Elizabeth, like bluedaze, I truly feel that you are an inspiration. The pain and journey, and also the wisdom you have shared has soothed the pain I feel. Hopefully you did not misunderstand my previous posting. I wish you, from the bottom of my heart, what is best for you. God bless, in Italian or Irish ... I wish you the best ... I knew friends from both nationalities. God bless as you go forward.
Elizabeth, Here are the kinds of things I am wondering about: Did you do a lot of research in advance? Did you take tours when you were there or did you visit the tourist sites on your own? If on your own, what kind of transportation did you use and how did you know the fares, etc.? What were the most interesting places you visited? Did any of the sites just seem like tourist traps? How did you find out which pubs were good to go to? As a woman travelling alone, did you feel comfortable in the pubs? Did you sit at a table or at the bar? How did you strike up conversations with people? Did you ever get discouraged or question why you went? At what point did you realize that this trip was turning into a real success? How long did it take you to begin to feel like a person again and not just a caregiver of others? Did you learn anything on this trip that you can pass on to us about how to reclaim our status as human beings?
That's a tall order, Myrtle, but I'll try to answer as succinctly as I can. Yes, I researched Dublin in advance, as I had never been there. I ordered a city map from Amazon, read up on what would be interesting to see, and studied travel sites to hone up on my one-bagger and how-to-pack-light skills. I picked a couple places a little further afield that I hoped to see on day trips. I researched hostels, came up with a fair balance between comfort, convenience, and frugality, and booked well in advance. I also researched what would be "doing" in town during my dates, and booked the Abbey Theatre ticket. It isn't necessary to look for a formal tour of Dublin. I recommend highly a two-day ticket for the Hop-on, Hop-off bus, which will help orient you and drive you around past all the sightseeing attractions any tourist would want to see. They provide a sightseeing map of central Dublin. I did buy a regular Dublin bus pass, (sort of like the NYC metro card), but don't really feel I got enough use out of it. I walked everywhere for the most part, and for me, everything was new and interesting. (Oh, look! An Irish dog! An Irish manhole cover! An Irish mailbox! An Irish flowerpot! Etc., etc.) There are Tourist Information offices in central Dublin that are absolutely invaluable, and will help you find anything. That is where I booked my two day tours, one to the Wicklow Mountains and the monastic site and lakes at Glendalough, and one to Belfast, the Titanic Museum, the rope bridge at Carrick-a-Rede, and the Giant's Causeway. I honestly found everything interesting, and can't think of one thing I wouldn't have done...and I need to go back, because I couldn't fit everything in. I've heard people say this or that is a tourist trap and you should avoid it...like, oh, that Temple Bar area is just too touristy...Good Lord, I was a Tourist with a capital T, and personally I loved Temple Bar. That's where my hostel was. It is centrally located and convenient to everything. If I want rocks, rain, and sheep, I'll fly in to Shannon Airport and disappear into the West. Anyway, there are pubs everywhere. I felt comfortable going in alone, after the first night or two, when I just asked the barkeep if it was all right, and they just took me under their wings. I did not sit at the bar, but would sit at a two-top. I didn't think it was right to hog a four-top. Or I would ask the server, "Is this all right? Because I'm just one person." It may be that my silver hair made them treat me like their grandmother...with solicitous consideration...but servers and barkeeps were very nice to me. I would order a glass of Guinness or Hop House lager (recommended by the servers as being similar to the lighter American beers), and order food. If I was sitting there longer, like to hear the music, I would then ask for a cup of tea. A "glass" of beer means a half-pint. Sometimes I talked to people and sometimes I didn't...it just seemed to depend on whether it seemed natural or not. In the hostel room, of course, my roommates and I yammered quite a bit. I never got discouraged or questioned why I went...what astonished me was how much I felt at home and how much fun I was having. What was hardest was the jet lag for the first three days or so...not so much a fatigue as a nasty sick, dizzy, woozy feeling. Lots of fresh, cool air and hot, hot tea...and time...helped that. Also the walking/hiking to the tourist attractions at Glendalough and the N. Ireland coast was very strenuous. I came very close to not being able to do it, but did not want to be the stereotypical weak, obese, flabby American...so gritted my teeth, concealed my discomfort, and did everything the kids and foreigners did. Thank God they do have ibuprofen in the Irish pharmacies.
