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Archive for the ‘spiritual teachers’ Category

I wrote these words during the early weeks after my mother moved in with us. It captures the concern, guilt, and trepidation we all felt on this new venture.

 

I didn’t feel I had a choice–about insisting my mother move in with my family and me. My mother’s Parkinson’s and early signs of dementia had grown to the point that I didn’t feel she was safe living alone, or that her care was something I could continue to farm out to paid care, extended family, church members and neighbors. She needed consistency. She needed me.

 

 

But it wasn’t easy on either of us.

 

 

Here’s an excerpt from my journals, and what later would become my book, Mothering Mother.

 

 

“I think Mother would just like to sit down and cry. She can’t figure out the layout of the house and says she doesn’t want to sleep downstairs. I explain that there isn’t a downstairs, but her apartment is on the opposite end of the house from my bedroom. It’s so far away that she must feel like it’s on a separate floor. She keeps saying she wants to sleep next to me. Not in the next room, but next to me. She walks around touching the walls as if they could collapse on her if she were to let her hands down. She sits in my dining room chair with nothing to do. I’ve made her breakfast, given her the paper and told her I need to unpack the kitchen, which she can see me do from where she’s sitting.

I feel as if I’ve taken everything from her, which she enjoys announcing to everyone, from the bank teller to the podiatrist. She makes sure to note that she’s selling her house, moving in with us, and giving up everything—her church, her friends, and her home. I stand beside her as she regales them with her sob story, wishing I could add what I am giving up—my freedom, my privacy, my mind, and that I’m not doing this to hurt her. I’m trying to help. Instead, I smile and pat her hand, hoping she’s receiving the sympathy and attention I can’t give.”

It took some time for all of us to get used to living together. I still had two teenage daughters at home. Along with “mother issues,” I had to contend with boyfriends, curfews, teen drivers, and the ever threatening emotional outburst from any of them–at any time. Mother was usually the first to blow.

 

“Mother, I want you, we all want you. Relax. You’re here now, and we’re all at home. This is our home. Please give us time to adjust.” I think of my own mother angst. I spent the first half of my life trying to get away from her and the second half trying to get back.

The cat walks by and rubs against her leg. I don’t know why that cat insists on cuddling up to the only person in the house who would like to throw it across the river. Mother pushes it away with her foot, gentler this time because she knows I’m watching. She looks disgusted. I try not to laugh.

“Go on now, scat!”

Great. Now I have to play referee between her, the kids and the pets.

 

 

 

 

For me, being an adult, a daughter, a wife, and a mother at the same time was challenging to say the least.

 

“We’re having to figure out how to stand next to one another in the kitchen, how to maneuver past each other in the hall, not just physically but even in our thoughts. No one fits every groove of our psyche, habits, or beliefs, and those knots and bumps rub us raw before we develop calluses. As hard as this is, I’m not in a hurry to get to the dying part. I want to face each day and glean whatever sweetness there may be, to truly be here, open my eyes wide and learn to stand next to her, neither one of us shoved to the side, each with a decent amount of space.”

 

 

 

 

I think women are particularly vulnerable into morphing into whatever and whoever someone needs them to be–to the point of losing a piece of themselves. We are the ultimate super-hero, we lose our identities in order to care for others.

 

 

Caregiving takes it even one step further. Your loved needs more. You are their protector, their provider. You are their lifeline.

 

My mother’s apartment was next to my kitchen and laundry room and was the parallel opposite to my bedroom.

 

I can remember evenings of helping my mother change into her gown, giving her the last of her medication, tucking her into bed, kissing her goodnight…and then walking through the kitchen and feeling myself “stripping” that caregiving/daughterly clothes and having to change into the next person I was to be–to help a daughter study for her SAT’s, or become a wife, my husband’s lover. All within moments…a new identity.

 

 

How do you keep your head and heart intact?

 

  • Believe you can do this. You were meant to do this–wife, mother, daughter, friend, co-worker. You have lots of experience already. Life never comes to us orderly. You have to be able to unload the dishwasher, talk to your best friend, pack your kid’s lunch, kiss your hubby goodbye for the day, and hand your mother a bowl of oatmeal–oh, and don’t forget to feed the cat.

 

  • Having your mother move in with you–or you with her–isn’t the worst thing in the world. Not having a mother is far worse. Yes, you’ll have a few squabbles, at least I hope you will. Your mother will teach your more about yourself than ten shrinks ever will.
  • Becoming your parent’s parent is the hardest, fastest, best way to really grow up. Whatever residual crap you had left over about your childhood (or adulthood) issues, you will finally either forgive or give up. It just gets too hard to stay angry and do everything else you’ve got to do.
  • Put yourself in your mother’s place. One day, you will–so take a moment to consider how vulnerable they feel. Their bossiness, negativeness, or fussiness is just a cover up. It helps to remember that it’s much easier to be the one in charge than the one in need.
  • Speak up. Set boundaries. Don’t give anyone–your kids, your husband, or your mother all your time and energy. Save some for you. Be alone every day–for ten minutes. I don’t care if you have to lock yourself in the closet, go to the mailbox and stand by it for ten minutes pretending to read the mail–be alone. Take long baths. Drink your coffee on the back porch. You do not have to be at anyone’s beck and call every second of the day. It’s not good for you. It’s not good for them.
  • If you don’t pray or meditate–start. You’ll need it. Find your center of strength. Ask for help, guidance, and wisdom.
  • You might not like it, but you’re probably a lot like your mother. The quicker you learn how to love her, the quicker you’ll love you.
  • Don’t let every little comment get to you. So what if she thinks you’re a slob, wear your shorts too short and can’t cook. There’s no better way to get over what people think of you than to practicce with your own relatives. Smile and be content with being just who, and just how you are.
  • Our minds, bodies and spirits are meant to love a lot of people. You can do it. You can find the patience and perserverance to do this. You will surprise yourself with how much you can love.
  • Caregiving is stressful, I won’t try to water it down in the least. You will have to be on your game almost all of the time. You will lose your cool, cry, curse, and at times, fall apart. But you are resilient. You will rebound.
  • This won’t last forever. I promise. It won’t. Parents die and kids grow up. My mother’s gone now–and what seemed like an eternity is now a memory. And I miss her.
  • Being a part of a family and caring for someone intimately is a priviledge. It’s messy, heartbreaking, hair tearing, and scary–but the alternative is orderly loneliness.

When it’s over, let go.

You will most likely grieve, feel secretly relieved, guilty, resentful, and scared all the way through and especially after it’s over. But this will pass. Your parent will become a part of you–in a cosmic, spiritual, and even on a biological level.

It will then be time to recreate who you are again.

Trust that all you need to know you already know.

You will find your way.

 

 

~Carol O’Dell

Family Advisor at Caring.com

Mothering Mother is available at Amazon

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People are about as happy as they make up their minds to be. ~Abraham Lincoln

I find it pretty amazing that this quote is attributed to Abraham Lincoln.

He didn’t exactly have a cushy life.

His mother died when he was nine, and although his family could barely survive, young Lincoln gave up hunting after watching a turkey suffer after he shot the bird(the bird thing is a side note, but I found it interesting).

He didn’t just become president over night–he was a lawyer, then tried for congress (twice) but was defeated by Stephen Douglas–over the issue of abolition.

He married Mary Todd, and three of their four children would die before adulthood. This left Mary, who already suffered with depression, even more mentally unstable. As Abraham Lincoln’s life began to evolve more and more around politics, his marriage suffered.

President Lincoln was under great stress to try to hold our country together in perhaps its most challenging time. He did so, but with great personal sacrifice. He was assasinated when he as only 56 years old.

According to today’s standards of what qualifies as a “good life,” Abraham Lincoln’s journey would not be considered an easy one–then or now.

(Other great quotes by Lincoln )

And yet, we all owe him a great debt. He held America together and changed the course of  history. His words and example still inspire us today.

He doesn’t exactly seem like a person who would focus much on the meaning of happiness–but who better than someone who knew, but did not give into sadness/

Happiness is a lot about choice. It’s a state of mind and way of looking at things. It doesn’t change the facts. If your mom has Alzheimer’s, if your dad fell and broke his hip, that’s a fact–but how you deal with it–that’s up to you.

