got home from the hospital to check on me and ask if I wanted to come in for a visit. I admitted to her that I felt a little sad that day and asked her if there was a grief counselor or psychologist I could talk to about me. I am not sure what I want to get out of such an encounter. Sometimes when I leave you to come home I feel an overwhelming sadness. I did that Thursday a few weeks ago. I thought to have several drinks. That was a normal, I suppose, and stupid reaction. I will have to be aware of that when it creeps up on me. Perhaps I should just call Joyce or your sister Nancy and talk about what I am feeling. I am unsure about how talking to a complete stranger or a group of complete strangers will help. Joyce asked me if it affected my manliness when I felt sad and teary-eyed with others around. I replied that it did not bother me so much but I wished that it would not happen. She pointed out to me that you are a very important person in my life and although you have not passed on from this Earth, in many ways you have passed on from me and that is always going to be hard on me. (I think it is not so hard on you because you seem off somewhere else most days when I come to visit.)

Anna had a party for Virginia’s Birthday. She is sweet sixteen now. Do you remember what a cute two year old she was? I spent David’s birthday in the hospital. I wished him a happy birthday when he came to visit me.

Britney called me on the phone one evening as I was driving home from kissing you good night. She said you had slid out of your wheelchair as they were getting you into bed for the evening. Are you having a harder time sitting up in that chair? Or were you in a hurry to get into bed? I remember when you were home with me sometimes you went to bed early and were in a hurry to get there.

On Easter Sunday when I came to visit, You asked me where I was going today. I told you that I was going to Anna’s house for the afternoon for a cookout. I noted this in my journal because of two things; your voice was very plain and understandable when you asked, it seemed to me to be a very lucid thought. After you asked me that, you said; good, I am going to stay here today. (I noted a small patch of lucidity.)

I took the seat cushion from your wheelchair home to clean it on April Fools Day. It needed it. I traded the other cushion from the kitchen chairs with you. The last time I washed it I had to chase the washer around the utility room. It was out of balance after the cushion had sucked up ten pounds of water from the wash cycle. This time I thought that I would just soak it in the utility sink. I put about six inches of hot water in it and added a little bleach to the water. (It looked like you may have leaked a little onto it one day.) After soaking overnight it had these vivid purplish stains on it. There must be some metal in whatever it is stuffed with. Bleach reacts with a couple different metals to produce a purplish stain. Its clean but it looks bad.

This situation we are in, as I watch you become more and more frail. And as I watch you lose more and more weight. This whole process makes me worry about losing the picture in my head of your lovely smile. I have made a new project for myself of making a collage of you and your smile. So far it is pretty good, I think. I printed it out for you here so you can see for yourself and judge. I do not have a copy of every picture. There are many. On the next page you can see what it looks like so far. I am still searching for one or two other pictures that I know I have but with the cleanup I have been doing around our house I have placed them in a safe place where they will not be lost. I have not found that place back yet.

I have learned many things over the past four weeks. Do not drink vodka if I am sad. Beer will make me get up for a trip to the toilet more often and the alcohol is more dilute.

Avoid overnight stays in a hospital.

I am not interested in puzzles. I tried to become interested after one of the trips to Bridgeway Pointe with your sister. (new hobby and all that…) I have had it partially assembled on the dining room table for about two and a half weeks. I am told that real puzzle workers do not leave them dissembled out for that long. All I can say is that I am not that interested.

I am interested in writing more. I have a loose collection of stories that I call a hitchhiker’s guide to parkinson. That is much like a puzzle to me. Fitting it together as a story and memoir of our last fifteen years or so is a goal. Whether I achieve it or not is up to me.

A total eclipse of the sun is a magnificent sight. I shall remember it forever.

My journal is becoming more than a log of you and how you are. Two days ago I felt that my sourdough starter was far enough along to use it to make a loaf. Over that day I came to visit with you three times while I was waiting for it to proof and develop. At the end of the day after dinner and I got the loaf out of the oven, I came back over to Bridgeway Pointe to visit you. This is what I wrote that night when I returned home: I use this book to write about Cheryl and how she is doing but tonight I was disappointed that she was already in bed. I suppose I could sit with her in the darkened room but I sat on the edge of the bed for a short time and held her hand. I kissed her good night and went home disappointed. — I wanted to sit with her like we used to do.