There were two high points when I realized the trip was a success for me personally, and in fact was turning out to be a big milestone in the Alzheimers caregiver journey. One was as I was sitting in the William Butler Yeats exhibit in the National Library of Ireland, on a bench in this booth listening to beautiful readings of his poetry while evocative slides were shown on the walls of the booth. I was in that exhibit for two hours...you couldn't get me out of the place. The words were so powerful...if I can explain it at all, my feelings were that Alzheimers is powerful, but it is not the only strong force in the world (although it seems like it sometimes). There is strength, power, and force out there in other ways...and life isn't all Alzheimers all the time. The second high point, or turning point, was just getting social in a pub with a native Dublin woman (a "Dub" as they call themselves) and another visitor from Manchester, and some folks who didn't speak much English...we were just singing and clapping and dancing...the band was having fun, too...and the step dancers came out...and somehow I was twirling around with the "Dub" lady, and then the step dancers pulled me into a reel. (Which thank God I had some notion how to do.) You can't make this stuff up...it was just one of those moments out of time...so much fun.
So I had an "aha" moment and said to myself that between the Yeats exhibit and prancing around the pub, for the first time I felt totally, completely, free of the Alzheimers demon. And I realized that for me, as I think I already posted somewhere, my life...MY LIFE...going forward is going to incorporate a lot of music and creativity. But I had to get completely away from family and the usual environment to figure that stuff out.
So I hope this helps somebody else. (Much too long...sorry. Should have just started an off-topic thread as Charlotte suggested.)
Oh My Goodness, Myrtle, you could be another Terry Gross. What evocative, helpful questions to get elizabeth* to tell her wonderful story. Thank you both. I loved, LOVED, the travelogue and especially how it inspired you, elizabeth*, and cleared your head. Sharing this has been so helpful - it gives me HOPE that I might too shed the Alzheimer demon some day.
I am 7 1/2 months out from my husband's death, and still not doing well. My sister has been with me here for the past two months, which has helped a lot. In one week, we will be driving cross-country back to New Jersey, where I will stay until mid January. I can't face the upcoming holidays here, and just wish they weren't happening at all. All I can think of is last year when I had Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners with my DH at the memory care center, and how I was certain this would be a yearly tradition. I still cannot believe he only lasted 7 months there, when I saw other husbands and wives whose spouses had been there for 4 to 5 years. Perhaps it's better that I didn't know, I don't know.
I am still terribly bereft and unable to function well. Although I seem to have accepted the fact of his death better, I am still struggling to find reasons to go on. I am not lacking for things to do, or feeling uncertain about my future, as I've always managed the practical side of life very well. It's the emotional side that gets me; I'm still feeling as though I really don't have any great incentive to keep going on, and still believing there is no way to be happy or even just peaceful again. This grief is horrific, and although it hasn't been long, it is taking a toll on me that is difficult to bear.
Just go with it, Joni. Going through these fires of hell...and boy, can I ever relate...it is the only way to come out to the daylight on the other side. You can't avoid it or evade it, or you won't heal. Try to treat yourself gently and be good to yourself. Just take the time you need to slog through the misery. I've said this a time or two, but it's true: The love you and your husband had for each other will get you through this. Don't push yourself to "move forward" or "meet new people" or whatever nonsense people who don't "get it" will probably spout at you from time to time. Your timeline is your own, and you just need to get through this in your own time and in your own way. Lots of hugs (((((( )))))) Keep in touch and let us know how it is going. People on this site "get it" so much more than others do.
IHi Joni 1957*, Your words resonated with me and rest assured you are not alone. I am coming up to 7 months and like you am managing the practical side of things but it is the emotional part that I am struggling with. I just completed. 6-week group with hospice that did help me simply for the fact that there were other widows there struggling with the same issues and everyone "gets it". I have children but they are busy with their lives and do not call that much. That is nice that you have someone to stay with you and you are traveling a bit. I am basically by myself most of the time. I went to a holiday bereavement group at my church Sunday and they assured us that we will get through it and to just take one day at a time and not focus too far ahead. But it is hell going through it. I have a close friend who calls me every day and that helps. I volunteered at my church last weekend and that helped. I have found that I have to try different things and then decide if it helps or not. I have been working from home for 10 years and realize it is no longer working for me because it is way too isolating and I know now I have to find a way to get out and be with people more. I think it is just a process of finding oneself again after so many years of care taking where many of us lost who we are . Thank you for sharing. It helps me to know I am not alone. God bless
Joni and CO2, I completely understand what you are talking about.....it's just been 6 months for me and while some days are fine and I feel pretty good, there are others where I feel it is all bleak, lonely and hopeless going forward. I think the weekends are the worst for me as those are the days we spent more time together. I do have supportive children, their spouses and grandchildren but they have their own lives. One of my SIL's came by on the weekend and put up my outside Christmas lights - even though we will be spending Christmas in Oregon, I thought it would feel a bit more festive to have the cheery lights. I guess I'm just feeling stuck about how to move forward and begin meeting new people. I almost signed up for an 8-week grief course but then chickened out as I felt it would only be extending that 'sitting in Alzheimer's 24-7' feeling ....not that everyone else attending would have dealt with AD but we would be talking about grief and recovery. Instead, I recently heard about a widows' walking group and have decided to check that out, at least it will getting fresh air and exercise while chatting with others.
