As seniors, we all have precious memories of Christmas. Just think, we have experienced 70, 80, or 90 Christmases! Researches in childhood psychology estimate earliest memories can be retained from age 3, especially if those experiences were happy. Certainly in our senior years we cherish family traditions gleaned from early childhood and wish to pass them on. But first we have to tell our families these stories.
I can remember the Christmas of 1948 when I was twelve. I dearly wished for just two things...a dressing table with a mirror and...a football. My parents burst out laughing when I told them. Why? I kept asking. To me, this request was perfectly logical. I needed the dressing table with mirror so I could study my face and cover all the pimples that kept cropping up. And I wished for the football so I could play 'touch football' with the neighborhood boys. After all, I loved getting involved into good-hearted physical sports activity.
Christmas Day arrived and Donald, my older brother, and I awoke early, of course, put on our warm bathrobes and sat on the top landing of our staircase while we waited impatiently for Daddy to climb down to the basement to shovel coke into our furnace so that the house would slowly warm up.
Wait a minute, what about this 'coke'? Isn't that a soda we drink?
Back in the 1940s we had a furnace that burned coke, a hardened version of coal, which burned slowly and efficiently to heat houses. The Coppers coke delivery truck would back into our driveway on Grand Avenue in Ridgefield Park, NJ and by means of a long chute, would deliver tons of coke through an open basement window, down the chute into our storage bin in the basement. Then my dad would shovel coke into the stove in the morning and the slow burning coke would keep us warm all day.
As soon as the furnace showed red-hot coke, Daddy would leave the basement, turn on the Christmas lights and call "Ready!" Donald and I would race down the steps in our cozy slippers and then gasp in amazement when we saw our long wished-for gifts sitting under the tree. That particular morning I shrieked with delight. There was my dressing table, painted white, dressed with white ruffles of white material. Standing on the smooth top was a perfectly clear three-fold mirror. And there on the floor sat a wrapped box with a red bow. Was it my...? I tore open the Christmas wrapping, lifted the lid and....Yes! There was my football! I was so excited I ran over and hugged and kissed my wonderful parents. (Later I discovered Daddy had built that dressing table with scrap lumber and Mommy had sewed the skirt.) Just what I wanted! Yes, such memories are endearing and filled with love.
Advance several decades later and I remember the hundreds of solo Christmas concerts I sang all over the country. Our three daughters were in grade school and joined me as my musical partner, Jane Douglass White, composed, arranged and accompanied on the piano all those familiar carols and traditional holiday songs. Beth, Carin and Diana captivated audiences as they sang selections from "Sound of Music" and gathered around me as I sang the musical rendition of "Twas the Night Before Christmas". The girls loved getting time off from school and rated the concerts, not on my singing, but on the tastiness of the cookies they were treated.
I specially loved singing my favorite, "O Holy Night". As my heart reached out to audiences I could sense the incredible power of love that surrounds us at Christmas time. We perhaps complain about the stress and busyness of the season but what is above us, in us, surrounding us during this time is the unmistakable presence of God. The Creator, Omnipresent, Omnipotent, Almighty God of the universe loves all of us so much that he sent a tiny babe, both human and divine, to live with us for the purpose of dying for all our sins. What Majesty! In this season when we think about God's Son born by a teenage virgin mother, in the midst of smelly farm animals, celebrated by culturally outcast shepherds who heard the heavenly angels' announcement, worshipped by affluent astrologers from a pagan country, we have no choice but to "fall on your knees, hear the angel voices" and sing "O Night Divine, O Night when Christ was born!"
Tuesday, December 18, 2018
Tuesday, November 20, 2018
A Time to Laugh
When was the last time you had a good belly laugh? A time when you practically convulsed with loud, uproarious laughs so that strangers around you turned and stared at you wondering what on earth was so funny. We've all had those moments...but do we have them now? Do we find life full of fun when we're in our eighties and feel burdened with all our hardships and challenges?
The other day a friend of mine was walking to breakfast in the community dining room of our retirement center when a gentleman hastily approached her. "Excuse me, but you have a tail hanging down."
My friend was startled. "A tail? But I don't have a tail," she blurted. And then she quickly moved her hand around and to her astonishment grabbed a piece of soft pink cotton. "That's my pajamas! They were caught in my dress pants!" She held up her beautiful pink nightwear and laughed with glee.
She retold her story to a group of us later and our table rang with laughter. We were not laughing at her but with her. She was not embarrassed. She wanted to share her hilarious story with everyone.
I looked around our table as the eight of us were laughing so hard conversation was impossible as we pictured in our minds our lovely 91 year old friend walking down the hall and into the dining room with her lovely pink pajamas floating like a wagging tail behind her.
Here we were in our eighties and nineties, men and women, all with some kind of physical or emotional or mental struggle, now bound together in a joyous moment of roaring laughter with tears of joy running down our cheeks. How wonderful to be united in a few moments of utter free fun. Macular degeneration, dementia, arthritis, cancer, Parkinson tremors, chronic pain, asthma, grief all disappeared in our laughter.
Just this past week Dick and I had an occasion to be laughing with sheer thankful joy! Driving out the parking lot of a local store I touched my ear and suddenly realized I had lost an earring! Utter calamity! Quickly turned the car back to the same spot we had parked and there on the black macadam we saw our apartment keys! (Another potential calamity!) Dick had probably dropped them as he pulled the car keys from his pocket. Then we entered the store and searched. I was about to give up, but then, the store clerk suddenly announced, "Here it is!" Was on the floor! My favorite gold and pink dangly earring danced in the light. We kept laughing with grateful hearts all the way home. Surely this was 'a God thing'.
Yes, laughter is the best medicine! Science proves that laughter relieves physical stress. Laughter boosts the immune system. Laughter triggers release of endorphins which are the body's feel good chemicals. Laughter protects the heart by increasing blood flow. Laughter burns calories. (Oh, I really like that one!) Laughter may even help you live longer!
Also, you can't be anxious, angry or sad when you're laughing. A laugh or a simple smile can help you feel better. That's why social interaction is so important. I know I've experienced times when I've been deeply concerned about something. Than I walk into a room filled with friends who are laughing and smiling which triggers me to join them with a smile and a chuckle.
