Walks on the Beach and other Memories

Our selfie

When the children were small we began a tradition of making a trip to Myrtle Beach about once each year. The company that I worked for at the time used a pair of common vacation weeks which always landed at the end of July and the first week of August.

The company paid us salaried folks every four weeks called a period. The vacation weeks were the middle two weeks of the eighth period of the year. There were thirteen periods in a year and every few years a week was added to the thirteenth period to correct alignment with a normal calendar year. The Roman’s and later on the Pope would have been proud of Cincinnati Milacron.

Every year for 15 years or so our family went on vacation in the hottest part of the Ohio summer. Since my father worked for Milacron the memories of this vacation time goes back to childhood.

Cheryl liked to hike and walk. Not being an especially athletic person she substituted hiking and walking for any other athletic endeavor. At Myrtle Beach we would get up early hike the empty beach. It is where I first saw the green flash that occurs when the sun comes up over the ocean.

On other vacations over the years hiking was a big motivator. In every state park or national park or area that we stopped in walking and hiking was a major part of the experience. Maps were collected upon arrival and put to good use during the stay. In one Kentucky park our hike was about ten miles. It is without a doubt the thing I miss most with the onslaught of Parkinson. Her struggle to walk freely and move easily is disheartening. It was in many ways our main entertainment.

Conversation, discussion, debate, points won, points lost were all accompanied by a satisfyingly long walk. I think I miss those more than I can easily express.

Today my daughter and her husband took a long walk down the beach together. I was envious.

The hat

This time at the beach I am pushing her here and there. There are special wheelchairs for the beach and they are free. There is good ice cream across the road. I pushed her there too.

Carpe Diem.

Heart and Hater

This morning after I finished my old people chair yoga and relaxed for a bit in the morning quiet with the daily Wordle, I found that four of the five letters were contained in my search for vowel words. Those four letters led me to guess heart which contains all the letters but in the wrong order. The correct answer is hater.

It stuck me as sad that hater is an anagram of heart. These are two very different emotions.

In other news stories over the weekend a gentleman expressed chagrin at the failure of smaller local newspapers. His point was that lack of local fourth estate oversight allows corruption to creep into local government and institutions. The national news organizations will fill the gap but never tell the local story. National issues, although real, affect little in our local lives but tend to polarize our conversation. There is support for this in my home town of Cincinnati.

Indeed the last of the local newspapers, the Enquirer, is a sort of ghost paper. It is part of the USA Today paper equivalent of cable news. The sports section is often more pages than the rest of the paper. Whether it it is causation or merely correlation is probably unknown without more study. Nevertheless three city council folks fell prey to the lure of really fine campaign donations by developers vying for attention. It is sad really. And no doubt these folks thought that they were helping the community. No local news hounds were asking those embarrassing questions that make public figures think about issues in a different light.

Heart versus hater.

The combination of Parkinson and Lewey body dementia some times combines to embarrass Cheryl in the most private of ways. I hate the diseases and what has been taken from her. My heart goes out to her and wishes to save her from any embarrassing moments. Often I fail. No amount of planning for contingencies can prevent every disaster. Incontinence issues can be a disaster or a merely a learning experience. I can be a disease hater and take heart as I help her through it. I have learned to not hate myself for missing things that in retrospect seem obvious should have been planned for things. React and respond.

As Cheryl often reminds me, it’s an adventure. It is! I can hope that she will give me a hint that she needs extra help sometimes but I realize that it is not part of her persona to do so. She was raised to not be a burden and no amount for talking from me will convince her that to me she is not burden. I gave her my heart almost sixty years ago and she is still very private. I feel intrusive when I help her probably because I do it without her permission. I can not stand to watch her struggle. We are too close. I am too much in love with her to do otherwise. Occasionally it causes conflict.

I often write Carpe Diem.  More importantly seize every opportunity to learn and grow.

Our little trip to Florida provides many of those. It is an adventure. It is an opportunity to grow. It swells your heart. I feel any hateful feelings for the disease dissipate for now.

Onward. Carpe Diem.

Bump and Run

Interestingly to me anyway yesterday’s plan works today.  I suppose that overtime I will come to understand that what I want her to do and the speed I want her to do it are not hers so it can never be.

Today’s class is sitting cardiovascular motions.  I features the Beatles and the Righteous Brothers as accompaniment. Nice.

Spirit in the Sky

Carpe Diem.

Scrabble

We play more scrabble these days.

Back in the pre-Parkinson’s days, Cheryl was a computer database wizard (witch?) or at least the guru for several companies that her consulting company serviced as clients.  She spent a lot of time on her computer.  Even in retirement she kept it up with church and other groups providing email news and other communications.

We play more scrabble these days as I try to pry her out of her office and away from her computer which has become more frustrating and confusing to her.  Her other go-to game is bridge but that is hard to do with merely two players and her cognitive function failing.  So, we have been playing scrabble more often.  I offer it as an enticement to get her away from her computer.  Many times it works.  I hate scrabble.

She was (is) a good scrabble player.  A good scrabble player does not worry so much about the words as the score.  A good scrabble player is always hunting around for a word that goes into the corner for the TRIPLE WORD SCORE.  A good scrabble player is always plopping a word on the double word score preferably one with a Z or Q in it. 

I am a lousy scrabble player.  I am always looking for the longest word I can make.  The more pedantic the better it is.  If a player asks – what does that mean? – or challenges its meaning, I am vindicated.  Cheryl often beats me, maybe always beats me.  I love her.  I hate scrabble.

Her computer is becoming more confusing and the frustration has kept her from sleeping. Over time I have contacted some of the organisations that she was doing things for and suggested that they relieve some of the burden on her. It takes her more time and she worried about missing her own perceived deadline. It kept her from sleeping as she got anxious (a good scrabble word) about what she may have forgotten to do. The people she works with have relieved her commitment without grief. They understand her disease and how it screws with her head and her need to stay involved.

So I try to get her to play Scrabble more often. Last evening my lousy play was winning. I was ahead by 40 points at one point. I felt a bit guilty because she was struggling mentally and getting tired. But my lead kept shrinking. Was this a ploy? (one of my words) At the end she was ahead by two points but had many points left on the shelf. Aha! I had some too but fewer. I did the math.

She still beat me by 1 point. I hate scrabble but love her. She still has the killer gamesmanship in her.

Maybe we will try something that I can win at but on second thought that is not the point for me. I hate scrabble. I am not competitive.

Is there an online bridge group for parkies? Google search coming.