Elizabeth, I loved being an armchair traveller with your interesting tour of Dublin .......gives me hope for the future!
It has been 5 months, and I am struggling as much as all of you. The grief is horrific. Physical. Painful. Awful. I can only talk to my counselor and other widows about it, because, honestly, no one wants to hear it after the first month. Time to get on to the next exciting chapter of your life, so they all say. Spending the month of November with my sister and my great nieces and nephews is helping. Certainly better than spending it alone, but even she is on a "you need to do something with your life" kick. I told her as politely as possible that she has NO IDEA what I am going through. None. Zero. To her credit, she did agree with me. Twelve years of caregiving has knocked the stuffing out of me; taken a physical toll that doesn't seem to be getting better. But the emotional toll cuts so deep that I have no idea how to heal from it. I don't have the physical or emotional energy for much of anything. I cry myself to sleep at night, aching for the husband I had before Alzheimer's Disease took him apart piece by piece. That is the man who I watched die in Hospice House. That is the man I grieve for.
Yes, I am able to enjoy individual experiences. I had fun at the two concerts and casinos we attended the last two weekends. I enjoyed the decorating project I did with the kids. So I guess that is some progress. But overall, a cloud of sadness hangs over me, and I can't shake it. I miss my partner, my lover, my friend, my husband of 45 years.
So I come here, to the place I built, to gain support and understanding, just as you do.
Hi Joan, Joni, C02 and nbgirl. Hope you all are hanging in there--I've had a bad couple of days, too. Can't seem to stop thinking about Larry, missing him, etc. I think re-painting the house, making it fresh and new-looking, has just emphasized all the more that the good old days are gone, and the world is moving on. It helped to go for a long walk though--fresh air and exercise can make a difference-- and I have a good book to read tonight. I waste too much time browsing the Internet when I've got the blues, but I do find that listening to music and watching singers I like on Youtube before I go to bed seems to be helpful. I don't know why...maybe just because it's relaxing.
Last night I listened to music, then soaked in a warm bathtub while reading my book...got into bed and continued to read...slept an extra hour...feel much better this morning, and have already played a song on the piano (out of the kids' simple Christmas songbook--very easy and not painful to play)...I feel happier again. I'm actually looking forward to the day to some extent.
So maybe taking care of ourselves...trying to create comforting, pleasant experiences for ourselves (albeit "lazy"...ha,ha)...is part of the solution for healing. Sounds simplistic, but at this point I'm just getting desperate to build a new, happy life that works. I get tired of feeling bad.
Elizabeth * thanks for your suggestions. I think you are right that learning to take good care of ourselves is the primary task to accomplish as we work through the grief. I was with my children and grandchildren last night and did not feel as disconnected as I did a month earlier. Hospice gave me a list of books. They are all well written. Not all were dealing with dementia but losing their husbands and dealing with widowhood and what they went through have helped me. The books are Companion Through the Darkness by Stephanie Ericsson, Widow's Journey by Xenia Rose and Widowed by Dr Joyce Brothers. I think the most difficult thing is findings friends to do things with. I do have a few and I do see them occasionally but it is the close intimacy that I miss. One thing I realized about 2 weeks ago is that the little job I have working from home was good when I was caring for him because it was a diversion for me but now it is making me far too isolated in my home. I applied for a little office job outside the home and I actually had an interview last Friday. It is only 15 hours a week but it really would be good for me. If I do not get it, I am going to find something to volunteer for as I need to be with people more. The senior center near my home does not appeal to me and after taking my husband there for over a year every day, I realized it just has negative memories for me. i am beginning to think this business of reinventing oneself is trial and error. Last year I went on a bus trip to see a play and decided I would not do that again unless I have someone to go with. All the women were alone and it just reinforced the fact that I am alone. The bottom line is I need to build a life of my own and have no idea how to do that. I try to exercise ever day. That seems to help me even if it is just a walk. This morning I walked in the rain and felt good when I got home. So all you out there grieving, we will get through it one day at s time.
