One of my biggest fears is that I will one day face dementia.
My mother's mother (who I understand I once called "Meow". not to be confused with my father's mother who I later called " The Original Drama Queen") suffered dementia in her later years. I remember times when she spoke to us as strangers, and one particularly disturbing holiday when she thought my toddler cousin was me and I was my mother.
Having such a young mother, I have been safe from this shadow, but have witnessed heartbreaking and horrific events with D/H (who's sweet grandmother kept mistaking him for his father) and through my friends whose parents were older.
It is through one such friend, who's beautiful and doting mother, slipped so suddenly into dementia's demon grip, that I was introduced to the story of Wendy Mitchell.
Wendy is a British woman who was diagnosed with Early Onset Alzheimer's in July 2014 at the age of 58. She worked full time eight full months after her diagnosis, then chose to take early retirement in order to enjoy her life while she could still could remember it. She is a tireless advocate for dementia awareness and research.
I share her blog Which Me Am I Today?
EnJOY!
Friday, May 5, 2017
Thursday, May 4, 2017
Thursday, April 27, 2017
Until We Meet Again
Today we laid to rest one of my very first friends. I had three other life long friends that I met in kindergarten. Randy had been one of those friends.
When we were in sixth grade, he had been my very first Homecoming "date." I use the word "date" in the loosest of terms: our parents drove us to the game separately and while we sat on the same row on the bleachers, he sat with his friends and I sat with mine. After the half time show, we shared fries and a Coke from the concession stand. Like any other 'tween relationship, it ended that night, as he ran off to play a pick up game of football just outside the end zone, and I went to find my parents.
When we were in seventh grade, he was stricken with cancer. I don't remember which one exactly but I remember how, with graphic detail, he had described the removal of several feet of intestine. While he was away having chemo, we had an assembly where we discussed his diagnosis, what to expect when he returned, how he lost his hair, but how he was still the same Randy that everyone knew and loved.
I remember it being touch and go at one point.The reality that he might actually die had us all stepping over that thin veil between innocence and knowledge of one's mortality. This was the year that Randy accepted Christ and Easter of that year, I made my profession of faith as well.
Answered prayer came in the form of a new chemo drug that would eventually save his life. But like every bit of magic, it came with a price. The miracle drug would damage his heart, and cause a host of problems that he would have to deal with later.
Turns out that "later" was now.
Even after beating cancer a second time when we were in our twenties, he faced several set backs. But he never complained. We both got married, started families, and went about life as usual. We would share casual hellos as we passed at Wallyworld.
Randy's life unraveled just a few years before mine did, Within a few months, he got divorced, then lost his job of 15 years. But he always showed concern for others, had an encouraging word, and would freely pray over the troubles of others. As I transitioned from married to divorces, he checked on me often, shared scripture and words of encouragement, and prayed with me for peace and comfort. He would always remind me that "God has a plan" and would often point out the detours in his own life. After 15 years in insurance, he completely changed focus, nd found a job in his field of study. He also got his personal trainer certificate and met another personal trainer in passing. Soon she was his fiancé, set to marry next month.
Like with many minor illnesses he faced over the years. he was usually admitted to the hospital, and pumped full of antibiotics. This time a nasty sinus infection sent him to the hospital., with difficulty breathing and a high fever. His usual course of treatment did not make a dent, and soon his organs began failing. By Sunday evening, he was gone.
At his funeral today, his son gave the eulogy. He had really become the touchstone for the family over the past week He made all the decisions over Randy's care, and eventually. the funeral. Just days after signing his father's DNR order, he was delivering the eulogy. He is the same age as Tigger.
I saw people that I have not seen outside of Facebook in over 30 years. After the service we stood around the parking lot reminiscing and promising to ''get together soon."
Until we meet again, Randy.
When we were in sixth grade, he had been my very first Homecoming "date." I use the word "date" in the loosest of terms: our parents drove us to the game separately and while we sat on the same row on the bleachers, he sat with his friends and I sat with mine. After the half time show, we shared fries and a Coke from the concession stand. Like any other 'tween relationship, it ended that night, as he ran off to play a pick up game of football just outside the end zone, and I went to find my parents.
When we were in seventh grade, he was stricken with cancer. I don't remember which one exactly but I remember how, with graphic detail, he had described the removal of several feet of intestine. While he was away having chemo, we had an assembly where we discussed his diagnosis, what to expect when he returned, how he lost his hair, but how he was still the same Randy that everyone knew and loved.
I remember it being touch and go at one point.The reality that he might actually die had us all stepping over that thin veil between innocence and knowledge of one's mortality. This was the year that Randy accepted Christ and Easter of that year, I made my profession of faith as well.