There were many times in Mr. Lincoln’s  life when I’m sure he had to choose to simply go on, breathe in and out, and keep on doing the task at hand.  Sometimes happy isn’t about being happy, but choosing not to be unhappy (aka miserable).  Caregivers know this well.

According to the Princeton online dictionary, happiness  means:

  • state of well-being characterized by emotions ranging from contentment to intense joy
  • emotions experienced when in a state of well-being

Where did the word  “happy” come from?

It dates back to 1340, from the waord, “hap,” which was connected to chance or fortune.

(From  Etymology.com)
1340, “lucky,” from hap “chance, fortune” (see haphazard), sense of “very glad” first recorded c.1390. Ousted O.E. eadig (from ead “wealth, riches”) and gesælig, which has become silly. O.E. bliðe “happy” survives as blithe. From Gk. to Ir., a great majority of the European words for “happy” at first meant “lucky.” An exception is Welsh, where the word used first meant “wise.” Used in World War II and after as a suffix (e.g. bomb-happy, flak-happy) expressing “dazed or frazzled from stress.” Happiness is first recorded 1530. Happy hour“early evening period of discount drinks and free hors-d’oeuvres at a bar” is first recorded 1961. Happy-go-lucky is from 1672. Happy as a clam (1636) was originally happy as a clam in the mud at high tide, when it can’t be dug up and eaten.

How does it relate to caregiving?

Much of caregiving doesn’t fall under the category of “happy.” While parts might be necessary, needed, serve a purpose, and at times, appreciated–as a caregiver  I found that I had to fight or choose to be happy. Let me tell you, I know how it feels to push that rock up hill. There were some days when a Volkswagen Bug full of 50 clowns wouldn’t have gotten my mother to crack a smile! Caregiving taught me how little I could control, and writing Mothering Mother helped me to reflect on my journey.

I had to look for the good, the funny, the crazy and ironic. I had to let go, give up, give in, and simply trust. So much was so way beyond anything I could have prepared for that it was in away, left up to luck, to chance–to hope. And maybe that’s where the happy part comes in. When you can’t control it, you might as well choose to see the good, any good that comes your way.

The smallest of good/happy moments could make my day–a cardinal dipping past my window–I love how they fly–dip, dip, dip–their bright wings in defiance of a winter morning.

Bottom line, if Abe Lincoln can choose to be happy, then so can I.

Happy for no reason. Let luck and chance blow in like a surprising summer rain. Trust that it’s all meant for the good.

Right now, with all the economic challenges we face individually and collectively, I feel like I don’t have a choice–either crawl in the bed and pull up the covers (indefinitely), or keep an eye out for bright red birds and all the amazing small wonders that surround us.

Carol D. O’Dell

Author of Mothering Mother, available on Kindle

Family Advisor at Caring.com

www.caroldodell.com

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Alzheimer’s is a tough diagnosis.

Many people hear the word and instantly get an image of their loved one completely uncontrollable–who no longer knows who they are.

It’s worse than any horror movie.

Recently, at a caregiver’s conference I started my talk about my caregiving journey–and that my mom had Alzheimer’s. A woman jumped up out of her seat, let out a cry, and ran out of the room. The director followed her out the door.

Later, the director shared that the woman’s mom had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, and this was the first event she had attended. This was the first time she was admitting to herself that her mother had Alzheimer’s.

Why is it so scary?

Because Alzheimer’s, like cancer has a ripple effect.

We’re afraid of what the end will be like.

We’re afraid our loved ones will suffer. We’re afraid of how bad it’ll get.

We’re afraid it might be in our genes, too.

Afraid, afraid, afraid.

People are afraid they’ll get Alzheimer’s, and then if they do get it, they’re afraid of what the end will be like. That’s a lot of fear. I don’t know about you, but if I’m going to be mauled to death by a bear, then bring it on–cause worrying about it for two decades will kill me with an ulcer before I ever see a bear!

Getting that dreaded diagnosis means your life as you know it is over.

Really?

Is it all or nothing?

Does your brain, your personality, your purpose and dreams all fall out of your head the second the doctor utters this terrible word?

NO.

You (or your loved one) have probably been living with Alzheimer’s/dementia for awhile.

Life’s been pretty good, right? Sure–some slippage–some “what’s that called, what’s his name”  moments–but hasn’t there also been some quality of life?  

Does it mean as a caregiver that you will never see your friends, go on vacation, or make love–ever again?

No, it doesn’t!

Yes, it’s scary to say the word.

It’s scary to know that “it’s” in there. Lurking.

But you do have time.

You do still have a life and people you love. Nothing has really changed since yesterday.

I’m not saying it’s a picnic, my mother had Alzheimer’s and lived with us the last almost three years of her life, so I’ve seen this disease up close. But now that there’s such an awareness of Alzheimer’s, there’s earlier diagnosis–which means people are getting treated earlier.

Drugs such as Aricept, Exelon, Cognex, and Razadyne work well on many people who are in the early stages of Alzheimer’s. You can take your meds, and still enjoy so much of life.

What can you do if you or your loved has Alzheimer’s?

(It depends on age, stage, and other existing illnesses)

Get up tomorrow morning and have the same breakfast you had today.

Watch The Price is Right or go to the store. Keep on living your life.

Yes, you can take a trip. Go to Greece. Go to Rome. Do those things you’ve always dreamed of–but also know that your ordinary every day life has value.

Don’t feel lke you can’t go with a friend, your spouse and take a tour. You can. Take your meds, don’t over do it, but go!  So what if you forget the busboy’s name on the cruise ship. So what if you and your wife walk everywhere together hand in hand.

Just remember that having coffee on your back porch while reading the morning paper is pretty darn great too.

Get together with friends. Talk about your diasnosis. Get it on out there. Let them ask questions.

Let’s educate our loved ones. Let’s get over the stigma. Let’s show them that life indeed does go on. Enjoy dinner, enjoy eating out–crack a joke and watch everybody bristle as to whether to laugh or not.

Go for a walk. Your legs aren’t broke, you know. You don’t have to become a couch potato. If your finger can flip channels, it can surf the ‘net. Raise money for Alzheimer’s research or blog and share your journey with others. That’s what Terry Prachett is doing. He’s a well-known writer who has Alzheimer’s and he’s donating monies and bring awareness to this disease. You might as well use it to do some good in the world.

There are no guarantees for anyone–so why not have the best Christmas ever? Get that toy train you’ve always wanted. Take that family portrait with the kids, grand kids and great grand kids. Wear a Santa suit and pass out presents.

This is the time to video or audio record your life, your memories, your songs and stories.

Life is precious. Memories are to be passed on and held dear. So find the time when you are rested and clear headed to go ahead and yack and yack and tell all the stories you can think of–about you, your career, your adventures, your sorrows and your victories.

What if you’re forgetting more than you’re remembering these days?

Then spend this tender time with those you love. Tell them you love them–now.

Ask them to remember for you. Create a system of post-it notes, alarm clocks, and every memory helper gadget you can find. But more importantly, sit with your sweety, play with your dog–and just be present.

What if the diagnosis of Alzheimer’s comes after there’s much memory loss?

Then know as a caregiver that while your loved one may at times feel agitated and scared–Alzheimer’s is not physically painful. There is some pain at the end of life (but that’s related to the shutting down or bodily systems). The hardest part regarding pain is that late stage Alzheimer’s patients can suffer pain from another ailment and not be able to communicate it (such as a bladder infection, toothache, heart condition, etc).

Yes, Alzheimer’s is confusing (and that falls under emotional pain), I”m not belittling the ramifications of this disease and its impact on families in any way.

What can I do as a caregiver/loved one to help?

  • Be patient
  • Don’t get overly emotional–that’s scares them
  • Stay in charge–that makes them feel safe
  • Keep them safe
  • Take care of yourself, pace yourself–this could be along haul
  • Let them talk about deceased loved ones/careers/the war–and enjoy listening
  • Don’t get caught up in the million question game
  • Don’t take their outbursts seriously
  • Do what’s right and don’t let them manipulate you
  • Provide what they like as much as possible (likes will eventually fade)-food, music, art, sports
  • Introduce yourself and who you are–daughter, nurse, etc. every time you see them (If they’re forgetting who people are)
  • Don’t be offended when they forget who you are to them–even if you’re their wife of 50 years
  • Don’t take it personal if another person, animal, or inanimate object seems to make them happier than you do–it’s just this wacky disease
  • Know that they love you even when they can’t verbalize it
  • Remember for them. Write their stories, sing their songs, play the music they loved when they were dating
  • Keep a watchful eye on them in the hospital and care facilities–no one will pay attention and catch mistakes more than a loved one
  • When the end comes, give them your verbal permission to let go
  • Stay up beat. They need you more than ever

Don’t get me wrong–I’m all for falling apart, so you’ll need to fall apart every now and then.