Last night I put away all my autumn/Harvest/Thanksgiving things, and started decorating for Christmas. (Can't do it all, because the house is still not put together after the painting.) I put up my Nativity set, and went out and bought some beautiful red poinsettias, also got out my red dishtowels and a couple of Christmas knickknacks. It's surprising how good it makes me feel. Definitely a mood-lifter. Red is a good color.
It's like, "Well, Lar's not here and I want to go home...but for the moment, I'm going to try for a little happiness. I Refuse To Be Miserable All The Time!" So, there.
Is anyone else feeling the pain of Christmas without your spouse? How are you dealing with it?
I have been racing around shopping till I drop, , planning the food for the family at my house Christmas Eve and busying myself till I suddenly stopped dead in my tracks. I think I have been trying to create a happy Holiday since I felt the last three were so difficult. Last year, I spent Christmas visiting Bob in the Geri-psych unit.
But, I am realizing it isn't working. I am now sitting in my comfy chair looking at the miniature tree( I couldn't do a large one) and missing Bob. Tears. Now, I wish I could just cancel the whole holiday and fast forward to January.
Lorrie, You are not alone ... will be spending time with our daughter and grandson over the holidays ... and thinking of Christmases past with my husband. The holidays are just something to get through this year. Wishing, with you, that we can start anew in the new year. Understanding how you feel ...
This will be my first Christmas with Marge not here physically, but she has been absent mentally for the past several years. This year I will have all 3 of my kids and families here for the first time in several years. Plus, my new "lady friend". To add to the excitement, Terri and I will be getting married on Dec. 29. She is also widowed and lives in a cottage in the same retirement community I am in. When Marge died I planned to spend my remaining days in my apartment reading and watching TV. But, as they say, if you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans.
Elizabeth, I'm moving into her cottage and giving up my apartment. This will save me over $3,000 a month which we can use for travel. Gourdchipper, she is already keeping me busy - exercise, in chorus of Gilbert and Sullivan, several trips planned over the next few months.
Well, that sounds good, marsh. Keep us updated. Wow, the 29th...less than a week. Too bad we can't post pictures here, but do give us a verbal description of what the bride and groom wore and so forth. Inquiring (nosy) minds want to know!
I got my tree up tonight, and I'm holding together fairly well. I can tell I'm a little emotional, but not nearly as bad as last year. I'm really enjoying my holiday decorations, and the baking was fun...although I ate way too much of what I baked...will have to set firm limits if I do it again next year. I love the holiday music, both playing it and listening to it. But the tree...that seems to be my bereavement Achilles heel. Too much nostalgia attached to it...I just keep thinking about all those Christmases past...my parents, grandmothers, aunts and uncles, my brothers...and of course, all those Christmases and Christmas trees with Larry. All gone with the wind. Normally I am pretty good about looking forwards, not back. But if my Christmas tree is just going to be a trigger for sadness...and I Am fighting it tooth and nail...but still...maybe I should think "Medieval Christmas" or something...have a pretty, decorated house and lots of fa-la-la's but not have the tree next year. Well, we'll see.
Elizabeth..the tree and ornaments were just too difficult for me to handle emotionally. I opted for a live tabletop Tree. It came with lights and a few decorations. Next year, maybe I will be able to open the box of ornaments.
Expecting 16 for Christmas Eve... All kids and grandkids . Trying to make it festive. All I want for Christmas is my Bob back( the guy before AD struck).
Got up this morning and put a few more ornaments on the tree. It is a pretty thing, but I honestly think it would have been better if I had not put up a tree...there's no question that it has raised too many emotions. I like a tree, but maybe I should have done what Lorrie did, and put up something different from the usual...that did not evoke all the feelings. I tried to counteract it by making a couple phone calls to old friends--one a short, merry conversation...the other I left a short, cheery voice mail. Now I'm eating an egg and running out to pick up a couple things at the grocery before it gets crazy over there. I refuse...flatly refuse...to be miserable today.
Still hanging in. Cruising the Net, watched a Stargate episode on Amazon Prime, reading my book, had snacks with DD and ex s-i-l this afternoon. They want me to come over in the morning for presents-opening with the kids and all that. Everyone on their best behavior. My house looks nice--I have all the Christmas lights on and the TV on with Christmas Eve in the Holy Land on. Ate a healthy supper, took a nice walk earlier. Feel very fragile and brittle, but am coping...not exactly unhappy, but I don't dare examine my feelings too closely or let myself think about Larry, although I keep getting lots of flashbacks to our nice holidays when he...and many other relatives...were still alive. Creepy feeling opening the address book--it's full of dead people. Well, I'm still alive and I'm still here. Onward!