(In the evening, some nights I really miss just sitting with you – maybe we watch TV, maybe we just talk, maybe you beat me at Scrabble, maybe I read a book and you are sewing on some project.)

Cheryl that is all I have for now. I have tried to catch you up on all the doings that happened since last I wrote. Know always that I love you.

Paul

Carpe Diem

Potato Mashers

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Opening the miscellaneous tools drawer in kitchen can send me down the rabbit hole just like Alice of rock song and wonder land. There are many things in this drawer. All of them have their own memories associated with them.

Before the move to our condo this drawer was much larger. We were less discriminating about which tools to keep and use. Following Cheryl’s ultra frugal idea of we might need it again, we kept many things. In her house as a child and even as we were dating in high school, her Mom kept throwaway plastic utensils. But we all have our little quirks. The picture above has two wire whisks in it because at some point in my life I decided I needed two. Rare has that occasion been but I still have two just in case that situation pops back up.

If I am going to mash potatoes I tend to reach for the handheld electric mixer in the next drawer over. It is way more efficient and quicker. Cheryl liked her mashed potatoes whipped up with a little milk and butter. There is the special two prong fork on the right side of the drawer (prongs are hidden) which is the only tool capable of determining if the potatoes have completed the boiling process. I learned so many cooking techniques from my wife. I can still hear her voice, “Get me the fork to check the potatoes.” Sometimes we would prepare a meal together but often she would shoe me out of the kitchen so that she could do things her way. We all have our ways.

Many nights cooking for myself I think her ways are better. And I was able to have a glass of wine and set the table. I think food tastes better if you do not have to do it yourself.

I did use the potato masher a couple times recently (in the last year) while following the meal preparation card that came with the Hello Fresh ingredients. Cheryl told me that she really does not care for sour cream in her mashed potatoes. “The garlic was okay but couldn’t we use milk and leave out the sour cream?”, she once asked. The potato masher was nestled back into the drawer never to come out again.

There are many stories associated with the implements shown in this drawer picture. The can opener came from a Magic Chef party held by a working friend of Cheryl who we met at Taste of Cincinnati. She was single and had leased an apartment in the old Shilito’s department store building downtown. It was a cute little apartment. I have repaired the handle several times. It has memories of better times associated with it.

As I was preparing to go visit Cheryl today, I pulled a ball cap off the shelf in my closet. Fifteen other hats fell on me. Those hats have a similar set of remembrance stories. Those are for another day.

Carpe Diem.

Lately I’ve Been Thinking

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I did a stupid thing (my word) and injured my neck. After a couple MRIs and a couple of days in hospital and two neurosurgeons consulting with each other the eventual result is wear this necklace (dog collar) for eight weeks and all will be well.

I have found that I am getting used to it. I can remove it to shave and as long as I keep that up, it is not terribly uncomfortable. But that is not what I intended to write about here.

Few people are satisfied with “I fell” as an explanation for my wearing this device. Most will not hesitate to get more details. Those are all people who know me and know Cheryl’s situation. I must have a group of good friends who are concerned with our well being. I am grateful for that concern. It is also something for which I have not learned to be thankful and say thanks often for the kindness and help. I have an explanation of course, my head is generally somewhere else these days but that does not excuse me from being thankful for the extra hands and help.

So, thanks to everyone in my life who has helped me the past few days. You know who you are. Thanks to others who did not need a full explanation of how I fell on my face. It is an embarrassment to me no matter how many times others tell me that things happen. It morphed into some of us old guys telling stories about how we screwed up and luckily did not kill ourselves in the process. – You think that was dumb, wait until you hear this one I did. – A good discussion was had by all.

Today Cheryl was very active and animated. A friend from church and my cousin-in-law came to visit her and then while we were chatting the music guy showed up to get the residents to sing along and drum with the music. It lifted my spirits for a bit.

Carpe Diem.

Sunday Awake Day

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My cheesy grin

Today is Sunday. When I was here earlier Cheryl was dozing. She had taken her meds earlier and ate a little breakfast. Often when I come over on Sunday afternoon she is alert and  active and talking to someone else who is invisible to me. This day is no exception.

She let me sit with her and hold her hands for a few minutes. Now she has rediscovered a knitted fidget that has beads, a pocket, a loop and buttons. Cheryl discovered this shortly after she moved to Bridgeway Pointe and it seems to keep her interest for long periods. She is struggling with the loop to hook it over the bead and button.