Answered prayer came in the form of a new chemo drug that would eventually save his life. But like every bit of magic, it came with a price. The miracle drug would damage his heart, and cause a host of problems that he would have to deal with later.
Turns out that "later" was now.
Even after beating cancer a second time when we were in our twenties, he faced several set backs. But he never complained. We both got married, started families, and went about life as usual. We would share casual hellos as we passed at Wallyworld.
Randy's life unraveled just a few years before mine did, Within a few months, he got divorced, then lost his job of 15 years. But he always showed concern for others, had an encouraging word, and would freely pray over the troubles of others. As I transitioned from married to divorces, he checked on me often, shared scripture and words of encouragement, and prayed with me for peace and comfort. He would always remind me that "God has a plan" and would often point out the detours in his own life. After 15 years in insurance, he completely changed focus, nd found a job in his field of study. He also got his personal trainer certificate and met another personal trainer in passing. Soon she was his fiancé, set to marry next month.
Like with many minor illnesses he faced over the years. he was usually admitted to the hospital, and pumped full of antibiotics. This time a nasty sinus infection sent him to the hospital., with difficulty breathing and a high fever. His usual course of treatment did not make a dent, and soon his organs began failing. By Sunday evening, he was gone.
At his funeral today, his son gave the eulogy. He had really become the touchstone for the family over the past week He made all the decisions over Randy's care, and eventually. the funeral. Just days after signing his father's DNR order, he was delivering the eulogy. He is the same age as Tigger.
I saw people that I have not seen outside of Facebook in over 30 years. After the service we stood around the parking lot reminiscing and promising to ''get together soon."
Until we meet again, Randy.
Tuesday, March 7, 2017
A Gift For Me.
Someone once told me that I only loved myself. At the time, they were very wrong. I loved everyone but myself. And the way I lived my life proved it. I let people run all over me. I scrimped and saved and sacrificed, over and over again. I let people steal from me and never said anything, because I thought they loved me too.
It has taken me a very long time, but I finally have a gift for me.
I love myself.
I love myself enough to not have to settle for someone who completely ignores me
I love myself enough to not be with someone who only shows affection when he wants something.
I love myself enough to ask questions when things don't add up.
I love myself enough to know the difference between having someone be there for me and just having someone be there.
I love myself enough to be with someone who will think I am his top priority and put my best interest first. To support me. To protect me.
I love myself enough to stand up for myself when things are not right.
I love myself enough to walk away if I need to.
I finally love myself
It has taken me a very long time, but I finally have a gift for me.
I love myself.
I love myself enough to not have to settle for someone who completely ignores me
I love myself enough to not be with someone who only shows affection when he wants something.
I love myself enough to ask questions when things don't add up.
I love myself enough to know the difference between having someone be there for me and just having someone be there.
I love myself enough to be with someone who will think I am his top priority and put my best interest first. To support me. To protect me.
I love myself enough to stand up for myself when things are not right.
I love myself enough to walk away if I need to.
I finally love myself
Saturday, March 4, 2017
A Reason Or A Season
They say that people move in and out of your life under one of three phases: a Reason, a Season or a Lifetime. There are people that came into one's life for a Reason, They there to teach a lesson somehow. There are those who are there for a Season. These also bring lessons, but they are typically there to bring one though a phase, resulting in life altering changes. Then there are those who are there for a Lifetime. These are one's family and best. lifelong friends. As I look back over my life, I clearly see people that fall under each of these categories.
Last night I was reunited with an old friend, I will call The Artist. I really think that he was sent into my life three years ago for a Reason: that there are still good people around me.
You may remember him as the friend that I had spent time with immediately after my divorce. He was a graphic artist, who was the younger brother of one of my classmates. He was also supposedly the "designer" of a particularly tacky tattoo, that I later learned had been a just hasty scrawl on a bar napkin.
I had stumbled upon him earlier in the week on the same social media that he had taken a break from years ago.. Life happens fast and he said he needed to focus on it. Then we lost touch.
Life happens fast indeed. In the 2 years since, he had gotten a new, better job, got priorities in order, and bought a house just up the road in my little corner of the world. Through a series of texts over the week, I found myself as his guest once again, for a movie, and good conversation. I am always up for intelligent conversation!
Directions to his new home included the warning, "watch for deer." Not surprising for the heavily wooded areas in and around out little town. I had seen more deer standing in my best friends yard in one year than I have my whole life. I proceeded with caution and drove carefully along that winding road not far from my home, lights on bright, scanning the road for deer.. Little did I know that I would happen upon two standing in his driveway. I am pretty sure they were two does, but there could also have been a spike in the mix as I didn't see the second one very well.