Interesting thing, Elizabeth, about the flashbacks. I didn't think they really happened, except in movies, until I was on the verge of selling the house where I'd lived since our first baby was born 29 years earlier. I had cleaned it all out, and was doing a last minute detail walk-through...and exactly that happened. Flashbacks around every corner.
Anyway, Christmas is not so bad...I'm with a love, we're building a new house. But I note, in all fairness and honesty--we do often mark our lives by these holiday seasons, and it has been a mixed bag of gratitude and melancholy. My old life--the kids growing up, Jeff being present and healthy--I cannot help but deeply feel the loss of it.
One of the realities that I believe may be obscured in our lives afterwards is that many people have not-great experiences with getting older. Just retiring has been enough to bowl people over and leave them feeling lost the rest of their lives. And getting twice the husband on half the income isn't always a wanted change even if we've been home the whole time running the household and bringing up the kids. Empty nest has made most of the women I know well cry all by itself. Walk past the room they grew up in and start tearing up. Parenthood in my personal opinion is one of the most intense occupations.
My old address book is completely written by Dianne. Many of the people in that book are dead and our groups are just turning 65 so the next decade and two are going to be fun. People are terrified of this but I don't want to be the last person standing where everybody else I knew and cared about is gone. And if it's me that checks out early, I won't need to look at the address book anymore.
There's a hard reality about all this that has zero to do with what happened to us. We may just become crabby and mean where little can bring a smile to our face because we won't let it. Nothing to do with dementia or caregiving.
We have to open up and come to something. That's hard but it's the only way to become engaged in a life again in my opinion.
I agree Wolf, that much of what impacts our attitudes in mid-life and onward has to do with the unavoidable truths about mortality and health. Very few of us are going to reach the end of our roads and drop dead without having experienced physical difficulties and loss. And those issues are very much an element in my overall mood this season! The unblemished optimism of youth is really no longer an option, but we do have the option of sifting through what moods come to us, and choosing which to feed and nurture the most. That's how I'm trying to do it anyway.
Very wise comments, Wolf and Emily. I am trying to do exactly what you both said...open up and find new life and new purpose, since marriage is gone and family life is not very satisfying. And also to monitor my moods and try to feed and nurture the happier moods and also the things in life that make the moods happier. Above and beyond the Alzheimer care issues, I don't think I was really ready to leave my nursing career and be catapulted into young "old age" so precipitously. The focus was much more on Larry and his issues. My Medicare started 9/1/14, and he died 9/2/14. I had always felt very young for my age (in part because he was so much older than I), and all of a sudden not only was Larry gone, but Holy Moly Batman...how did I become old enough to be on Medicare? I always thought I would like being older, and that I would be a very successful senior citizen. Well...I'm not so sure about that anymore. Losing so many people...mostly Larry...losing my house, my job...just walking around the mall and seeing a cute guy...and he looks right through me like I'm not even there... and realizing he's young enough to be my son...is just weird. I am just starting to be able to come to terms with it. Sometimes older guys look at me like they're checking me out...which is nice, and a real relief. Maybe I'm still a human being. But anyway, I'm getting more focused all the time about how to move forward and live a happy, positive, creative life. So it's percolating.
Going into the New Year, which will be my second full year without Larry, I just want to thank everyone for the help and support I've received on this Alzheimer spouse/Alzheimer widow journey. The wise counsel and virtual hugs and handholding have been invaluable as I've struggled to recover physically and emotionally and to find clarity and new reasons to want to move forward. The portents are promising: I think I'm regaining a lot of my former pizazz. I wore red for the first time last week--a sparkly, bright red Christmas sweater. It felt good. And I find myself embracing happiness more--really looking forward to things when I get up in the morning...not just trying to make a day for myself because I'm "supposed to". I'm getting a lot more enjoyment out of reading, writing, making music, and spiffing up the house.(And myself.) I'm coming to terms with having to set big boundaries against my family...and I'm trying to figure out ways to meet new people and have a social life in an authentic way...although I think the singles group is a nice bunch, it wasn't the best fit for me. I'm going to try a local writers' group that meets monthly, and I think I'll try golf lessons in the spring, just to see. There are two golf courses in the park...I can walk over--don't even need to take my car out. It seems like a good opportunity to try it, anyway. I'm going to sit down with the old 2015 checkbook register and really do a big financial piece about what it costs me to live here, and what it will cost me in various scenarios in NY. I would be going from a very low cost of living area to a very high cost of living area, and the numbers have to make sense. Just for fun, I am going to research motorhomes, in case I really get crazy and decide to pick up a Class C and live in it. (Hey, you never know.) So with cautious optimism, I'm looking forward with a faint smile to the New Year. I never could have got to this point without this forum.