But fall apart in the closet, in the shower, in the car. Scream, cry, beat the steering wheel. This is a mean son of…, and you have every right to be angry at this disease. That’s important.

Then go on. Occupy your thoughts with a song, a new recipe, the color you’ll paint your bedroom next month. Don’t abandon your marriage or your kids or all your hobbies. You need a life (however small it may seem to shrink).

Don’t dwell on this disease–that’s giving it way too much power.

It is what it is.

Eventually, you’ll reconcile yourself to Alzheimer’s. You will if it hangs around enough to absolutely wear you out. Reconciliation isn’t the same as giving up. It’s about allowing.

You can fight it–beat your chest and beg–but it won’t let go.

So laugh at the crazies, hug and hold hands as much as you can. Scream and cry when you need to.

Create your own village of support, and be “okay.”

I don’t know where you are–if your loved one just got the news and you’re still reeling.

Or maybe you’re in your tenth year and your mom’s in a care facility and she has absolutely no connection to reality.

No matter which case, you can’t get to any level of peace without going through the fire.

You will find your way. You will have a good moment, an allowing moment here and there–when life and your loved one–and all that you’re going through is ironically, “okay.”

Oh, and about the gal who ran out of the conference crying?

I met her–and her mom walking through the mall last Christmas. She introduced me to her mom–with tenderness and pride.

I’m Carol O’Dell, and I wrote Mothering Mother: A Daughter’s Humorous and Heartbreaking Memoir. It’s available on Amazon and in bookstores.

I hope you’ve enjoyed this blog and will visit again.

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It doesn’t matter your cultural or religious background–it doesn’t matter if you’re wealthy or just barely getting by, there are three concerns at the end of life most people share.

They’re heard by chaplains, hospice workers and volunteers, and by family members who gather around those they love and try to make the last weeks, days, and hours of a person’s life as comfortable and as meaningful as possible.

 

Here are the three biggest concerns at the end of life:

  • I don’t want to be a burden
  • I don’t want to be in pain
  • I don’t want to lose control over what’s done to me

I don’t want to be a burden.

As a speaker/facilitator in the field of caregiving, I hear this concern all the time–and it starts long before the end of life.

In fact, I heard it from my 25 year-old daughter. She said she’d rather go into a care facility when she’s older because she doesn’t want to be a burden. It’s a sad reflection on society to think that growing older or needing help to get around is equated with being a burden. (I didn’t teach her this, by the way :))

There’s a lot not being said here:

I don’t want to be dependent. I don’t want to be vulnerable.  I don’t like others telling me what to do. I don’t want to be in the way. I don’t want people to resent caring for me. I’ve dealt with the elderly and infirmed and I don’t want someone to have to do, to sacrifice what I did. I’m scared. I

But what if you’re not a burden?

What if caring for you is viewed as a privilege?

What if you plan enough ahead of time and arrange for the added/needed help so that family members do less physical work and can simply “be” with you–enjoy your company?

What if you do all that you can do now–health wise–to be strong and mobile and live longer in good health? (there are no guarantees on that one).

What if you have something valuable to offer–even in your last years and months?

What if even your dying is considered sacred and something to treasure?  (even if it is hard)

What if, by allowing us to witness your end of life, we learn how to handle our own?

Who else will teach us?

I don’t want to be in pain.

No one does. Certain diseases cause more pain than others.

I can’t promise you that you won’t be in pain.

I can’t promise you that the end will come quick or be sweet–or even meaningful in the sense that sometimes we romanticize certain events and imagine them in a glowing, fuzzy cinematic light with all of our loved ones gathered and all getting along and tears and smiles and kisses and we can be coherent and see them all and hold this wonderful moment for all eternity…and it isn’t always like that.

I can tell you that hospice in particular will do everything they can to keep you pain free.

Palliative care is better than ever–there are all over salves that numb you, take away the aches, meds to reduce fever and chills–but many of these medicines will gork you out. You may sleep a lot. You may not be fully aware of time or of your loved ones coming and going. You might be pain free, but there might be a trade off.

All I can say is that by knowing this now, you can come to some level of acceptance. That’s all I can offer you–or me. I can’t say how I’m going to go–whether it will be many years from now or any day.

I can’t say whether the end of my life will be peaceful or tragic. I just have to trust–and do all I can to attract peace.

But I do know that whatever I believe about the hereafter, eternity, heaven…it will be that I will not be in pain. I will be in peace. I will not carry the pains, hurts, and sorrows of this world onto the next. And that brings me comfort.

I don’t want to lose control over what’s done to me.

Isn’t it amazing that one of the last questions/concerns we have before we leave this earth is about trust?

This teaches me one thing–I better get to dealing with my trust issues now.

Trust is the underlying factor that determines the success of any relationship–marriage, friendships, communities–it all boils down to, “Can I trust you?”

The answer isn’t “Yes, I can,” or “No, I can’t.”

Trust isn’t about finding people who won’t ever let you down.

Trust is knowing they will–in some way or another–and being okay with that.

Loving them any way. Trusting any way.

Choosing and then living in trust. Not trust in others. Perhaps it’s trust in yourself.

Trust that you’ll be okay. Trust that you don’t always have to be in control.

It’s also about trust in something bigger than you–in God, faith, the universe, the good–whatever you choose to call it. Trusting that goodness will come your way. Trusting that the universe is out to help you.

In the end, we all know that death will come. Perhaps there will be pain. Perhaps I won’t be able to say when it will happen, where I’ll be, who will be around me, what care I will or won’t get. And that somehow I can still believe that it will be all be okay.

 

But there is one more lesson here…

There is a lot you can say about the end of your life–but you better say it now. Talk to your loved ones. Write your ethical will. Fill out that living will. Say what it is you want. Appoint that guardian or family member to speak for you when or if you can’t.

Say all the I love you’s now. Go on those dream trips. Make memories. Laugh, cry, make love, sing, dance.

You want to not be a burden?

Start now. Invest in your relationships. Call your loved ones and listen to their day to day problems. Spoil them with your time. Go for walks and hold hands. Tell them how very proud you are of them, of the kind, good people they’ve become–then they won’t think you’re a burden.

You want not to be in pain?

Don’t dwell on pain now–physical or emotional. Live “pain-free” by practicing forgiveness, letting go and laying old issues down. Pain thrives off tenseness, tightness, and focus. Pain therapists use many techniques to help their clients manage pain–laughter therapy, engaging the mind on something bigger, more interesting, acupuncture, yoga…by letting go of pain today, we don’t attract it tomorrow.

You want to not be hung up on control?

Start trusting today. Take a risk. Fail. Laugh it off and try again. When you feel like a knotted fist inside your gut, recognize it and choose to trust. Give someone a chance. Give them a second chance. Give yourself a chance. The person we least trust is ourselves. We mistrust our own goodness. We are our own worst critiques, our own biggest doubters. Start with small affirmations–say them out loud in the car or in front of the mirror:

“I trust my own good heart.”

The biggest concerns of life are no surprise–they’re our biggest concerns every day–when you come to think about it. Every day, we’re given a chance to face our fears–to see our own good–and the goodness around us.

If you’re a caregiver, and you’re with a loved one who is coming toward the end, reassure them–let them know repeatedly that they are loved, that you will do all they can to make sure they’re not in pain, that you will honor their wishes, you will be there–steadfast. They will not be alone. Each time you say this to someone else, you say it to yourself.

I know as a caregiver this time is scary.

You don’t know how. Perhaps this is the first time you’ve faced death in an intimate way–with a family member this close. I was just like you–my dad died in hospital–and I was facing the death of my mother in my own home. I worried if I’d be okay–if I could handle it–emotionally.

IYou will find your strength and resolve.

You will keep your loved one safe–and honor their life and their death.

You will give them the dignity they deserve.

Even though you may feel like running, you will be brave. You will be there for your loved one–and it will change how you perceive life–and death.

~Carol D. O’Dell

Mothering Mother: A Daughter’s Humorous and Heartbreaking Memoir

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Creating a bedtime ritual is good for the body and soul.