Now let's be honest about smiles. What a simple thing to do, SMILE! Yet it seems that a lot of senior citizens don't smile very much. When your computer gives you trouble, when you stand for 20 minutes in the check-out at the super market, when you walk out to your car in freezing temperatures with snowflakes hitting your face, do you smile? Even though the challenge is there, a smile or chuckle removes your stress and anxiety. Try it!
Yes, the Old Testament book of Ecclesiastes tells us in chapter 3: 1 "For everything there is a season and a time for every matter under heaven." Then verse 4 "a time to weep, and a time to laugh: a time to mourn and a time to dance". Laughter is one of the precious gifts God has given us, so let us smile and laugh and bring joy to our souls. As we gather around our Thanksgiving tables let laughter ring. God created the heavens and the earth and pronounced it "very good". Rejoice and be thankful for His goodness.
The other day a friend of mine was walking to breakfast in the community dining room of our retirement center when a gentleman hastily approached her. "Excuse me, but you have a tail hanging down."
My friend was startled. "A tail? But I don't have a tail," she blurted. And then she quickly moved her hand around and to her astonishment grabbed a piece of soft pink cotton. "That's my pajamas! They were caught in my dress pants!" She held up her beautiful pink nightwear and laughed with glee.
She retold her story to a group of us later and our table rang with laughter. We were not laughing at her but with her. She was not embarrassed. She wanted to share her hilarious story with everyone.
I looked around our table as the eight of us were laughing so hard conversation was impossible as we pictured in our minds our lovely 91 year old friend walking down the hall and into the dining room with her lovely pink pajamas floating like a wagging tail behind her.
Here we were in our eighties and nineties, men and women, all with some kind of physical or emotional or mental struggle, now bound together in a joyous moment of roaring laughter with tears of joy running down our cheeks. How wonderful to be united in a few moments of utter free fun. Macular degeneration, dementia, arthritis, cancer, Parkinson tremors, chronic pain, asthma, grief all disappeared in our laughter.
Just this past week Dick and I had an occasion to be laughing with sheer thankful joy! Driving out the parking lot of a local store I touched my ear and suddenly realized I had lost an earring! Utter calamity! Quickly turned the car back to the same spot we had parked and there on the black macadam we saw our apartment keys! (Another potential calamity!) Dick had probably dropped them as he pulled the car keys from his pocket. Then we entered the store and searched. I was about to give up, but then, the store clerk suddenly announced, "Here it is!" Was on the floor! My favorite gold and pink dangly earring danced in the light. We kept laughing with grateful hearts all the way home. Surely this was 'a God thing'.
Yes, laughter is the best medicine! Science proves that laughter relieves physical stress. Laughter boosts the immune system. Laughter triggers release of endorphins which are the body's feel good chemicals. Laughter protects the heart by increasing blood flow. Laughter burns calories. (Oh, I really like that one!) Laughter may even help you live longer!
Also, you can't be anxious, angry or sad when you're laughing. A laugh or a simple smile can help you feel better. That's why social interaction is so important. I know I've experienced times when I've been deeply concerned about something. Than I walk into a room filled with friends who are laughing and smiling which triggers me to join them with a smile and a chuckle.
Now let's be honest about smiles. What a simple thing to do, SMILE! Yet it seems that a lot of senior citizens don't smile very much. When your computer gives you trouble, when you stand for 20 minutes in the check-out at the super market, when you walk out to your car in freezing temperatures with snowflakes hitting your face, do you smile? Even though the challenge is there, a smile or chuckle removes your stress and anxiety. Try it!
Yes, the Old Testament book of Ecclesiastes tells us in chapter 3: 1 "For everything there is a season and a time for every matter under heaven." Then verse 4 "a time to weep, and a time to laugh: a time to mourn and a time to dance". Laughter is one of the precious gifts God has given us, so let us smile and laugh and bring joy to our souls. As we gather around our Thanksgiving tables let laughter ring. God created the heavens and the earth and pronounced it "very good". Rejoice and be thankful for His goodness.
Tuesday, October 16, 2018
Choosing dying with dignity
(this posting appeared in the Holland Sentinel 10/16/18)
In this day of medical and surgical intervention, we are all living longer. Just think, the advent of penicillin in the 1940s made a huge difference in battling bacterial infections and keeping people alive.
Yes, medical intervention is able to keep our physical bodies technically alive to the extent we can be hooked up to a machine for years. So, the question....is that the life we want to choose? A hundred years ago people just passed away in their homes, minus emergency care or medical intervention, because there wasn't any. But in our day, the medical team is committed to preserving some semblance of life. Since we all know we will definitely die some day, at God's appointed time, why not die with dignity?
Seniors have choices. In this year of 2018, legalities are very important as we make decisions and they change from state to state and sometimes year to year. But we do have some legal alternatives like DNR (do not resuscitate), Advance Health Care Directive, and Living Will with Durable Power of Attorney where we can make important decisions ourselves regarding end-of-life instead of placing that burden on loved ones.
In 2002 my mother died at age 93. She had lived alone in the house she and my dad had bought in 1957. She drove her Ford Encore until she was 90, when she made the decision herself to stop driving. She was in good health, though suffered from some arthritis and spinal stenosis. She had an active mind and memory. At 91 years we helped her hire live-in assistants. In January, 2002 we were notified that my mother had pneumonia and was entering the hospital so we quickly drove to NJ.
I stepped into room 3014 and smiled at the familiar loving face. My mother, her aged body looking so vulnerable in the hospital bed, grinned in response. "Are you in pain?" I asked.
"No," she said, closing her eyes, shielding me from some unpleasant reality.
"The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want." I spoke the familiar words. Her voice picked up the verses, proclaiming her assurance of God's presence. Clasping the bony, arthritic hands, I wept.
The charge nurse appeared. "Time for your test."
'What test?" I challenged as I moved away from my mother's hearing.
"We've scheduled a special lung test."
"But she signed an Advance Directive for Health Care two years ago. She filed it with her doctor and here at the hospital. She does not want any extreme life-saving measures. I understand she had a CAT scan a short time ago. Why put her through any further discomfort?
She's lived a wonderful long life. She's not afraid to die. She's a Christian. She knows where she's going. Please let her go. I'm her daughter and I'm not afraid to let her die. That's what she wanted, to die with dignity. We talked about it."
The charge nurse looked at me with compassion. "I wish more families had your faith and peace. Come, I'll have the doctor talk with you."
As I spoke with the doctor, I realized the entire nursing staff was listening. "Please just let her go. No more tests. Let her die with dignity."