The loop is the most fascinating thing. She loves to loop it around her fingers.

I take every opportunity to hold her hand.

Carpe hand holding Diem.

Random Thoughts for Today

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Today I am having one of those — Why is That? – kind of days. Last night or maybe the day before I was flipping through Facebook using up time. A friend had posted a picture of what he had made for breakfast. This morning I made a similar thing. His had bacon. Mine had ham. Why is that? I have bacon in the fridge. More importantly why am I occupying my time with Facebook? Should I not be on Truth Social or X getting excited about Elon and Donald care about? Why do I stick with Mark?

Down the rabbit hole I went. I have a lot of time to use up.

Observations

Extreme motion straight fit tapered leg – I noticed this written inside the waist band of the jeans I threw in the laundry this morning. I have read this before and took no notice. Today I thought, what does that mean? Is there an oxymoron in there somewhere? Are the legs straight or tapered? Is there another way to taper the legs other that in a straight line? Do they do that by hand or is there a sophisticated machine that does that? And what is extreme motion?

I am probably over thinking the banner written on the inside of the waist band. Only I see it when I put these jeans on and throw them into the laundry later. There is very little about my motion that is extreme. This pair of jeans has a little spandex or some other stretchy material mixed into the fabric which makes them comfortable to me.

I have split out two pairs of them in the seat. Perhaps I should look for “Extreme Motion – big butt rounded fit tapered leg” next time. Perhaps I will start looking now. It might take some time to find them.

Carpe Diem

Words, Wordle and Anagrams

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An early morning wake-up activity for me is working my way through the Wordle, Quordle and Octordle, although I have little idea how to pronounce the last one. Being non-competitive does not mean that I do not enjoy intrinsic triumphs. I am a fan of crosswords, golf and trivia. All of these can have an externalized competitive setting but primarily these are the player versus the game itself. Nevertheless, words and word games are a fascination to me.

Occasionally working my way through these in the morning sparks other thoughts. An arbitrary word guess – because i am stuck and I have pecked in five letters to discover what my brain thinks about it – will turn into a valid word, often wrong, but valid. Campo was one of those. I am one of those who has several dictionaries and a couple bibles. I tend to look up bible citations and previously unknown words. “Campo” is a grassland plain in South America. (The Spanish and Portuguese got there first so they got to name things, I guess.)

In Octordle the object is to find all eight words in as few guesses as possible. My first two guesses are generally wasted while I hunt for vowels first. Once one of my vowel words showed all green but that was not my lowest score (low scores are best). Another internal fight I have with myself is to focus (or not) on a single word. Sometimes guesses are answers elsewhere. Those are just strategies. Today in one group all five letters where there after my third word entry (first guess). These were “r,a,t,e,h” sort of clumped in a corner grouping. EARTH or HEART are both good guesses here. I picked heart and I was incorrect. An anagram of both words is HATER which was the correct guess.

My brain whorled off into the ether. Heart versus hater. Light versus dark. Without a heart, one cannot live. Without hate not only can one live but life itself is brighter. An anagram is a simple rearrangement of the same letters. Perhaps we need more anagrams in our lives.

Carpe Diem or maybe Carpe Lucem!

Dance Competition

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A small gymnasium with loud music and time to wait, the pre-dance show is boring. I am glad that I have a book. I am writing facetious nonsense.There is no pre-dance show. It is loud music, unnecessarily so, in a small gymnasium.

The girls on all the teams are enthusiastic and passionate about their routines. As a biased grandfather watching these kids perform I think my granddaughter did the best but two concepts interfere with that assessment, familial relationship and ignorance of the judgment criteria. A rubric would be helpful with the latter. There is no help for the former.

I did enjoy the afternoon with my daughter’s family. Earlier in the day Cheryl had been sleeping soundly in her recliner. I sat with her for a time. She did stir when I talked to her. She did not stir when I kissed her cheek. She did not stir when pulled the blanket from beneath her head and covered her with it. She did not stir when I kissed her good-bye and left to have some lunch before the ride to the competition.

Jazz Dance

Cheryl was safe and taken care of. I went to watch the dancers without concerns for her wellbeing. I thought about how she would have liked to have been there. I made a video to show her later.

Cheer

Carpet 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.