Elizabeth, maybe Frand (AD widow) can help you with the motorhome Idea. She lives in one year-round and travels all over the country. I have her e-mail address if you want to contact me.
Thanks, Marsh. I'm really not serious about it, (couldn't put a big piano in an MH) but Charlotte's lifestyle has always intrigued me, and now that my cousin and her husband are doing the same thing, I have a yen to go to the big, local RV show next week and just look around. It's like going to realtors' open houses on Sunday afternoons when you have no intention of buying, but just want to take a look to see how the other half lives. : D
Well, never say never. I found a good web site called technomadia.com (Like tech nomads). They had a fantastic hour and a half video about what it's really like living permanently in an RV. There was a link on their site to an article by a couple that didn't like it, and went back to a sticks & bricks home. The tech nomads still have to earn an income, but I could really see it working for retired folks with permanent fixed incomes coming in. But there are definite pros and cons, and it certainly wouldn't be for everyone. I travelled so much as a military wife in the 70s and 80s--much of it camping our way from base to base--that I've lost my taste for traveling as a lifestyle. (Been there, done that...hauling two kids.) At this point in my life, there are certain places I definitely like to go--Canada, Ireland, New York--but as I've done over the past year or so--I would fly or drive, do or see what I want--and then come back.
Cons for me: Can't fit piano. Can't climate-control well-enough for harp. Can't fit books. No bathtub for soaking. No one to help me with maintenance, hook-ups, dumping tanks, etc. Potential for safety and security issues. Pay a lot of money for a depreciating asset. Inconvenient for pets.
Elizabeth, you mentioned several “cons” related to full time RVing, but how about the “pros” -- wonderful adventures potentially awaiting you over the next hill, meeting and interacting with new and interesting campground neighbors from faraway places, up close encounters with nature and scenery and wildlife unimaginable in any other way, the freedom to change direction or locations on a whim etc. The suggestion of trying out the RV lifestyle by renting is a good one, although I’m not sure of the practicality of your doing it alone. While we never tried full timing, we did sometimes spend two or three months at a time on the road in our RV after I retired, and loved it. (And also loved returning home after the wanderlust had subsided.) We actually got into camping in 1968 when my wife read in one of her women’s magazines about a family that had flown to California and rented a camper for a few weeks. Finding all the rental units already booked, we ended up buying a slide-in camper here in Florida and driving it to California and back, with plans to sell it after we got home. Long story short – we enjoyed the experience so much that we didn’t sell it and have owned a succession of larger and larger RVs ever since.
Oh, of course there are lots of pros. I was just playing devil's advocate a little bit and just addressing what would be the personal disadvantages for myself. It certainly wasn't a balanced picture...nor was it meant to be.
And a person needs to consider what kind of RV they would buy: Class A, B, or C, new or used, for temperate weather only, or should it be winterized...or should they get a travel trailer to pull behind a vehicle they already have...and how big...and are they going full or part-time...boondocking or RV parks. I am just having so much fun being an armchair traveler reading about RVs. Never really gave it any thought until reading all Charlotte's interesting posts...and then talking to my cousin about their experiences. (A small travel trailer...sold for a big travel trailer...sold for the Coachman Leprechaun 32 footer with two slide-outs...great trips back and forth from Ohio to Arizona and New Mexico--they now intend to do it full-time.) Wahoo!
If it's not one of those it's furniture and if I had forever, I would contemplate all this; but, I happen to know that it's not just the front end where we go through massive physical change - and this time I'm not growing up.
If I had been born in any of the other 99.8% of history I wouldn't likely be here facing the searingly onerous task of entertaining myself for a while before I get to a point in my life even I can see I can't do it anymore and have to check myself into a nursing home.
"I don't want to hear that!" my friend shouted into the phone. So I changed the subject so my friend wouldn't have to pee herself in her fear of what life is. She will soon be in her fourth year widowed and still sits at the scene of the crash wondering why things happen.
I will soon be entering my second year widowered (see? even the language doesn't give a sh*t) and I'm not going to buy a red sports car or put on a red dress or wave a red flag. It wasn't just Dianne's story that was being written - it was mine.
Me. How would I describe me? A little boy holding his wiennie scared to death. Always have been. Always will be I expect. In my travels adults have often been shocked by how I see my own weaknesses. As though words and needs change truth. They don't and instead are the chinese walls we get lost in. I'm important. Nobody's 'important'.