The doctor took a deep breath. '"Am I correct in saying you choose no further medical intervention?"
"Yes, and please give an order for No Code," I added.
As I returned to my mother's room, I wondered. If I were not a Christian, if I were not a nurse, I don't think I would have known what to say or do. What about families who are not familiar with medical language or do not have a strong Christian faith? How do they handle these situations? Do their loved ones end up on life support stretching the dying process to a painful, expensive siege?
Later that afternoon, my mother exhaled and slipped into unconsciousness. Then, as the flame of an antique slowly dims, her life slipped away and she entered the waiting arms of Jesus. The doctors, the nurses and the hospital had allowed her to die with dignity. They finally let her go.
We can all choose to die with dignity. Check out DNR and sign the legal form. Check out Advance Health Care Directive and specify your personal 'die with dignity' specifications. Check out Living Wills with Durable Power of Attorney. Let your wishes of dying with dignity be made known.
In this day of medical and surgical intervention, we are all living longer. Just think, the advent of penicillin in the 1940s made a huge difference in battling bacterial infections and keeping people alive.
Yes, medical intervention is able to keep our physical bodies technically alive to the extent we can be hooked up to a machine for years. So, the question....is that the life we want to choose? A hundred years ago people just passed away in their homes, minus emergency care or medical intervention, because there wasn't any. But in our day, the medical team is committed to preserving some semblance of life. Since we all know we will definitely die some day, at God's appointed time, why not die with dignity?
Seniors have choices. In this year of 2018, legalities are very important as we make decisions and they change from state to state and sometimes year to year. But we do have some legal alternatives like DNR (do not resuscitate), Advance Health Care Directive, and Living Will with Durable Power of Attorney where we can make important decisions ourselves regarding end-of-life instead of placing that burden on loved ones.
In 2002 my mother died at age 93. She had lived alone in the house she and my dad had bought in 1957. She drove her Ford Encore until she was 90, when she made the decision herself to stop driving. She was in good health, though suffered from some arthritis and spinal stenosis. She had an active mind and memory. At 91 years we helped her hire live-in assistants. In January, 2002 we were notified that my mother had pneumonia and was entering the hospital so we quickly drove to NJ.
I stepped into room 3014 and smiled at the familiar loving face. My mother, her aged body looking so vulnerable in the hospital bed, grinned in response. "Are you in pain?" I asked.
"No," she said, closing her eyes, shielding me from some unpleasant reality.
"The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want." I spoke the familiar words. Her voice picked up the verses, proclaiming her assurance of God's presence. Clasping the bony, arthritic hands, I wept.
The charge nurse appeared. "Time for your test."
'What test?" I challenged as I moved away from my mother's hearing.
"We've scheduled a special lung test."
"But she signed an Advance Directive for Health Care two years ago. She filed it with her doctor and here at the hospital. She does not want any extreme life-saving measures. I understand she had a CAT scan a short time ago. Why put her through any further discomfort?
She's lived a wonderful long life. She's not afraid to die. She's a Christian. She knows where she's going. Please let her go. I'm her daughter and I'm not afraid to let her die. That's what she wanted, to die with dignity. We talked about it."
The charge nurse looked at me with compassion. "I wish more families had your faith and peace. Come, I'll have the doctor talk with you."
As I spoke with the doctor, I realized the entire nursing staff was listening. "Please just let her go. No more tests. Let her die with dignity."
The doctor took a deep breath. '"Am I correct in saying you choose no further medical intervention?"
"Yes, and please give an order for No Code," I added.
As I returned to my mother's room, I wondered. If I were not a Christian, if I were not a nurse, I don't think I would have known what to say or do. What about families who are not familiar with medical language or do not have a strong Christian faith? How do they handle these situations? Do their loved ones end up on life support stretching the dying process to a painful, expensive siege?
Later that afternoon, my mother exhaled and slipped into unconsciousness. Then, as the flame of an antique slowly dims, her life slipped away and she entered the waiting arms of Jesus. The doctors, the nurses and the hospital had allowed her to die with dignity. They finally let her go.
We can all choose to die with dignity. Check out DNR and sign the legal form. Check out Advance Health Care Directive and specify your personal 'die with dignity' specifications. Check out Living Wills with Durable Power of Attorney. Let your wishes of dying with dignity be made known.
Monday, September 17, 2018
MONEY - blessing or burden?
Back in 1945 I can remember my mother giving me 10 cents to go around the corner to Otto's neighborhood grocery store on Highland Place in Ridgefield Park, NJ to buy a loaf of Wonder Bread. Remember those days? Mailing a letter for 3 cents...or watching a movie at the Rialto Theatre for 25 cents? My, how things have changed. And, of course, we had not even heard of credit cards.
Money has always been an important issue in our lives and whether you don't have enough or you are enormously wealthy, money can be a problem. So why do we have money problems? Why do we fret and fume at the erratic state of the stock market and worry how we're going to pay our monthly bills? Money can control our lives.
When Dick and I were first married we used a small file folder, about 5 by 10 inches with envelopes that we simply labeled Mortgage, Food, Utilities, Clothing, Insurance, Church, Vacation, Repairs, Christmas Club, etc. Twice a month Dick would cash his check and place the budgeted amount in each envelope. We paid cash or wrote a check for everything. No credit cards. If the money wasn't there we did not buy.
Yes, money can be a destabilizing challenge in our lives. But about 45 years ago I began to realize that I don't own anything in my life. All tangible things, all money that I earn, all that I possess is a gift. Yes, it dawned on me that God owns everything. Wow, did that change my perspective. Then I thought, if God owns everything, and He has given us enough money to live comfortably and raise four children, then I must show Him my appreciation by giving Him our tithes and offerings.
Back in 1972, when Dick and I were members of Wyckoff Reformed Church in New Jersey, we participated in a Lay Witness Mission. As a result of that weekend we surrendered our hearts to Jesus and our lives were dramatically changed. We had always been 'good little churchgoers' and gave $5 or $10 a week, congratulating ourselves on our generosity. But in 1972, we read the Book of Malachi in the Old Testament and began to re-think our giving. "Bring the full tithes into the storehouse, that there may be food in my house; and thereby put me to the test, says the Lord of hosts, if I will not open the windows of heaven for you and pour down for you an overflowing blessing." Malachi 3:10.