Parents do this for their children–read them a book, sing a song, say a prayer. Why do we ever stop?

Everything from brushing your teeth to the way you fluff your pillow gives cues to your body to begin to relax and let go. It’s a great way to ward off insomnia and over-thinking/worrying.

 

I always ask myself two questions at the end of each day:

What was the best part of my day?

What am I looking forward to tomorrow?

As I ask myself the first question, I almost always get a visual, and about 85% of the time the best part of my day had something to do with nature. Not about me achieving my goals–and believe me, I’m very goal driven. It’s not about a royalty check reflecting how many books I’ve sold or some other personal achievement (sometimes it is, but it has to be something I feel I’ve earned or dreamed about for a long time).

The first question allows me reflect upon the day.

It’s about the double-winged dragonfly that zipped past me while I was biking. Or the blue heron that stood still and let me get really close. Or the field of wild rabbits I came up on. No matter where you live–New York City or Kalamazoo, there’s more nature around you than you think. It’s there for a reason–it sustains you in so many ways.

 

Nature gets me outside myself. It connects me with all living things. It’s exquisite,  exotic, powerful, and surprising. Sometimes I relive these moments–the feel of my hair lifting off my shoulders as I bike, the buoyancy of the waves as I body surf–reliving those moments at the end of my day is living life twice.

Occasionally, it’s about an old friend that called, a recognition I’m particularly honored to receive, but more times than not–it’s not about me.

This one question has also changed my day. What will I have to tell myself at the end of the day if I don’t get outside and give opportunity for those “best parts of my day” to present themselves?

It’s heightened my awareness. I step out my front door expecting a miracle, or at the very least, a gift.  When that hummingbird appears, that deer looks me in the eye, I’m acutely aware–and grateful. I tuck in my memory like a pebble in my pocket knowing I’ll get to enjoy it again as I lay my head on my pillow.

The second question links me to the new day in front of me.

This one I heard from Dr. Phil.Now I’m not crazy about the direction he’s taken with his Jerry Springer-esque tv show, but I heard that he asks his sons this question each night so that they would end the day on a note of hope.

No matter our age or circumstance of life–we all need something to look forward to tomorrow.

Whether it’s meeting a friend for lunch or the next day’s walk, we need to go to sleep with the thought that tomorrow is waiting for us.

It doesn’t have to be big. It doesn’t have to cost money. It’s about creating a life of meaning.

Even our elders those we are caregiving need to look forward to the next day.

This again, causes us to create our days, make plans, and focus.

Create a morning ritual as well. 

List 5 things you’re grateful for before you get up.

Again, we’re talking simple.

Here’s today’s morning list for me:

I’m grateful for–

  • a bike ride (I go on one every morning)
  • my dog Rupert and his he sits nudged under my desk as I write
  • cherries that are in season–and the bowl that awaits me when I get up
  • my favorite pillow–gushy
  • my newly painted office that is lipstick red with white trim–and has a whole wall painted in chalkboard paint so I can literally write on the walls

Nothing earth shattering, but as my feet hit the ground each morning, I do what was suggested in the book, The Secret. Each step I take on my way to the bathroom–I say, “thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you.” Out loud. I

‘m smiling by the time I glance into the mirror.

This sure is better than beating myself up for saying something stupid that day, or mulling over a pile of bills, or rehasing a disagreement. There is a time to deal with those things, but that time isn’t the last thing at night or the first thing in the morning.

Protect this sacred time. Gather the best, look forward to tomorrow–

and fill your heart with gratitude.

 

I’m Carol O’Dell, and this is my blog, Mothering Mother and More, found at caroldodell.wordpress.com/

Carol is the author of Mothering Mother: A Daughter’s Humorous and Heartbreaking Memoir.

It’s a collection of stories and thoughts for families and caregivers written in real time as she cared for her mother who suffered with Alzheimer’ and Parkinson’s.

Mothering Mother is available at Amazon and can be requested at any bookstore or library.

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Randy Pausch died last Friday.

He’s the Carnegie Mellon professor who wrote The Last Lecture.

The book is based off a lecture he gave to his students that received such worldwide attention on YouTube. If you haven’t seen it on YouTube, here’s the link:

It’s not his usual style lecture since he’s a computer geek who teaches about virtual reality.
But Randy contracted pancreatic cancer.
It changes your priorities.
Randy’s last lecture was about play, integrity, falling in love, and purpose.
Randy lost his battle with pancreatic cancer last Friday.
His wife of seven years and three young children will miss him every day.  
He was 38 before he ever found true love.
He said something I’m passing down to my unmarried daughter.
“Don’t get married until you find a guy who has come to the point that your happiness matters more than his.” 
Randy and his family was featured on ABC last night.
It was about the most inspiring thing on television I’ve seen in a long while.
Here’s the link: abcnews.go.com/GMA/story?id=3633945
The Last Lecture (book and video) was written Randy says, not for the masses, but for his children.
He left behind what is referred to as an ethical will.
What is an ethical will?
It’s usually a written document in which you pass down your ethical, spiritual and emotional values.

Here are some common themes seen in many of today’s ethical wills:

  • Important personal values and beliefs
  • Important spiritual values
  • Hopes and blessings for future generations
  • Life’s lessons
  • Love
  • Forgiving others and asking for forgiveness
One such document was written by Barry K. Baines MD. His book is titled, Putting Your Values on Paper
I can say with great pride that Dr. Baines read my book, Mothering Mother and endorsed it.
I didn’t put Randy and Dr. Baines together until just now. Not until I started writing this post.
I love the serendipitous nature of life. No wonder this story moved me so.
Randy’s book and lecture is so about living, really living.
He says it’s about achieving childhood dreams, but I think it’s about capturing the essense of those dreams and living them out every day.
It’s also about who you are and what of “you” do you choose to leave behind.
My adoptive daddy had a profound effect on my life. When he died, I remember asking God to pass down Daddy’s mantel onto me. It’s a religious term that is mentioned in the story of Elijah and Elisha.
In case you don’t know or don’t remember, Elijah was a powerful prophet in the Old Testament. Elisha wanted to be his under study. Elijah told him that the only way that would happen was for him to follow him around everywhere and the moment God took him, Elisha had to be there to catch his “mantel.”
The story goes that a fiery chariot swooped out of the heavens, grabbed Elijah, and as he was snatched away–his cloak fell to the earth and Elisha caught it. Elisha went on to be a power prophet in his own right.
Now this story sounds downright Greek (as in a good yarn of mythical proportions). 
While you may or may not choose to take it literally, it’s about the transfer of power.
It’s about appreticeship and mentoring.
This is what I wanted that I wanted Daddy to pass on to me: 
Daddy posessed quiet power. Wisdom. Strength. Love of family. Dedication.
Honor. Thoughfulness. Old Southerness. Sweetness. Easiness, but with a line of “this is as far as you go.”
No one messed with my daddy. Everyone respected and admired him. Everyone. He had real power.
The kind you earn. The kind earned by staying married, by being a sharp shooter in World War II.
By walking a quiet, good life.
Do you know what the physics equation is of power?
(I watch a lot of TLC, and Discovery Channel).
Power  = Energy Divided by Time
You want to know how to add power to your life?
Put in a chosen amount of energy over a chosen amount of time–and you’ll have the equation to get however much power you want.
Say you want a powerful body. Muscles.
Go to the gym for 45 minutes a day four days a week for six months.
You’ll have power. You’ll have muscles. That simple.
We over-think, try to take shortcuts, and really it’s mathematical. Put in the time. Put in the effort.
What’s this got to do with ethical wills?
Those powerful people in your life–whoever you respect and admire–your dad, a coach, a teacher–you recognize their power, their expertise, the way they make others feel and how they inspire them.
You want some of their power, their inspiration after they’re gone. You don’t want it disappated into the atmosphere.
Like Elisha, ask for it. Put in the time. (He put in ten years)
Maybe this is what caregiving is–putting in the time and being there to catch the mantel.
Ask your loved one to leave a piece of themselves behind.
Ask them to write it down, or video or audio record them.
Get them to tell stories. Ask them who influenced them, who inspired them.
You can download an ethical will form, or you can simply write a letter to those you love.
Caregivers, I urge you to get your loved ones to do this on one form or another. You’ll be glad to have something permanent, something you’ll always treasure.
Randy Pausch inspired a nation.
In a publishing era that seems too often to be more about marketing and hype than substance, a little book and a YouTube video comes along and knocks the world off its feet.
He talked about what matters most–in the end.
Love, family, hard work, truth, play.
His children–and his readers are blessed.