What I am is me here now and just like when I was five and went to school and was nineteen and went into marriage, and was twenty four and went into a corporation and was sixty five and went into retirement - I'm still scared of what will happen and I still don't know what I'm doing because that's how it really is and it isn't any other way.
People don't understand me which is something I've heard all my life. Well, I'm not in doubt that when I scratch the surfaces I always find that same truth. Underneath the veneer that I am this and I own that and I went here and I look like this - everybody's scared because nobody really knows what they're doing or what will happen except that we will all too soon die.
People become star atheletes and can't miss and then they go through a slump even though they're working harder and are clueless as to why. People become star entertainers and can't do anything wrong and ride on an insane wave of popularity, and then they're still doing what they do but it isn't working anymore and they are clueless as to why. People make an honest effort and nothing seems to work out while they watch someone else do less than they do but always seem to be in the right place or the right time to catch a wave. We love to explain but we don't honestly know why. If there was a why clever people would have discovered it and stay on the wave.
I learn now to live my life as well or as poorly as I'll have ended up doing when I look back afterwards. I will spend the time. How is an open question. What is not in question is that among eight billion souls on this rock, there is only one who has the power to create that story.
Grief: "That doesn't make me happy" Wolf: "Shut up" Grief: "I want to be happy" Wolf: "So be happy" Grief: "I want to go home" Wolf: "So go home"
[and he finally did the poor snivelling little piece of flotsom which would have been Wolf feeling sorry for himself but I never played and it never mattered that I didn't]
More me, more here, more now, more forward. When I look back on this period I will always be satisfied that I gave everything for her and then I gave everything for me. I'm not interested in my feelings. My feelings are sh*t and would be regardless. I'm interested in my soul and my spirit. That path is understanding, accepting, and changing.
I define the word irreverent. I don't disrespect which is a boring displacement of low self worth in any regard. I'm just not buying baloney. Dianne died a year ago and this is my life now. I'm out of stuff to turn over. I feel a lot less bad these days where I've pretty much spent the entire year thinking about everything. It's what I do.
When the lady at the recent party commented that my wife had died so young I answered that that was her time. I believe that. We came out here to have some fun as we got old and even though it's just me, I still believe that too. I believe caregiving and grief are things to be gotten over. I believe that's very hard and that it centers around us changing inside to adjust. It was Emily who gave me the key. Self authorization. Real and genuine self authorization which we ourselves believe. I had to work for that.
It wasn't where the battlefield was though. The battlefield was my own conceptions of what was what, what meant what, and what I was in all that. They hurt me personally became Alzheimer's is beyond human scope just as leprosy was once. Help myself over that hurt by working my way through it. Alzheimer's hurt everybody but it hurt me the most. I'm still here hurt by it with all my faculties and senses long after everybody else left. I'm still too anxious and frankly am still battling that and that's alzheimers without a doubt.
I wonder sometimes if I'm ever going to feel happy overall again. I like setting the bar low though so that I can rejoice in my victories. I was looking for not feeling completely creeped out about my life. Now I'm going for not bad. "How are you doing?" "Not bad." I don't want to over extend.
All too soon the real battles will start. These are the limits of what I am normally. More change means achieving previously unachieved growth. I'm bored because I'm boring. That's when my terribly helpful know-it-all voice chimes in "try something new or sit in your stew it's up to you" and so forth.
It all reminds me of a joke I saw on The Monkeys, a 1960's sit-com sort of where they're dressed like british african lion safari guys and say this:
"I was down in africa recently teaching the natives how to play cards." "Oh? Zulu's?" "No, I usually won actually."
"Changing inside to adjust." "Self-authorization." "Alzheimers is beyond human scope just as leprosy was once." Yes. Just yes.
"...achieving previously unachieved growth." Yes, indeed. That's what I'm trying to do, too, if I can just get past the Alzheimers damage, the bereavement process, the grief process. (And for me personally, get my relatives out of my hair. But I would only share that thought on this forum--good thing it's confidential, as Mim says once in a while.)
The wheels are turning slowly, but they're turning. There is definitely new life after Alzheimers caregiving, but it is different--like you've traveled through a wormhole in outer space and now you're on a new planet. It is often fun and pleasant--sometimes a little scary and tentative--but always interesting.
My terribly helpful know-it-all voice had an answer for this. I was thinking I've said some pretty personal things here and what if someone comes and reads this?
[terribly helpful know-it-all voice]
Right. They run away screaming from alzheimers but they come here to look. Not so much.