That sounds pretty good, we said to each other. So we took the meaning of 'tithe' seriously and began to donate 10% of Dick's salary every month. In fact, Dick announced the beginning of December, 1972, "Let's start tithing." I thought Dick was crazy! December? Christmas? Four kids under ten years of age? What about gifts?
But we pursued and since I was making a little money singing, we agreed to pour that money in and we made the tithe work. It was a struggle, but we persevered. Then we heard about the parents of a friend who had tithed 70% to the Lord. Imagine! We began to realize a 10% tithe is just the beginning. Years went by and gradually we began to increase our giving way beyond 10%. Did we experience "overflowing blessings"? Absolutely! True, we kept within a budget, but since we started tithing we have never been short of funds.
In the mid 1990s we had the opportunity to pledge a certain amount to a special mission project. At first we thought, how can we do more? We've more than doubled our tithe. Then we reminded ourselves of Malachi. So we said, "Let's see what happens. Will God bless us again?" Just one week after we had made the additional pledge to donate more money, the State of NJ sent Dick a letter stating....since you served in the US Army during the Korean War the State of NJ Pensions Bureau is increasing your monthly pension. The amount was almost identical to the amount we had pledged! Proof? God has poured down on us overflowing blessings time and again.
So in this time of economic growth and prosperity, we rejoice that God is in control. All that we have belongs to our omnipotent God and by trusting Him and giving back to Him what is actually His, we are blessed!
Money has always been an important issue in our lives and whether you don't have enough or you are enormously wealthy, money can be a problem. So why do we have money problems? Why do we fret and fume at the erratic state of the stock market and worry how we're going to pay our monthly bills? Money can control our lives.
When Dick and I were first married we used a small file folder, about 5 by 10 inches with envelopes that we simply labeled Mortgage, Food, Utilities, Clothing, Insurance, Church, Vacation, Repairs, Christmas Club, etc. Twice a month Dick would cash his check and place the budgeted amount in each envelope. We paid cash or wrote a check for everything. No credit cards. If the money wasn't there we did not buy.
Yes, money can be a destabilizing challenge in our lives. But about 45 years ago I began to realize that I don't own anything in my life. All tangible things, all money that I earn, all that I possess is a gift. Yes, it dawned on me that God owns everything. Wow, did that change my perspective. Then I thought, if God owns everything, and He has given us enough money to live comfortably and raise four children, then I must show Him my appreciation by giving Him our tithes and offerings.
Back in 1972, when Dick and I were members of Wyckoff Reformed Church in New Jersey, we participated in a Lay Witness Mission. As a result of that weekend we surrendered our hearts to Jesus and our lives were dramatically changed. We had always been 'good little churchgoers' and gave $5 or $10 a week, congratulating ourselves on our generosity. But in 1972, we read the Book of Malachi in the Old Testament and began to re-think our giving. "Bring the full tithes into the storehouse, that there may be food in my house; and thereby put me to the test, says the Lord of hosts, if I will not open the windows of heaven for you and pour down for you an overflowing blessing." Malachi 3:10.
That sounds pretty good, we said to each other. So we took the meaning of 'tithe' seriously and began to donate 10% of Dick's salary every month. In fact, Dick announced the beginning of December, 1972, "Let's start tithing." I thought Dick was crazy! December? Christmas? Four kids under ten years of age? What about gifts?
But we pursued and since I was making a little money singing, we agreed to pour that money in and we made the tithe work. It was a struggle, but we persevered. Then we heard about the parents of a friend who had tithed 70% to the Lord. Imagine! We began to realize a 10% tithe is just the beginning. Years went by and gradually we began to increase our giving way beyond 10%. Did we experience "overflowing blessings"? Absolutely! True, we kept within a budget, but since we started tithing we have never been short of funds.
In the mid 1990s we had the opportunity to pledge a certain amount to a special mission project. At first we thought, how can we do more? We've more than doubled our tithe. Then we reminded ourselves of Malachi. So we said, "Let's see what happens. Will God bless us again?" Just one week after we had made the additional pledge to donate more money, the State of NJ sent Dick a letter stating....since you served in the US Army during the Korean War the State of NJ Pensions Bureau is increasing your monthly pension. The amount was almost identical to the amount we had pledged! Proof? God has poured down on us overflowing blessings time and again.
So in this time of economic growth and prosperity, we rejoice that God is in control. All that we have belongs to our omnipotent God and by trusting Him and giving back to Him what is actually His, we are blessed!
Monday, August 20, 2018
Getting rid of 'stuff'
As we approach our senior years, isn't it amazing how much 'stuff' we've collected? We especially realize this dilemma when we are faced with the ultimate move. The decision comes upon us that we have to down size to an independent living facility. Yes, we are all facing the reality that the home we have loved and lived in for decades is too much to manage. So we choose a senior living apartment size dwelling. But where do I put my 'stuff'? What do I do with all those things that hold memories dear to me? What about the boxes and boxes of photos? Monumental decisions have to be made.
This summer Dick and I came to a very emotional and wrenching decision. Since 1985 we have been owners of a beautiful piece of lakeside property in the little rural village of Elgin, Ontario, Canada. We discovered this undeveloped gem in the 1970s as we vacationed on Sand Lake, part of the Rideau Waterway, originally developed in 1815 by the British as a defensive measure to keep the rapidly expanding United States from invading north. A series of hand-operated locks connect the lakes between Kingston, Ontario to the Canadian capitol, Ottawa. We fell in love with the sparsely populated area, pristine water, friendly loons, abundant bass fishing and the colorful sunsets. In 1990 we built our new home to enjoy retirement with plenty of room for our expanding family. The winters were beautiful with opportunities for cross country skiing, sledding, ice skating as well as quietly watching the wildlife including deer, mink and wolves feeding on the evergreen trees, scurrying about in the snow and venturing out on the 3 feet of ice covered lake.
In 2009 we bought a condo in Holland, MI because, as US citizens, we could only live 6 months of the year in Canada, due to new rules following 9/11 when the terrorists passed through the Canadian border. But we planned on spending summers at our beloved property.
But now, in this year of 2018, I am physically weak due to my bout with CNS lymphoma (brain cancer) in 2010 that I miraculously survived and Dick struggles with mild dementia. Plus we are in our eighties. We spent a month there this summer and the realization hit. What are we doing here....alone.... with closest neighbor 1/2 mile away. We are vulnerable to injury and isolated from emergency assistance.