Carol D. O’Dell

Author of Mothering Mother: A Daughter’s Humorous and Heartbreaking Memoir

available on Amazon

www.mothering-mother.com

Family Advisor at www.Caring.com

Syndicated Blog at www.OpentoHope.com

Kunati Publishers, www.kunati.com/motheringmother-memoir-by-car/ – 95k

 

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Mr. Spock said it r first. We all hope to live long and prosper.

But living long is an art–if you’re going to do it with finesse.

And prospering isn’t all about money–it’s about the wealth we acquire when we live good lives and take care of ourselves.

Great docs such as Dr. Oz and Dr. Roizen of the book, Real Age have compiled all the latest health data that if followed, can literally add years to your life. I took this info, along with several known preventative methods to deter Alzheimer’s and compiled it into a list. I love Dr. Oz’s You on a Diet, and You the Owner’s Manual–just enough medicine talk to teach me a few things in a great format I don’t mind picking up again and again.

You might want to post this on your frig.

Don’t feel pressure to do it all–just pick 2-3 things that you can incorporate into your daily/weekly life. That’s enough for now. Later, you can add 2 more.

The Health List: (Ranked in importance to some degree)

  • Embrace a positive attitude. This is number one. Squash those negative thoughts. Redirect them. How? Catch yourself in the act. Turn the negative thought into a positive one and say it out loud. Flood your car and other places where you mind wanders with music, informational CDs, or healthy conversation–continually correct those down/derogatory thoughts until they’re crowded out by good ones.
  • When you can’t, laugh it off. Sometimes life just gets chaotic and absurd. When the crap just seems to pile up, then laugh about it. Ask yourself if this will matter one year, five years from now. Most of the time, it won’t. If it will, then take action and do what you can to fix it–if not–let go of life’s steering wheel and enjoy the ride.
  • Let go of hurts and resentments–most people don’t mean to hurt you, and for those who do, why give them power by dwelling on it?
  • Breathe! When stressed, stop, place your hand on the place on your body where you’re feeling the most tension–head, stomach, and take five slow deep breaths. Count if you need to, if your mind needs something to focus on–30 counts in, 30 counts out–breath in through your nose and really fill up those lungs, and breath out through your mouth and empty everything out in that breath. Do this at least three times a day–stress or not–it’ll change your life. It’s great for stress and anxiety.
  • While we’re on breath, you gotta give up smoking. If you haven’t so far, make an appointment and get into a doctor quick–there’s so many ways they can help you–meds, hypnotism–you’ve simply got to quit. Know that each time you try, you get closer. So don’t give up. I have lots of relatives who tried for years, and you know what? None of them smoke now. Many smoked for 20, 30 years–and now they’re clean. So it can be done!
  • Get enough sleep. I’m talking 8-10 hours. Sleep deprivation will take years off your life,damage your body, and make life miserable. Create a sanctuary in your bedroom–declutter, paint it in a soothing color, get great sheets–look forward to going to bed. Not sleeping enough is responsible for more car accidents than drunk driving and is directly linked to obesity.
  • When you can, nap for 20 minutes. It’s restorative and will aid in your mental sharpness and creativity.
  • Surround yourself with people you love–a spouse, friends, build relationships and community in which to be a part of.
  • Walk 30 minutes a day. Don’t stop. Keep a steady pace. Music helps. It aids in weight loss, stress, diabetes and heart disease prevention.
  • Music is a great mood enhancer. When you’re down, reach for the ipod instead of the pills/booze. It’s known to be effective in dealing with anxiety, depression, and lowers blood pressure.
  • Make love! With yourself and others–being sexual is good for you. (If it’s in a monogamous committed relationship). Create an environment where sex, cuddling and fooling around is easy and relaxing. If not, explore why you’ve shut down in this area–stress? Lack of sleep? Unresolved issues? Take a look.
  • Do some weight bearing exercise 2-3 times a week. Lift weights, work in the yard–move your muscles and stretch those ligaments. It’s even more important as we age.
  • Play! While exercise is important, face it, it’s boring. What sport or activity did you love as a child? I was a bicycler. Now, I bike almost every day. Swim, kayak, install a basketball goal in your driveway–even if you don’t have kids around any more.
  • Stretch–everyone can stretch–any age. 5-10 minutes a day–along with your breath work is something caregivers and their loved ones can do together. Yoga’sgreat too, and there are lots of DVDs and online classes if you can’t get out.
  • If you want to obsess about a body part, then concentrate on your waist size. Waist size reflects mid-section fat–the dangerous kind that’s close to your heart. Men should have a waist of no larger than 36 inches and women, 32 inches. So get out the tape measure and take deep breath…
  • Incorporate being active into your relationships. Meet with a friend for lunch–and then go for thirty minute walk. Sign you and your spouse up for tennis lessons or dance lessons. Shake things up. It’s easy to get sedentary in our relationships and build upon eachother’s bad habits.
  • Get out in nature. Nature’s benefits are endless. We are a part of this planet, and no matter where you live, there’s a dragonfly or cardinal waiting for you. Nature teaches us and heals us in ways we’ve yet to explore or understand. Do you know what prisoners miss the most? The sun–and being outside. Most of us can get up and go outside our front door. Do more than walk to your car.
  • Get your Vitamin D.How? By getting outside–remember I mentioned walking for 30 minutes? Do you know that your eyes and skin absorb just the right amount of Vitamin D in about 10-20 minutes and then it shuts off so you can’t overload? Vitamin D is crucial to your bones and is a real problem for the very young and the elderly–so even if you’re a caregiver–wheel your loved one outside and enjoy the flowers, dragonflies, and walk around the block.
  • Before you head out the door, slather on some sunscreen. No need to inflict damage to your skin, which isn’t pretty in the long run, or put yourself at risk for skin cancer. It’s way too easy to buy a moisturizer that has full spectrum sunblock and slather it on each day.
  • Speak up. When something is bothering you, begin to speak up. Say how you’re feeling. You can do this without blame, but stuffing your feelings is damaging and is known to cause lots of health problems. Speaking up is about taking care of yourself. It’s not always about fixing a problem, but voicing your hurts and concerns is beneficial for everyone. Risk the confrontation. Most people take it better than you think and it can be a great bridge to better communication.
  • Embrace faith. Whatever you believe, to whatever degree–embrace the sense of hope that faith embodies. It’s okay if it’s not the faith of your family or culture, it’s okay if it is–people who have some sense of life beyond, of purpose past self feel more at peace and more connected.
  • Look at your stress. Caregivers and those who are actively caring for others all hours of the day and night can really feel overwhelmed, but what is it that really gets to you? Everyone is different. Stress usually stems from a lack of control. For some, it’s the feeling of being trapped, of feeling like your life is put on hold, or maybe it’s the helplessness of seeing a loved one in pain. Is there one small thing about the stress that you could change? Ask for different pain meds? Try acupuncture? Take an online college class so that you feel like you’re doing something for you? Change doctors if yours won’t listen or communicate. One positive act can have a huge effect. You can’t fix it all, but knowing that you can do one thing can really help combat stress.
  • Learn something new. Learn a language, take a class at the rec center, learn to knit, take a computer course, do a tutorial of photo shop, learn how to make a great tiramasu–use that brain of yours!
  • Play games–in your downtime, reach for the crossword puzzle, chess set, or brain games. It beats re-runs of old tv shows and fires those neurons in your brain.
  • When is the last time you laughed? This is where friends come in handy. If you’re going to watch tv, then opt for funny because it does great things for your body and spirit. Make sure you have at least one “fun” friend who makes you laugh, and brings joy and play into your life.
  • Touch. Be affectionate. Hug, kiss, pet your dog. Touch is deeply important. It’s healing. Get a massage. Hold hands.
  • Practice smiling. If you haven’t smiled in a while, or you can’t remember if you have or haven’t, then start practicing. Smile in the car. Smile on the way to work. Smile in the shower. Smiling goes much deeper than just affecting the muscles in your face. Smiling and touching a part of your body is known as Qi Gong in Chinese medicine. It may sound silly, but you”ll feel better and sometimes we just get out of the practice.
  • Avoid the doctor! Whenever possible (not when you’re really/very sick) don’t reach for the anti-biotics. A cold will run its course. Getting in a medical mindset is unhealthy. Drug companies have corrupted American health care–and a pill isn’t always the answer. For simple things, go to the Internet, a health book and try the natural alternative. Now I’m not talking about cancer, heart attacks, etc.