Well, other than some cheerful, red poinsettias here and there, the decorations are all stowed away neatly, and the Christmas season is concluded. The house looks a little bare, as after the painting was done, I decorated for the holidays, but did not hang any of the pictures back up. So everything is fresh and clean-looking, but needs a few touches. Who knew white walls could look so good? I don't know if anyone is going outside and looking for the winter constellations, but here in Ohio the "mighty hunter" Orion is up in the south, and is surrounded by the "Winter Circle" of stars. Orion's right shoulder is the red star Betelguese, and his left knee is the blue star Rigel. The constellation is surrounded by the stars Sirius, Procyon, Castor and Pollux, Capella, and Aldebaran. Very pretty and sparkly on a clear night. The website earthsky.org will keep you up to speed on what is going on in the night sky.
I've started the new regimen of watching the kids at their house instead of here at mine, and I'm enjoying life much more. And I'm outta there like a bat as soon as DD gets home from work. I'm still tied up two or three hours a day, but at least they're not trashing my place, watching wall-to-wall cartoons, and eating me out of house and home. One thing that is surprising about the new me is that I'm not nearly as interested in being as involved with my grandchildren as I thought I'd be. I love them and all that, but I have a life. Or I'm trying to have one.
I still think about Larry almost constantly, and miss him so much. I miss the life we had together--the familiar, cosy routines of just living everyday life together. Nothing earthshaking--just normal stuff. One thing that is helping me is that the house looks a little different after the painting. I am not going to put up the same pictures in the same places...I'm going to mix it up and change it up a little. I still want it to look like "home" , but with a few twists of my own. I thought the Christmas lights on the headboard were really cheery--they're down now, of course...but I'm trying to think of things like that...that are different from the way Larry and I had the house. I guess I'm trying to build some new memories, and not just always be looking at all the same old stuff that reminds me of him and makes me sad and nostalgic. But I will say that I've put my wedding rings back on, and I'm more comfortable wearing them. I can't analyze it too closely, and I know I'm not married...I'm not opposed to meeting new people (not that I know anybody)...but I just like wearing my rings.
Kind of frivolous, but I have some new make up and perfume that I enjoy. What the hey...it's all good. So we've gotten through 12th Night and Epiphany...Onward!
I, too, felt the need to "mix it up and change it" I redecorated my family room .. Where we spent most nights watching tv and relaxing by the fireplace together. I needed it to look different. There are pictures and mementos of my husband still all around. I am finding , little by little, that I can smile at a good memory rather than cry.
The nights and bedtime are the hardest. In bed, the yearning to hear Bob's breathing, see his face on the pillow and touch his hand or feel his feet next to mine continues. One thing that helps is the practice of gratitude. I think how lucky I was to experience his love and our life together. Then, I try to think of each thing I am grateful for that day. I am trying so hard to have joy be present amidst sadness.
Elizabeth, you are one of the few people here who echo my feelings regarding my grandchildren. I too am no longer as interested in being involved with my grandchildren. I love them so much but want my own life. I babysit if I can when asked but again working on developing a life of my own. I have noticed that when he was here we were sort of the center of the family and now I am just part of it, so the family dynamics have changed. I have not changed too much but thinking about getting the place painted. I am into organizing and cleaning out stuff I do not want or need.
As well as I try to do, grief comes back to kick me. Just listened to a beautiful song and the tears and sick feeling in the pit of my stomach returned.
Now, I've lost my motivation to do anything today.
I know, this too shall pass. Until them, I'm just sitting in my comfy chair .
I've just been moping around and am not much of a role model for being a good little recovering Alzheimer spouse. Don't wanna walk, don't wanna do my push-ups, don't wanna tune my harp. Whine, whine, whine, while drinking cup of tea number 2,041 and eating peanut butter off a spoon. I can't for the life of me figure out how to re-hang the pictures so the house will look fresh and different. The problem is that they looked best where we had them. I may just bite the bullet and put them for the most part back where they were. I'm definitely only going to hang one painting of the Edmund Fitzgerald, and not both of them. Good Lord, talk about Freudian. (The iron ore boat sank, and so did my husband. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I get it. But why did I think I had to plaster it all over my walls?") Anyway, I think I'm going to get a big print of "EarthRise Over the Moon", and have it nicely framed locally, so I can choose the mat and frame to really look sharp...and then put that over the living room sofa instead of the doomed lake freighter. I'm thinking it will give a fresh, modern feeling of hopefulness and forward motion to the house. I always liked those Earthrise pictures. It has to be classy, though--not like something I'd put up with push pins in a college dorm or teen's room.
The youtube link Margaret posted is a really pretty song. Definitely one to bring tears to the eyes. Enya is so evocative no matter what she sings.