We finally realized the time has come. We left our lakeside home and we are NOT returning. Not an easy decision...lots of emotional tears. This is the place we dreamed about and developed ourselves...added cabins...tractor shed...boat house....perennial gardens.....trails through woods.....constant care of our one mile lane....with the ultimate purpose to create the perfect vacation spot for our family. But we now realize we can't independently stay there any longer. It is not possible. We are OLD! No one likes to admit the reality. But we must. So we have left our precious lakeside home to our family and thankfully, they are already enjoying it this summer.
Having made the BIG decision, we purged closets, drawers and cabinets of all that 'stuff' that has no use anymore. As I struggled through 'stuff' I constantly had to be reminded to throw away. That's hard as that 'stuff' is filled with memories. "Oh, I remember when he gave that to me" or "Remember that party we went to?" or "Oh my, that's a picture of me as a Brownie Girl Scout" or "Oh Dick, there you are on the lifeguard stand at Spring Lake" and on and on. Memories linger......we don't forget. So we continued to sift and throw, make decisions, yet stubbornly set aside just a few pieces of 'stuff'.
For example we kept my press releases from my singing career tucked in the piano bench. Dick left plaques honoring his years as an elementary school principal on the walls of the loft. Tucked in drawers are souvenirs of the NY Yankees and NY Giants. And hidden in a closet are copies of stories and magazine articles I wrote as well as some of Dick's white water canoeing and ice hockey equipment. We trust our family will enjoy memories of us and know the lives we lived.
We did our best to get rid of our 'stuff', but probably didn't throw enough away. And now I am painfully reminded that I've never seen a U Haul pulled behind a hearse!
This summer Dick and I came to a very emotional and wrenching decision. Since 1985 we have been owners of a beautiful piece of lakeside property in the little rural village of Elgin, Ontario, Canada. We discovered this undeveloped gem in the 1970s as we vacationed on Sand Lake, part of the Rideau Waterway, originally developed in 1815 by the British as a defensive measure to keep the rapidly expanding United States from invading north. A series of hand-operated locks connect the lakes between Kingston, Ontario to the Canadian capitol, Ottawa. We fell in love with the sparsely populated area, pristine water, friendly loons, abundant bass fishing and the colorful sunsets. In 1990 we built our new home to enjoy retirement with plenty of room for our expanding family. The winters were beautiful with opportunities for cross country skiing, sledding, ice skating as well as quietly watching the wildlife including deer, mink and wolves feeding on the evergreen trees, scurrying about in the snow and venturing out on the 3 feet of ice covered lake.
In 2009 we bought a condo in Holland, MI because, as US citizens, we could only live 6 months of the year in Canada, due to new rules following 9/11 when the terrorists passed through the Canadian border. But we planned on spending summers at our beloved property.
But now, in this year of 2018, I am physically weak due to my bout with CNS lymphoma (brain cancer) in 2010 that I miraculously survived and Dick struggles with mild dementia. Plus we are in our eighties. We spent a month there this summer and the realization hit. What are we doing here....alone.... with closest neighbor 1/2 mile away. We are vulnerable to injury and isolated from emergency assistance.
We finally realized the time has come. We left our lakeside home and we are NOT returning. Not an easy decision...lots of emotional tears. This is the place we dreamed about and developed ourselves...added cabins...tractor shed...boat house....perennial gardens.....trails through woods.....constant care of our one mile lane....with the ultimate purpose to create the perfect vacation spot for our family. But we now realize we can't independently stay there any longer. It is not possible. We are OLD! No one likes to admit the reality. But we must. So we have left our precious lakeside home to our family and thankfully, they are already enjoying it this summer.
Having made the BIG decision, we purged closets, drawers and cabinets of all that 'stuff' that has no use anymore. As I struggled through 'stuff' I constantly had to be reminded to throw away. That's hard as that 'stuff' is filled with memories. "Oh, I remember when he gave that to me" or "Remember that party we went to?" or "Oh my, that's a picture of me as a Brownie Girl Scout" or "Oh Dick, there you are on the lifeguard stand at Spring Lake" and on and on. Memories linger......we don't forget. So we continued to sift and throw, make decisions, yet stubbornly set aside just a few pieces of 'stuff'.
For example we kept my press releases from my singing career tucked in the piano bench. Dick left plaques honoring his years as an elementary school principal on the walls of the loft. Tucked in drawers are souvenirs of the NY Yankees and NY Giants. And hidden in a closet are copies of stories and magazine articles I wrote as well as some of Dick's white water canoeing and ice hockey equipment. We trust our family will enjoy memories of us and know the lives we lived.
We did our best to get rid of our 'stuff', but probably didn't throw enough away. And now I am painfully reminded that I've never seen a U Haul pulled behind a hearse!
Sunday, July 15, 2018
Unending Grief
When we reach the eighties in our lifespan we assuredly have experienced grief. We know the painful sorrow that grips our hearts when a loved one has died. We may cease weeping but we never totally forget that moment when we come face to face with losing a life dear to us. It can happen as a sudden shock or following a long debilitating illness, but the finality of the loss of life leaves an unending ache in our memory.
Dick and I wanted a family and we eagerly awaited our first child. Following an initial first trimester miscarriage, we were overjoyed when I quickly became pregnant again. As a nurse I followed my symptoms of my second pregnancy with understanding and had no indication that anything could go wrong. Since I was a graduate of Columbia University/Presbyterian Hospital School of Nursing in NYC, I chose to be under the care of a respected obstetrician at the school. Traveling from our home in Oakland, NJ to upper Manhattan at that time was not a problem. I was due around June 10, so when contractions began early on June 4, I was not concerned. We entered PH and Dick was able to be in the labor room with me, a new accommodation that year of 1961.
Labor progressed smoothly with the nurse checking the fetal heart beat at regular intervals. Keep in mind, no ultra sounds at that time. When I entered second stage of labor the heart beat suddenly stopped. The nurse dashed from the room, the obstetrician suddenly appeared. Dick was quickly removed from the labor room, quick discussion held regarding C-section possibilities, finally hi-forceps delivery performed immediately, ending in a stillborn delivery. I never saw the baby, never held the baby. They thought that was better for me because I would 'forget'! The nurse exclaimed, "Oh, she's beautiful", so I know she was a girl.