THE FOOD LIST:

  • Eat well. Food is a celebration of life and culture. Eat what you love. You may think you love Fritos and Ding Dongs, but I bet you love other things too. Make your plate a work of art. Eat on a real plate, sitting down at a nice table. Eat with those you love. Surround yourself with beauty as you eat–a candle or a flower. Think about the food you’re eating. Turn off the tv and enjoy what’s going in your body.
  • Have an eating plan. If you know you’re going to be extremely busy, then take a sec and plan what you’re going to eat. There are almost always decent alternatives. You can eat decently from a quick stop, so no excuses. Stress eating leads to junk food eating. Create a fall-back plan for when life is crazy and incorporate at least a few healthy alternatives. Love salty? Go for salted nuts as opposed to chips. Love sweets? Go for Twizzlers or other candies with no fat–or a bag of grapes. Mindlessly eating? Grab a bag of carrots. Some gum, or popcorn. Know what it is you want–to chew, something creamy and homey–have those comfort foods on hand. They now make a Mac and Cheese with only 2% fat–and it doesn’t taste half bad. 
  • Know your weak spots. I know when I’m overworked and exhausted that I eat crappy. I’m working on a plan–foods that aren’t terrible for me, but I still find comforting in times of stress. I also know that during those mindless eating stress times I need to take a bath and put myself to bed. I’m not craving food as much as I am self-care and rest.
  • Cut way, way back on fried foods. Now I know you love them, but save them for truly special occasions–birthdays, anniversaries. If you need a fix, then consider oven frying your food at home–country fried steak, and fried chicken still taste good from the oven and it really cuts down on the fat.
  • Eat at home. It’s the only way to control your portions and calories–and quality. There are so many hidden variables in eating out it’s hard to know where to start. Make your home a place of serenity and beauty and take pride in the food you fix. It’s a much more satisfying experience. Learn to make one or two new dishes a month–and enjoy the experience.
  • Embrace fruits and veggies. You know you should–start with those you already like. If you grew up on green beans and corn, then start there and always have those on hand. Try a few more–see what you like. There’s a million ways to make a salad so get creative. The darker green the veggie, the better–the brighter the fruit, the better. Color rules!
  • Go green and buy those fruits and veggies from a local stand–you’ll not only help out your community, but you’ll get fresher produce.
  • Look at your palm. That’s the size and thickness a piece of meat needs to be. You only need one of two of these palms a day. Not enough food? Then pile on the veggies! Have a piece of fruit before your meal–or after.
  • Avoid white–white bread, white rice, have small portions of corn and potatoes. Choose grains instead–brown rice, wild rice, all different kinds of bread–seek out a local bakery. Potatoes and corn are good, but know that you don’t need a huge plateful.
  • Avoid the other white stuff–mayo, full calorie dressings, gravies–all should be used sparingly and the low-fat version is a better choice since we tend to over do it in these areas.
  • Dairy is okay for most people–especially women. Americans could eat more yogurt–the yogurt cultures contain acidophilus and is great for balancing our digestive tract.
  • Curb your appetite with a palmful of nuts. Keep lots of nuts on hand (raw is best, but just get used to eating them regularly at first). The best nuts for your brain are walnuts, almonds, and pecans. They’re great in salads too. It’s a good idea to eat a small handful before a meal–they curb your appetite, have a healthy amount of oils, and you’ll be less ravenous at your meal.
  • Know your super foods–not all food is created equal–here’s a list of the best of the best:
    • Beans
    • Blueberries
    • Broccoli
    • Oats
    • Oranges
    • Pumpkin
    • Salmon
    • Soy
    • Spinach
    • Tea (green or black)
    • Tomatoes
    • Turkey
    • Walnuts
    • Yogurt
  • Nix the plastic bottles of water and install a water filtration system on your faucet. Plastic isn’t good for you–fumes and all–and most city’s tap water is just as clean, if not cleaner than the stuff you’re paying for.
  • If you want notch it up, go for organic meats and eggs that haven’t been injected with hormones. It’s more expensive, but realize you need to eat less amounts of meat any way. We don’t need all those hormones and antibiotics.
  • Take a multi-vitamin–while research goes back and forth about supplements, if you’re eating well, you don’t need too much else. If you’;re dealing with a certain condition–UTIs, heart disease, Alzheimer’s, then this is the time to incorate a few more supplements. Some research indicates that Vitamin C and E helps stave off Alzheimer’s. A great source to know what to take for what disease/condition is at Dr. Weil’s site.                                       .
  • Enjoy a glass of wine! Ladies, on a day is enough. Red is better (although I’m a Riesling fan). Beer’s okay too.
  • Give up the Cokes/carbonated drinks. Nothing good is in any of them. Treat yourself to one occasionally–if you really like the way it tastes, but don’t keep them in your house. They actually suck oxygen out of your bones, has been linked to Parkinson’s, and new research says it might actually damage your cells. And have you seen what it does to your car battery? 
  • Have a cuppa coffee! This one made me particularly happy. Studies show that coffee’s good for your heart–and for Alzheimer’s. It opens up the blood vessels.
  • Give up the artificial sweeteners. They’re all scary. Go with steevia. I know, it’s hard for me too.
  • Go with real butter as opposed to the fake stuff–but a little dab’ll do ya.
  • Go with olive oil whenever you can. Other than desserts, you can cook with olive oil–and we already said that cakes and cookies are a splurge item.
  • Fish rules. Try to incorporate 2-3 fish dishes into your weekly diet. Salmon is great choice. So are all the white fishes–this is when white is good. Go local when you can. Broil or pan cooked fish only takes minutes to fix.
  • Desserts such as cakes should go with life’s celebrations. Enjoy them on birthdays,  anniversaries and holidays–as well as break ups and other life tragedies that only a cake can help. Other than that, have your glass of wine, dark chocolate and some cherries–not a bad way to end a day. If you love your icecream, then go with a low-fat frozen yogurt. Experiment and find your favorite kind.
  • One great dessert you can have it dark chocolate. I keep it at all times. Seriously. I have a small bar each day. I like Dove dark chocolates. I need it be a little creamy. Some of the European high cacoa varieties are too bitter to my liking. Four of their little squares makes me very, very happy. I also like Ritter–and they have one with hazelnuts that’s to die for. Dark chocolate has anti-oxidants which lowers blood pressure.
  • Incorporate flax seed or flax seed oil into your diet–a spoon of the oil can be added to soup, rice, or other dishes and isn’t even noticed. This gives the body Omega 3’s which is great for your heart and is also high in fiber.
  • Women and seniors probably need to take a calcium supplement. We just don’t get enough, and we don’t lift enough weights to offset gravity’s pull on the bones and spine.
  • Best spices are cinnamon (regulates blood levels and is good for diabetes), curry and cumin (heart and metabolic effects) and garlic (heart again). In fact, spices are great all the way around.

A Few Last Words:

Trust your body. If you’re craving lemons, then eat lots of lemons. If you’re sleeping ten hours a night, then tuck yourself in early.

Our bodies are incredibly intuitive. It knows what it needs. Also know that it’s about 3-6 months behind, so the stress you’re experiencing now (say, a bum knee or a heal spur) might be because of the stress and strain that was put on it months before–also know that your spirit works the same way.

If you’ve experienced a huge life change, then realize that your body and mind may be reacting to it months later. If you’re weepy, angry, mopey, it may be that your body needs to play catch up. Let it feel what it needs to feel and trust that it won’t last forever.

Get rid of negatives. Negative people and work situations can be difficult, if not downright impossible to overcome. If you’ve tried to remedy the situation–you’ve spoken up, offered solutions, tried to be amenable and it’s still not working–then consider a change. Money isn’t everything, and if your relationship is unhealthy, then choose to be alone and trust that if you ask the universe for something better–and then wait–it will come.

If you’re in a stressful situation–caregiving, the end of life, a messy divorce, recovering from a car accident, then be gentle on yourself. Life ebbs and flows and know that this difficult time will pass.