He was still as handsome as I had remembered, sporting a head full of thick black hair with just a touch of grey, that matched the smattering of grey in his Vandyke. He gave me a tour of his beautiful new home, which cost surprisingly little more than the rent on his one bedroom Southside apartment. It was sparsely decorated, as any bachelor pad would be, however the furnishings were well thought out and stylish. The living room had a large, square sectional with overstuffed cushions, a round, distressed wood coffee table, with side tables to match, and a beautiful yellow and gray accent chair. A gray area rug in gray and yellow pulled the room together.
His new job as Creative Director was a great improvement to his last, and he said that he felt he was finally being paid what he felt he was worth. Part of his job involved the operation of a state of the art printing machine that could print, among other things, large aluminum signs for use at the company facilities around the country. He attributed lifting and moving those materials around to keeping in shape.
As we sat in the living room, a large (at least 20 pounds large!) grey cat leapt on the couch between us. He immediately began smelling my coat, then, having deemed me worthy, settled into my lap. His name was Pablo, after Pablo Picasso. He reminded me so much of my beloved Zipper.
Pablo was quite the cat. He was very interested in my, primarily my coat, which he followed around the room, as I moved it so he would not sit on it. I know he smelled JB on it, a clear signal that I was a "cat person." Once he had decided that he was done with my coat, he settled onto the couch, just to our left, He became immediately interested in the Artist's phone, which lay among the collection of remotes on the coffee table.
The Artist reached out and moved the phone to the couch next to Pablo and unlocked the screen. A bright graphic flashed across the screen. It immediately caught Pablo's attention. As he gazed at it intently, he reached out with his paw and swiped it, as if he as checking his social media. We laughed at him as he scrolled through the pages.
I was very interested in the media delivery options that the Artist had, as he did not have cable either. I had a digital antenna but also heard about firesticks, Roku, streaming sites like Hulu, and such. The Artist had Roku. He showed me how it worked and agreed to help me get it set up once I settled on what I wanted. As we chatted, Pablo continued to scroll through the Artist's phone. He was so enthralled, he did not notice as I snapped his photo.
Conversation came easily and we seamlessly moved from topic to topic. We chatted until midnight, with little regard for the time. Though we started Blazing Saddles (an irreverent classic, that I am certain would not be released today) but it was little more than background noise. At 12:30, yawning, I said my goodbyes.
As I drove home, I wondered why this friend suddenly popped back up in this time in my life.
A reason or a season.
Either way, I am enjoying the lesson.
.
Last night I was reunited with an old friend, I will call The Artist. I really think that he was sent into my life three years ago for a Reason: that there are still good people around me.
You may remember him as the friend that I had spent time with immediately after my divorce. He was a graphic artist, who was the younger brother of one of my classmates. He was also supposedly the "designer" of a particularly tacky tattoo, that I later learned had been a just hasty scrawl on a bar napkin.
I had stumbled upon him earlier in the week on the same social media that he had taken a break from years ago.. Life happens fast and he said he needed to focus on it. Then we lost touch.
Life happens fast indeed. In the 2 years since, he had gotten a new, better job, got priorities in order, and bought a house just up the road in my little corner of the world. Through a series of texts over the week, I found myself as his guest once again, for a movie, and good conversation. I am always up for intelligent conversation!
Directions to his new home included the warning, "watch for deer." Not surprising for the heavily wooded areas in and around out little town. I had seen more deer standing in my best friends yard in one year than I have my whole life. I proceeded with caution and drove carefully along that winding road not far from my home, lights on bright, scanning the road for deer.. Little did I know that I would happen upon two standing in his driveway. I am pretty sure they were two does, but there could also have been a spike in the mix as I didn't see the second one very well.
He was still as handsome as I had remembered, sporting a head full of thick black hair with just a touch of grey, that matched the smattering of grey in his Vandyke. He gave me a tour of his beautiful new home, which cost surprisingly little more than the rent on his one bedroom Southside apartment. It was sparsely decorated, as any bachelor pad would be, however the furnishings were well thought out and stylish. The living room had a large, square sectional with overstuffed cushions, a round, distressed wood coffee table, with side tables to match, and a beautiful yellow and gray accent chair. A gray area rug in gray and yellow pulled the room together.
His new job as Creative Director was a great improvement to his last, and he said that he felt he was finally being paid what he felt he was worth. Part of his job involved the operation of a state of the art printing machine that could print, among other things, large aluminum signs for use at the company facilities around the country. He attributed lifting and moving those materials around to keeping in shape.