I sobbed for hours, then days, and the ache continued for months. Unexpected, unexplained grief and sorrow overwhelmed me. And now, 57 years later, I still remember. I still grieve, I still have pain for the loss of a "beautiful" baby girl who was alive in me for 9 months but who never breathed fresh air. Yes, I know unending grief.
Losing one's own child whether at birth or in grade school, college or at age 50 is devastating. That child who you've birthed or adopted, cared for, nurtured, guided, disciplined, advised, been proud of, struggled with has been your focus for decades. To outlive your child is topsy-turvy which causes grief to intensify.
And, of course, losing your spouse, your lover, your companion, your teammate, your partner strikes at the depth of your being. The day-to-day loneliness confronts us and never leaves. The statistics show women outlive men. Therefore there are many more widows than widowers. Fortunately widows gravitate toward each other and that grief sharing helps to lessen the pain.
Yes, as senior citizens we all know unending grief. Death is a reality, a firm prediction. Benjamin Franklin was right, "In this world nothing can be said to be certain, except death and taxes."
So how do we cope with death? We certainly don't choose to endure unending grief. One way is just accept that's the way life is and therefore "eat, drink and be merry for tomorrow we die!" Or believe God's Word that Jesus is victorious over death and by believing in Him we too can have eternal life.
Death is our worst enemy, but fortunately, God in His great plan of mercy, gave us opportunity to choose life after death. True, we are scared of the dying process and since we've never died before, we're a little nervous about an unknown experience. But that's where trust, faith and belief come in. When we accept God's Word in our hearts with total surrender, fear disappears and we anticipate "a new heaven and a new earth" where "he will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning nor crying nor pain any more". Revelation 21:1,4.
I have chosen to follow Jesus Christ, my Lord and Savior, and I believe that I will be in Heaven one day. Guess who will be there waiting for me? The "beautiful" girl who was alive in me for 9 months back in 1961. Unending grief will turn to eternal joy!
Dick and I wanted a family and we eagerly awaited our first child. Following an initial first trimester miscarriage, we were overjoyed when I quickly became pregnant again. As a nurse I followed my symptoms of my second pregnancy with understanding and had no indication that anything could go wrong. Since I was a graduate of Columbia University/Presbyterian Hospital School of Nursing in NYC, I chose to be under the care of a respected obstetrician at the school. Traveling from our home in Oakland, NJ to upper Manhattan at that time was not a problem. I was due around June 10, so when contractions began early on June 4, I was not concerned. We entered PH and Dick was able to be in the labor room with me, a new accommodation that year of 1961.
Labor progressed smoothly with the nurse checking the fetal heart beat at regular intervals. Keep in mind, no ultra sounds at that time. When I entered second stage of labor the heart beat suddenly stopped. The nurse dashed from the room, the obstetrician suddenly appeared. Dick was quickly removed from the labor room, quick discussion held regarding C-section possibilities, finally hi-forceps delivery performed immediately, ending in a stillborn delivery. I never saw the baby, never held the baby. They thought that was better for me because I would 'forget'! The nurse exclaimed, "Oh, she's beautiful", so I know she was a girl.
I sobbed for hours, then days, and the ache continued for months. Unexpected, unexplained grief and sorrow overwhelmed me. And now, 57 years later, I still remember. I still grieve, I still have pain for the loss of a "beautiful" baby girl who was alive in me for 9 months but who never breathed fresh air. Yes, I know unending grief.
Losing one's own child whether at birth or in grade school, college or at age 50 is devastating. That child who you've birthed or adopted, cared for, nurtured, guided, disciplined, advised, been proud of, struggled with has been your focus for decades. To outlive your child is topsy-turvy which causes grief to intensify.
And, of course, losing your spouse, your lover, your companion, your teammate, your partner strikes at the depth of your being. The day-to-day loneliness confronts us and never leaves. The statistics show women outlive men. Therefore there are many more widows than widowers. Fortunately widows gravitate toward each other and that grief sharing helps to lessen the pain.
Yes, as senior citizens we all know unending grief. Death is a reality, a firm prediction. Benjamin Franklin was right, "In this world nothing can be said to be certain, except death and taxes."
So how do we cope with death? We certainly don't choose to endure unending grief. One way is just accept that's the way life is and therefore "eat, drink and be merry for tomorrow we die!" Or believe God's Word that Jesus is victorious over death and by believing in Him we too can have eternal life.
Death is our worst enemy, but fortunately, God in His great plan of mercy, gave us opportunity to choose life after death. True, we are scared of the dying process and since we've never died before, we're a little nervous about an unknown experience. But that's where trust, faith and belief come in. When we accept God's Word in our hearts with total surrender, fear disappears and we anticipate "a new heaven and a new earth" where "he will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning nor crying nor pain any more". Revelation 21:1,4.
I have chosen to follow Jesus Christ, my Lord and Savior, and I believe that I will be in Heaven one day. Guess who will be there waiting for me? The "beautiful" girl who was alive in me for 9 months back in 1961. Unending grief will turn to eternal joy!
Saturday, June 16, 2018
To "Daddy" on Father's Day
He was always 'Daddy' to me, even though I was 40 years old when he died. That choice of a name always felt cosy, warm and loving to me. And that's the way he was. I grew up in a close, affectionate family with a wonderful mom and older brother, Donald. Being in kindergarten when World War II broke out could have caused much fear because New York City and the Atlantic Ocean were close to my little suburb of Ridgefield Park, NJ. But loving parents protected me and even though we endured air raid drills, we were never attacked by German bombers.
I do remember those air raid drills. Our family would all hover down on the living room rug as the air raid sirens screamed above us. Every light in our house and street had to be turned off to prevent any enemy airplanes to attack. One night was especially cloudy, dark and scary. Daddy found a small flashlight for me and as I held that tiny light I felt better. Suddenly, the doorbell rang. The air raid warden, a friendly neighbor, saw my light and said it had to be turned off. So, Daddy wrapped his arms around me and kept me safe.
The Sunday papers were always a hit arriving with delightful comics. Daddy would seat us on the sofa, Donald on one side and me on the other side, cuddling close as he read the comics to us. I don't remember the stories but I do remember the undivided attention as he chuckled and patiently read all those comic pages.
He was always supportive and proud of me. When, in my 30s I launched a singing career throughout the US, Canada and other countries, Daddy would stand there and tell friends his "buttons were popping off his shirt" he was so proud. As my singing career grew with record sales, travel expenses, honorariums, Daddy would spend hours managing bookwork. How I appreciated that!