Sounds like a lot, huh?

Focus on one thing. If you try to be uber-good, it’ll back-fire and you’ll wind up overdosing on Ho-Ho’s in your car. One change is a good change.

If I’ve forgotten something important, then email me and I’ll add it to the list!

According to the death clock, I’m living to 100. Now, I’ve seen what 90-100 looks like for most folks, and I’m on a mission to improve my last decade. I plan on dancing at my great, great granddaughter’s wedding!

Live long–and prosper!

 Carol D. O’Dell

Family Advisor at www.Caring.com 

 

 

 

 

 

Syndicated Blog at www.OpentoHope.com

Kunati Publishers, www.kunati.com/motheringmother-memoir-by-car/ – 95k

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Caregiving does things to you–as a caregiver, a family member.

It takes you places.

At first, you might start out caregiving heroically–feeling that you can make a difference. You can “fix” this problem–that your loved one’s condition can be bettered if you could just…get in there…find the right doctor, get on the right meds, coordinate the proper level of care…

It’s a tough day when you finally realize you can’t fix your loved one.

You can’t fix their disease.

You can do very little to make anything about this “better.”

You learn to just live, love, and hope to be granted some small level of grace.

You may feel as if you’ve lost them forever and this can cause you to grow bitter if you’re not careful. We don’t like not being in control, not getting results.

 But what if one of the goals/purpose/benefits of your loved one getting ill, facing death is what it does to you, the caregiver? What if part of this is about you?

What caregiving does to you, asks of you, unearths in you? 

I’m not trying to be Pollyanna here.

Sometimes it all feels useless. You didn’t sign up for a life lesson, and this is really shitty. Pardon my French, but I’ve been there, and I used far more “French” than that in my caregiving years! 

If someone told me that I was supposed to get something out of caregiving, there would be some days that I would have definately thrown some heavy, possibly sharp object directly at that person’s head.

But as the target talking here, I’m going to duck and say it again:

What are you supposed to get out of this experience? 

I can’t, I refuse to believe that caregiving is just this terrible, horrible thing that you have to endure because life’s just like that. Caregiving is so much more.

As much as it feels as if your loved one’s personality is gone–that you’re caring for a body, not your mom, remember they’re deep inside. When my mother started to lose her essence, I had to sort of go on auto-pilot. I had to care-give because of my commitment, my integrity (which I was groping and grasping to hold on to).

The difficulty lies in the fact of what we knew they once were–vivacious, intelligent, gifted people who made an impact on the world.

I was in a caregiver support group recently where a woman shared that her husband was a Yale Law professor, and now he can’t even dress himself. Her grief was palatable. She was holding onto who he was–what he did, what he presented to the world. She hadn’t let that part of him go yet.

Although you may only get glimpses of your loved one, hold onto the knowledge that they’re there. It becomes a treasure hunt. I began to seek out glimpses of my mother.

I started to notice smaller and smaller details: the way her hands moved, the way she’d brush her hair out of her face. That was still her. I didn’t use my hands like that–that was her own distinct way. As the bigger, more obvious ways of communicating diminished, it helped to pull in, and find my mother as if we were enjoying a game of hide and seek.

Some nugget, some kernel of their spirit is still inside.

 

Since the release of Mothering Mother, I’ve spoken to several thousand caregivers and their loved ones across the country. I’ve visited care facilities, and I’ve found that no two people are alike. No two people with Alzheimer’s react the same way. Even in their “lostness” is unique.

I knew I had to let go of who my mother was, and sadly, I knew I had turned her into a list: mother, wife, minister, cook.

I had to decide to love who my mother is: a person, a woman, the core of a spirit.  

 

I read about a couple whose son had been in a motorcycle accident years before and was brain injured. He was still alive, but he wasn’t the son they knew before the accident.

They decided to hold a memorial service or celebration service–even though he had not passed away. 

They needed to let go of the son they once had–in order to embrace their new son. This new son still needed to be loved, still needed parents, but as long as they were holding onto that old son/old image–it hurt too much.

I know that parents of children with disabilities have to mourn their pre-conceived notions of their children, of what it would mean to be a parent. They must learn to love and embrace the child in front of them–their medical/mental challenges, the way they may look, talk, or act different. They must witness and embrace the new beauty, the new relationship before them.

This journey, this revelation changes them–and in the end, oftentimes makes them a better person capable of more love and peace than could have ever imagined.

You’re not really letting go of your loved one–of who they were, who they are–you’re enfolding that into you–you’re the keeper of time, of memory, of all you hold dear.

 

 

I love time theories and quantum mechanics, (I wrote several papers on it in college) and I read a great article by a physicist that explained that time and events(or place–for us to conceive time, we have to intersect it with place) can be seen as a wheel with each moment being a spoke–and our memory adds meaning to that event–so some moments or events “spike out.”

Each moment, each event stands apart and will always exist.

For me, my mother, myself, and all the moments I hold dear exist forever.

 My favorite author, Madeleine L’Engle says,

“The great thing about growing older is that we get to keep

every age we’ve ever been.”

 Carol D. O’Dell

Family Advisor at www.Caring.com

Syndicated Blog at www.OpentoHope.com

Kunati Publishers, www.kunati.com/motheringmother-memoir-by-car/ – 95k

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Do You Realize You Will Most Likely Care Give More Than Once?

I compare caregiving the first time around to being chased by a hungry/angry bear as you’re running a marathon. Sure, you’ve got to pace yourself, but you also better run like hell.

You don’t usually have the time or foresight to plan your caregiving the first time around.

It’s just one big chaotic frenetic fear-fest!

But what if you knew you were going to have to care give again?

Most likely, you’re going to care give a parent the first time. But you have two parents…and you might have in-laws…and a spouse…and siblings…and god forbid, you have children that might need you to care give them–life is unpredictable.

That’s a lot of caregiving!

I hope you–nor I–have to care give all those people, but as you can see from the list, you’re most likely going to have to do it again.

What Have You Learned From Caregiving The First Time?

(Here’s a few of mine)

  • I learned to get prepared and organized–from the get go
  • I learned to protect my time, heart, and energy–every day
  • I learned not to fret about every little thing said or done–neither what I did or what was done to me
  • I learned not to give doctors or other medical personell carte-blanche. They don’t love my family member like I do
  • I learned not to let caregiving (people or the process) control me or my life
  • I’m not so afraid of the end of life–I hope to embrace this tender time and hold it sacred

If caregiving is a marathon, then the next time I vow to turn around and tell the bear to back off~

You can’t worry about your caregiving future. 

Live life now. Live big and with open arms. If caregiving comes your way again, it won’t be the same experience. It will teach you new things.

If You’re In Between Caregiving Times:

  • Be totally selfish. Take care of you. Recoup.
  • Do the things you put off. This won’t replace the loved one you lost, but use this time to keep your promises to yourself.
  • Look enough ahead that caregiving won’t completely side-swipe you
  • Do the prep-work: get those living wills signed, know where those important papers are, talk about long range plans
  • Put your family on notice–let them know just because you gave care once doesn’t mean you’ll automatically do it again

If It’s Your Spouse You’ll Be Caregiving Next

Caregiving your spouse is different. It kicks up all kinds of emotions. Be gentle on yourself.

You might feel scared for your own future. Angry they didn’t take care of their health before now. Weepy–your heart is wrenched.

How much time do you have left? What is the quality of that time together?

This is a very intimate, tender experience. Be present. Spousal caregivng isn’t about managing the situation–it’s much closer to the heart. at some point, let the rest of life fall away.

Caregiving is a Part of Who We Are–It’s Not The Whole of Who We Are

You are actually a good caregiver to stay outside of the emotional hurricane of caregiving.

You don’t prove that you love someone by being miserable with them.

Many times, our loved ones want us to feel what they’re feelings.

You know the old cliche’, “misery loves company?” It’s true. If we’re depressed, we tend to cloud the atmosphere and dare anyone to be cheery. It’s difficult to live with a person who has Alzheimer’sand not get pulled into the vortex of lethargy, melancholy, and numbness.

Caregiving is a Natural Part of Family Life

We just recently came up with this fancy name.

We’ve always had mothers, fathers, spouses who need us. Family caregiving was just the norm–and it was just being a family. The kicker now is how long we’re all living!

Enjoy Life–Enjoy Caring for Those You Love–And Don’t Over-Think!