As we sat in the living room, a large (at least 20 pounds large!) grey cat leapt on the couch between us. He immediately began smelling my coat, then, having deemed me worthy, settled into my lap. His name was Pablo, after Pablo Picasso. He reminded me so much of my beloved Zipper.
Pablo was quite the cat. He was very interested in my, primarily my coat, which he followed around the room, as I moved it so he would not sit on it. I know he smelled JB on it, a clear signal that I was a "cat person." Once he had decided that he was done with my coat, he settled onto the couch, just to our left, He became immediately interested in the Artist's phone, which lay among the collection of remotes on the coffee table.
The Artist reached out and moved the phone to the couch next to Pablo and unlocked the screen. A bright graphic flashed across the screen. It immediately caught Pablo's attention. As he gazed at it intently, he reached out with his paw and swiped it, as if he as checking his social media. We laughed at him as he scrolled through the pages.
I was very interested in the media delivery options that the Artist had, as he did not have cable either. I had a digital antenna but also heard about firesticks, Roku, streaming sites like Hulu, and such. The Artist had Roku. He showed me how it worked and agreed to help me get it set up once I settled on what I wanted. As we chatted, Pablo continued to scroll through the Artist's phone. He was so enthralled, he did not notice as I snapped his photo.
As I drove home, I wondered why this friend suddenly popped back up in this time in my life.
A reason or a season.
Either way, I am enjoying the lesson.
.
Monday, February 20, 2017
Goodbye Hot Stuff
I was deeply saddened to learn that a lifelong friend had gained his wings yesterday.
I knew him from church. We grew up together. Youth trips and choir tour.
He was the main reason I got involved with the Miracle League.
He was a fixture with the Moody Blue Devil Marching Band. They called him "Hot Stuff." He could be seen marching out front, waving a flag, emblazoned with that nick name. He was even featured on a local new show.
Things will never be the same without you Gentry.
You will be missed.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
On a related and horribly tragic note:
Gentry's visitation Thursday packed out the church I once attended. When I reached the front, I hugged his mother, who mused what she would do now that her "shadow" of 54 years was gone. His step father, a man my kids called "Mr. Johnny," sat beside her, wheelchair bound, his oxygen tank behind him. He was so horribly frail that he would often stop to rest his head in his hands on the pillow in his lap. I chatted briefly with Gentry's brother and his wife. Our sons had played football together many years ago.
The funeral was held during the day on Friday. I am told Mr. Johnny passed out and was rushed to the hospital.
He died on Saturday.
Please keep Miss Gayle and the family in your prayers as she deals with losing both a son and a husband in the same week.
Tuesday, February 14, 2017
Happy Valentine:s Day!
It used to be a day set aside for fun and excitement and a tangible commitment of love. Now it is just another day. All the fake gestures of my past life were just that. Fake.
Being sick since last Thursday (not the flu though, like Dooder! Just a nasty upper respiratory infection) the last few days at work have been nothing less than challenging.
Yesterday, I left work yesterday before lunch, after nearly coughing up my right lung. The rest of the day was a fever-induced blur, that included falling asleep on the bench at the pharmacy, and cutting my finger open, but only God knows exactly how. I do remember receiving a Valentine's card from the Maternals but not much else. After waking up in cold sweat sometime around 2:00 a.m. I thought today I was good to go.
Feeling a little more peppy, I headed off to work. Around 8;30 a.m. KitKat sent me a text to remind me that I would always be her Valentine and that all I do for her does not go unnoticed. Hacking a coughing my way through the day, my condition began to decline. Apparently I was not crushing it like I thought I was, as my boss sent me home around 3:00 p.m. today. I dutifully arrived home, changed into my pajamas and crawled under the covers.
I must have nodded off because I was awakened by the phone ringing. It was a number I did not recognize. I answered, and a cheerful little voice on the other end of the line asked if I as Joy. I said that I was. The cheerful voice said she had a message from Julz. Still groggy from sleep, I asked what she said again, and she repeated that she had a message from Julz. Someone else in the back ground, a male voice, said " We are going to SING it to you"
The next think I know, I am being serenaded by none other than the UAB ACapella Choir! It was beautiful! Probably the best Valentine's gift I have received in a very, very long time.
At the end of the song, the cheerful voice wished me a Happy Valentine's Day!
I texted Julz to thank her for the very sweet message. She was delighted that I had enjoyed it.
Highlight of a day that had been pretty rotten up to that point.
Here is the song they sang in unmatched harmony.
EnJOY!
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