He had a great sense of humor, constantly telling endless "corny" jokes (at least as a teenager I thought that) to all his friends. Later I realized he just wanted to make people laugh and enjoy life. He was also a good example of a happy marriage, always being affectionate and caring with my mother.... kissing goodbye even when going on mundane errands.
He never 'spoiled' me but was always advising me and counseling me on important decisions, especially when I fell in love with Dick. Daddy had instant rapport with my husband and they enjoyed working on major reconstruction for our newly purchased home.
Growing up in a loving, supportive family it was somewhat of a shock to me when I learned about absentee fathers, abusive fathers, harsh fathers. It was then I realized how fortunate and blessed I am to remember my Daddy who always had time for me and loved me unconditionally.
In this age of IPhones, work demands, media bombardment, cultural enticements, may fathers today give their sons and daughters undivided attention, wise counsel and unconditional love so that on Father's Day these dads will be remembered with honor and devotion.
HAPPY FATHER'S DAY, DADDY!
I do remember those air raid drills. Our family would all hover down on the living room rug as the air raid sirens screamed above us. Every light in our house and street had to be turned off to prevent any enemy airplanes to attack. One night was especially cloudy, dark and scary. Daddy found a small flashlight for me and as I held that tiny light I felt better. Suddenly, the doorbell rang. The air raid warden, a friendly neighbor, saw my light and said it had to be turned off. So, Daddy wrapped his arms around me and kept me safe.
The Sunday papers were always a hit arriving with delightful comics. Daddy would seat us on the sofa, Donald on one side and me on the other side, cuddling close as he read the comics to us. I don't remember the stories but I do remember the undivided attention as he chuckled and patiently read all those comic pages.
He was always supportive and proud of me. When, in my 30s I launched a singing career throughout the US, Canada and other countries, Daddy would stand there and tell friends his "buttons were popping off his shirt" he was so proud. As my singing career grew with record sales, travel expenses, honorariums, Daddy would spend hours managing bookwork. How I appreciated that!
He had a great sense of humor, constantly telling endless "corny" jokes (at least as a teenager I thought that) to all his friends. Later I realized he just wanted to make people laugh and enjoy life. He was also a good example of a happy marriage, always being affectionate and caring with my mother.... kissing goodbye even when going on mundane errands.
He never 'spoiled' me but was always advising me and counseling me on important decisions, especially when I fell in love with Dick. Daddy had instant rapport with my husband and they enjoyed working on major reconstruction for our newly purchased home.
Growing up in a loving, supportive family it was somewhat of a shock to me when I learned about absentee fathers, abusive fathers, harsh fathers. It was then I realized how fortunate and blessed I am to remember my Daddy who always had time for me and loved me unconditionally.
In this age of IPhones, work demands, media bombardment, cultural enticements, may fathers today give their sons and daughters undivided attention, wise counsel and unconditional love so that on Father's Day these dads will be remembered with honor and devotion.
HAPPY FATHER'S DAY, DADDY!
Tuesday, May 29, 2018
Old age passion
My paternal grandparents celebrated their 50th Wedding Anniversary back in the 1950s. I remember vividly the 50th anniversary party. There sat Nana and Pa on the sofa, greeting relatives and friends parading in and out of Aunt Muriel's house, smiling and shaking hands with well-wishers. Struggling with arthritic legs and a trifle overweight body, Nana remained seated on the sofa. Pa, having recently recovered from cancer surgery on his face due to years of cigar smoking, joked and laughed with every guest. Pa affectionately called Nana, "Dorie" even though her name was Lillian, but to Nana he was always 'John'. I remember thinking that day, "They really still love each other". The attention they gave each other, never ignoring, but serving cups of coffee, sitting close together on the sofa, always together whether shopping or cooking a meal and especially their affectionate touches gave proof of their long lasting love.
Dick and I were engaged to be married at that time and we were madly in love. Here we were craving each other's presence, hearts racing every time we were together, clinging to each other, heated passion with every kiss. Yes, we experienced deep true love yearning for the day we would be married and experience God ordained oneness. Then the glorious wedding day was celebrated on December 27, 1958, a beautiful sunny warm winter day at the Presbyterian Church in Ramsey, NJ.
This December of 2018, Dick and I will celebrate 60 years of marriage. Unbelievable! I never thought we'd live this long, especially since we are both cancer survivors. Dick had successful surgery back in 1990 for prostate cancer and I was miraculously healed of CNS lymphoma (cancer of the brain) in 2010. Yes, 60 years of marriage....not total bliss because as two independent, strong-willed people, we've had our moments of disagreement, anger and resentment. But we remembered our vows to Almighty God and stuck it out, reminding ourselves of that first 'eros' love that bound us together.
Do we love each other even now?.....when we struggle with physical problems that impede any 'love-making'? Absolutely, and the love between us is probably stronger than ever. It would be my guess that most married senior citizens in their eighties are unable to carry on an active sex life due to medical and physical reasons. But why should that lessen 'love'?
When we express marital love we express intimacy......two hearts united as one.....two different personalities meshing together......two lives committed to caring for each other. So, as we are blessed with still being here in this physical life in our senior years, how wonderful to continue the intimacy of love.
Holding hands as we walk around the pond, holding hands as we sit together on the sofa watching a movie, holding hands as we sit close in church praying, holding hands as we say mealtime 'grace'. And when we hold hands we experience a lifetime of marriage. His hands once strong and smooth as he spent 27 years as an elementary principal but now still strong but weathered from 20 years of cutting wood for our catalytic stove as we enjoyed retirement. My hands, small but always busy with raising four children, sewing special dresses and playing the piano, now arthritic and knobby. But we now hold and caress those hands together......and that is intimacy.
Due to various physical problems involving back, leg, general bodily pain and discomforts, many senior citizens find sleeping in a recliner chair their only comfort. Fortunately, we are blessed that we are still able to share our queen size bed together. Snuggling close to each other as we lay side by side, arms about each other, we rejoice in that familiar intimacy. Stroking his face and whispering "I love you" brings a softness to my heart. And when he smiles and says, "And I've never stopped loving you", I giggle with joy. Yes, that is loving intimacy.