Keep it natural. Love those who are in your circle.

Love life and appreciate your health, your family–and don’t over-think it all. Don’t try to do it all, be it all.

Care Give Loose!

Life is constantly changing. We have to learn to love and let go, love and let go.

(If I figure out how to do this, I’ll let you know).

~Carol D. O’Dell

Author of Mothering Mother: A Daughter’s Humorous and Heartbreaking Memoir

available on Amazon

Family Advisor at www.Caring.com

Syndicated Blog at www.OpentoHope.com

 

 

 

 

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Caregivers,

Do you have a place to go?

A sanctuary?

If not, it may be a big part as to why you’re stressed and resentful.

Caregiving invades your space, your head, your time–you don’t always get to say when you’re needed.

I pulled many a “late night shift” with my mom.

My mother had Alzheimer’s and Parkinson’s and not only did she have Sundowning, a condition in which people with Alzheimer’s get more aggitated and have more energy as the sun goes down–and on into the night, but she simply didn’t need much sleep–or her body wouldn’t let her sleep. (Here’s a post I wrote about my experience with sundowning).

It’s not like we could make it up during the day.

I was dragging. That made me miserable, fussy, and I tended to overeat. Why? Because studies have now shown that obesity is linked with lack of sleep. We tend to munch all day because it gives us something to do, causes our brains to perk up, and since sugar is almost always involved, we’re pumping ourselves up like we’re climbing the highest point of a rollercoaster–and then plummeting to exhaustion.

Maybe what you need isn’t to just lie down. 

It’s a renewal of your spirit you’re hungry and longing for.

You don’t have to be religious to need a sanctuary.

I love that I happen to live in a bird sanctuary area–the Timucuan Preserve. I love the thought that animals are held as sacred and that an area is designated for them.

But shouldn’t we humans create our own sanctuaries? What exactly is a sanctuary?

The word, “sanctuary” means:

Source: Webster’s Revised Unabridged Dictionary (1913) –The spelling has changed since then.

Sanctuary\Sanc"tu*a*ry\, n.; pl. Sanctuaries. [OE. seintuarie, OF. saintuaire, F. sanctuaire, fr. L. sanctuarium, from sanctus sacred, holy. See Saint.]
   A sacred place; a consecrated spot; a holy and inviolable
   site.
Two of the definitions include:
c) A house consecrated to the worship of God; a place where
       divine service is performed; a church, temple, or other
       place of worship. A place to keep sacred objects.
   (d) A sacred and inviolable asylum; a place of refuge and
       protection; shelter; refuge; protection.
Operative words: Refuge. Sacred. Shelter. Protection.

How to Create a Sanctuary:

What is sacred or holy to you?

  • Gather a few objects–a photo, seashells, stones, your mother’s broach, your dad’s pocket watch, your baby picture.
  • Grab a basket or a box and walk around your home and hard. Gather anything that interests you. Your sacred objects will change over time. Just get it rolling for now.

Find a place:

  • Where in your home or yard feels “safe?”
  • Where can you have some privacy? Where can you relax?
  • Place a table, a desk, a chair, a cover at this place. If it’s outside then create a box of your sacred items that you can carry out with you.
  • You might also want to include a journal and pen, micro-cassette recorder, a drawing pad, candles, a rosary–any object that helps you figure out life.
  • Go frivolous~ don’t think a sanctuary is all serious! Take your ipod along. Dance! Paint your toenails and read a magazine! Navel gaze. You may just need some extended down time–staring into space.
  • There are no rules. Do what you feel like doing. We’re taught not to trust our feelings. That if we got to do what we felt like, we’d all be drug addicts, cheaters who eat nothing but Oreos. Trust yourself. Do what feels right. Sleep. Stare. Rant. Cry. Sleep some more.
  • Your sanctuary is off limits to everyone else. Make your boundaries. No interruptions. No phone calls. Unless there’s blood and lots of it–you are not to be called away from your most important work–taking care of you.
  • You’ll be surprised, but your family and friends will respect your space–if you do. This is a great example for your children.
  • Don’t expect “results.”
  • This isn’t a magic box. It’s a place to rest or even to rejuvinate. Recenter. Calm down. Work things out. Place no expectations. This isn’t like Weight Watchers for the soul. You don’t have to weigh in and measure if you’ve gained or lost since last week. Just be.
  • You may need to use your sanctuary to work out your anger, hurt, and resentment. One thing I do when I’m really upset is to write it all down on scraps of paper, say it outloud, and then burn it. It helps to watch your anger turn to ash.

Pick a Sanctuary Location:

  • Some people like clearing out a closet and placing a chair, pillows, and a small table and light in their “prayer closet.” Oprah recently featured a sanctuary closet that was really decked out. 
  • Others like to go outside–they hide away in the nook of the yard and get the benefit of nature to heal them.
  • One friend keeps her “special box” she calls it in the car. She literally walks out the door and goes and sits in her car. Her family is less likely to find her there and she feels safe and cocooned. She can scream, cry or laugh in her sound-proof sanctuary.
  • For some, it’s in the bathroom. They retreat eat night to the tub–they keep candles, soaps, and a journal on hand. They know that being naked will most likely keep people away! Hey! Whatever works!
  • Be like my cat and change your sanctuary every once in a while.

Cats are great to observe. They seem to make their spots seem sacred. My cat picks a spot and goes there after breakfast each morning. He gives himself a luxurious bath, folds in his little paws and I swear, if cats could pray, I’d think he was praying. Then, he takes a nap.

This week, his spot is under my birth grandmother’s rocking chair in my bedroom. He tends to pick a spot and goes there for 3-4 weeks before picking another spot. Recently, it’s been in the back of my closet–that’s when he doesn’t want to be found. A few weeks ago, it was on a chair next to the dining room windows so he could enjoy the sun. I knew where he was, but he’s also quiet and hidden away enough to not invite attention. Smart cat.

What Do I Do in My Sanctuary?

First, let’s address what you DON’T do.

  • You don’t take care of anybody but you.
  • You don’t stay busy just to avoid what’s bothering you.
  • You don’t have your thoughts constantly interrupted with the chatter of life.
  • You don’t allow yourself to be bombarded with the demands of every day life.

This is What You DO:

Rest. Think. Imagine. Work out hurts. Cry. Zone out. Learn (maybe take a book?) Find your joy.

If it feels odd at first because you’ve never done anything like this, then let it feel odd. Your sanctuary practice will be even more necessary at the end of your loved one’s life–and especially during your time of grief. Create this space now so that you’ll have a place to run to when you really need it.

Like my cat, I change my locale every once in a while.

Right now, it’s on my back porch on my parent’s glider (they had it since I was adopted in 1965). I have a stack of books on one arm, and I recently bought a big cushion–in case I get sleepy. About 9am you’ll find me there with my 2nd cup of coffee, my journal, a few magazines, a no doubt, a couple of dogs by my feet.

I’m a Guy and This Sounds Lame:

Does it?

My daddy had a sanctuary. He called it a garage. He built it himself. He left for his garage every morning after breakfast (he was retired at this point) and after his game shows. He putzed, worked on a broken lamp, put in a small bathroom. He listened to talk radio. For the most part, he was alone–although a few friends would come and visit. Mama and I came down but never really stayed long. It felt like we were intruding.

He’d come back to the house with a smile. He’d had his time to himself. He smelled of sawdust and linseed oil–and peanuts and Coke he kept in a cooler to sustain him throughout the day. He came back relaxed because he allowed himself this break. He didn’t have to listen to Mama nag or me talk incessantly. He came back ready to be a dad and husband. Smart man.

Caregiving stress is a real issue with real ramifications to your health and realtionships. Sometimes we unknowingly contribute to our own stress by always being on call. Sometimes it’s a power thing we’re unaware of, sometimes it’s fear, sometimes it’s just a plain ole’ bad habit we can’t figure out how to break.

You need a sanctuary–caregiving or not.

You need to know that the world won’t fall apart because you take a half an hour and pull inward.

Like Daddy, you’ll come back refreshed.

~Carol D. O’Dell

Author of Mothering Mother: A Daughter’s Humorous and Heartbreaking Memoir

available on Amazon

www.mothering-mother.com

Family Advisor at www.Caring.com

Syndicated blog at www.OpentoHope.com

Kunati Publishers, www.kunati.com/mothering

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