Category: community

Momma’s Day

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Mom loves to have her head rubbed. When she used to go to beauty shops, she picked them based on how long the person shampooed her hair.

Alia, at a great place around the corner , not only gives fabulous shampoos, but she also begins treatment with a neck rub. Mom loved it, though she wouldn’t let Alia cut more than a 1/4 inch off her long gray hair!

Mom does seem more settled these days. She remembers for about 15 minutes, which means when she has an event that brings her joy, it is only in the moment. Experts say even that helps Alzheimer’s patients as the “sense” of joy helps keep their emotions balanced. I try not to be hurt when she forgets that I’ve spent the day with her. As long as she seems relatively stable and content, my own stress levels are lower.

Speaking of stress levels– somehow I’ve developed bouts of diverticulitis, in spite of all my good eating habits. I am hoping this doesn’t lead to surgery, but I haven’t managed to keep them from occurring. I am practicing deep breathing and belly massage to see if that helps.

I still haven’t figured out how to eat low fiber foods for the Div but eat high fiber foods to maintain good digestion! Seems impossible, right?

Once this all clears, I’m back to the FODMAP plan, which showed great promise before this all started.

For today, I am remembering meeting my sweet pal Heidi over the weekend, while I was also attending a funeral for my Dad’s brother. Seeing Heidi brought back such fun memories of when we worked together in Fredericksburg.

We picked up like we’d never been apart all those years. That’s friendship.

 

Always Learning

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My dad used to work in his woodshop all the time. He made furniture and trim work around the house. And I never knew him to pass a deserted boat on the river that he didn’t drag home to re-do.

I suppose that’s why I was drawn to this workshop. I have to admit. Some of the power tools made me nervous. After all, I do have a bit of anxiety. But when I finished a cutting board I felt like I had accomplished something.

Isn’t it pretty?

Learning From Friends

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I love learning.

Podcasts in the morning at the gym (today Brain Food by Lisa Mosconi) , or a stack of books from the library.

Recently I had coffee with a friend who shared information about the FODMAP diet, one I had explored but not fully embraced. After living with IBS for years, I finally decided to get on board. Day Three, folks, and it’s a miracle.

That’s not to say this is going to be easy. I LOVE onions and garlic. But if not eating them makes me feel better, then I’m in. Of course, it could be something else– fruit? yeast? chemicals?

I’m doing this step by step to see if I can figure it all out. The thing about gut issues is that it’s complicated. Sometimes stress causes it (I’ve had some of that recently), and sometimes it’s not the gluten in bread but the yeast. Non-yeast sourdough bread is often acceptable for the FODMAP diet. It might be bananas because you eat them ripe. Or even too much of a low fodmap food can mean trouble (ie lentils).

I can’t wait to read Lisa’s book and see how it fits into the FODMAP system. After all, a healthy gut means a healthy brain, too!

 

 

 

Photo credit: Chiot’s Run on Best Running / CC BY-NC

The Passing of Time

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This blog, started in 2005, has always been a place for me to reflect upon my life, whatever I am dealing with or learning about. At 66, that reflection has softened and widened.

The first few years (which I lost when I moved my blog to wordpress) focused on learning to run. I went from someone who couldn’t run more than a minute to a 50 year old who ran five half-marathons. Those were proud moments. I also experienced an online community for the first time. Is it dramatic to say this changed my life? It did.

Phase two: I learned all I could about the internet, finishing a master’s in instructional technology.  I was an early adopter, and I often faced challenges and push back from my teachers as I tried to help others learn to use technology in the classroom. But I was a true believer, and I started a laptop program in my school, the second in the state. Once again, community helped me learn about wifi, cables, programs and apps, and how to best serve students. I still laugh when I think about downloading Manilla to our server to be able to have my first blog!

Why did I ever think I could be a poet? But I did. So the next few years I wrote about writing, publishing, and writing groups. Though I no longer write poetry, I renewed my love of words and still read and share verse often.

Upon retirement, I began letterpress printing, which brought together my love of words and quotes and a new passion for learning an old skill. Printing brought me back into community with caring folk, both young and old, who share their knowledge and love of letterpress.

These days, I am beginning to write about Alzheimer’s and the difficulties of caring for my mom, who is suffering. I write “suffering” because she is in the stage of knowing how much she has lost, yet still mentally “with us.” I try to balance what is best for her with what she wants— and it’s not an easy dance. Once again, I reach out, knowing there are others who have walked these steps.

For all the negatives of social media-and there are many-I am grateful for the community of friends and thankful for the support. As Mary Oliver says, “how miraculously kind some people can be.”

 

“Halleluiah”
by Mary Oliver

Everyone should be born into this world happy
and loving everything.
But in truth it rarely works that way.
For myself, I have spent my life clamoring toward it.
Halleluiah, anyway I’m not where I started!

And have you too been trudging like that, sometimes
almost forgetting how wondrous the world is
and how miraculously kind some people can be?
And have you decided that probably nothing important
is ever easy?
Not, say, for the first sixty years.

Halleluiah, I’m sixty now, and even a little more,
and some days I feel I have wings.

 

Camp, Revisited

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I spent four days at Life is a Verb Camp with Patti Digh last weekend. This third time was different, partly because I dragged my husband along to help me carry heavy presses and type and partly because I’ve changed.

The weekend is a safe place for everyone, regardless of personality type, gender, religion, culture, or heritage. Usually, I attend it all– the small creative workshops, the loud, boisterous talent show, the speakers. But this weekend, I listened to my heart, my head, and my stomach– all three told me to spend time away from the crowds. On one hand it was hard. I love these people. But I also have had a difficult  fall, and I knew that socializing, even with kind, good people, was not going to be easy for me.

Instead I read and wrote, walked about the camp looking at colors, and explored Hendersonville. NC. The few times I connected restored me– sharing my love of letterpress, meeting new people over meals in the dining room, and spending a few moments with poet Toi Derricotte ( joy). I wish some of these folks lived closer so we could meet in small groups!

But no regrets. I am glad I went (stopping along the way to see my “traveling friends” in Charlotte– so much fun!)

We need quiet time to examine our lives openly and honestly – spending quiet time alone gives your mind an opportunity to renew itself and create order.
Susan L. Taylor