Our prayers at night are special. As we lay there together, we pray for each member of our family, naming each slowly and thoughtfully, that God in His grace and mercy would bless each one with health, protection and wisdom in following Him. We conclude our prayers by together reciting the 23rd Psalm. As children we had memorized that psalm and now in our senior years it takes on increased meaning as we consider 'lying in green pastures, being led by still waters by a Shepherd who comforts with His rod and staff''. And together we receive the Lord's blessing. That is loving intimacy.
So, what is "Old age Passion"? It is the deepest love.....it is binding, forgiving and tender. The best of love surely is in our senior years.
Dick and I were engaged to be married at that time and we were madly in love. Here we were craving each other's presence, hearts racing every time we were together, clinging to each other, heated passion with every kiss. Yes, we experienced deep true love yearning for the day we would be married and experience God ordained oneness. Then the glorious wedding day was celebrated on December 27, 1958, a beautiful sunny warm winter day at the Presbyterian Church in Ramsey, NJ.
This December of 2018, Dick and I will celebrate 60 years of marriage. Unbelievable! I never thought we'd live this long, especially since we are both cancer survivors. Dick had successful surgery back in 1990 for prostate cancer and I was miraculously healed of CNS lymphoma (cancer of the brain) in 2010. Yes, 60 years of marriage....not total bliss because as two independent, strong-willed people, we've had our moments of disagreement, anger and resentment. But we remembered our vows to Almighty God and stuck it out, reminding ourselves of that first 'eros' love that bound us together.
Do we love each other even now?.....when we struggle with physical problems that impede any 'love-making'? Absolutely, and the love between us is probably stronger than ever. It would be my guess that most married senior citizens in their eighties are unable to carry on an active sex life due to medical and physical reasons. But why should that lessen 'love'?
When we express marital love we express intimacy......two hearts united as one.....two different personalities meshing together......two lives committed to caring for each other. So, as we are blessed with still being here in this physical life in our senior years, how wonderful to continue the intimacy of love.
Holding hands as we walk around the pond, holding hands as we sit together on the sofa watching a movie, holding hands as we sit close in church praying, holding hands as we say mealtime 'grace'. And when we hold hands we experience a lifetime of marriage. His hands once strong and smooth as he spent 27 years as an elementary principal but now still strong but weathered from 20 years of cutting wood for our catalytic stove as we enjoyed retirement. My hands, small but always busy with raising four children, sewing special dresses and playing the piano, now arthritic and knobby. But we now hold and caress those hands together......and that is intimacy.
Due to various physical problems involving back, leg, general bodily pain and discomforts, many senior citizens find sleeping in a recliner chair their only comfort. Fortunately, we are blessed that we are still able to share our queen size bed together. Snuggling close to each other as we lay side by side, arms about each other, we rejoice in that familiar intimacy. Stroking his face and whispering "I love you" brings a softness to my heart. And when he smiles and says, "And I've never stopped loving you", I giggle with joy. Yes, that is loving intimacy.
Our prayers at night are special. As we lay there together, we pray for each member of our family, naming each slowly and thoughtfully, that God in His grace and mercy would bless each one with health, protection and wisdom in following Him. We conclude our prayers by together reciting the 23rd Psalm. As children we had memorized that psalm and now in our senior years it takes on increased meaning as we consider 'lying in green pastures, being led by still waters by a Shepherd who comforts with His rod and staff''. And together we receive the Lord's blessing. That is loving intimacy.
So, what is "Old age Passion"? It is the deepest love.....it is binding, forgiving and tender. The best of love surely is in our senior years.
Sunday, April 29, 2018
What about dementia?
Dementia. Our culture denies dementia. Not surprising because dementia is frightening. It is emotionally painful as you see your loved one slide away. But the shocking reality is "every 65 seconds someone new is diagnosed with Alzheimer's". And Alzheimer's is just one manifestation of dementia. How did all this happen? Right now there is no cure and no scientific explanation why it hits some and not others.
I am not an expert on dementia. I am just an ordinary person who lives first hand with a loved one who is a victim of 'mild dementia'. And my, what a challenging 24/7 existence that is. There is another factor that intensifies the discomfort. We are senior citizens. In this stage of our lives we are not employed, not sought after for community roles, not active parents. So, indeed, what clout do we have? Does the culture really understand? Or does our culture just pass us by with thoughts of....."He's out to lunch!"......or "She's crazy!"
What is the reaction of the world around us? Dementia causes friends to run away and families to over react with placement in facilities. In contrast, a cancer diagnosis causes friends and families to gather round with meals, loving words, hugs, even walking the dog and cutting the lawn. But dementia? Denial, walking away, better things to do.......
Then the caregiver takes the entire burden on herself .......articulating the correct word when he speaks in confusion.......reminding him gently what day it is.....where he is......what the plan is for the day.......patiently smiling as he endlessly repeats the same personal stories......enduring the loss of social interaction.....telling him again and again how much she loves him........reminding him how proud she is of him......looking at old photos together of when he was honored in his professional career.......reminding him of simple tasks he was currently engaged in but lost focus.......never criticizing him when he loses common sense. And all the while the caregiver is in deep emotional pain. Where is the wonderful, strong, independent, highly recognized, athletic, attentive parent, financial wizard, talented, faithful man she married?
God gave her this man as her husband 60 years ago. He has loved her, cherished her, protected her, provided for her, laughed with her, cried with her, debated with her and rejoiced with her. And now, even though some family and friends look away, she will stand by him "til death do us part".
Oh, may our culture seek to understand and support all our friends and families burdened with dementia knowing that dementia could even hit home.
I am not an expert on dementia. I am just an ordinary person who lives first hand with a loved one who is a victim of 'mild dementia'. And my, what a challenging 24/7 existence that is. There is another factor that intensifies the discomfort. We are senior citizens. In this stage of our lives we are not employed, not sought after for community roles, not active parents. So, indeed, what clout do we have? Does the culture really understand? Or does our culture just pass us by with thoughts of....."He's out to lunch!"......or "She's crazy!"
What is the reaction of the world around us? Dementia causes friends to run away and families to over react with placement in facilities. In contrast, a cancer diagnosis causes friends and families to gather round with meals, loving words, hugs, even walking the dog and cutting the lawn. But dementia? Denial, walking away, better things to do.......
Then the caregiver takes the entire burden on herself .......articulating the correct word when he speaks in confusion.......reminding him gently what day it is.....where he is......what the plan is for the day.......patiently smiling as he endlessly repeats the same personal stories......enduring the loss of social interaction.....telling him again and again how much she loves him........reminding him how proud she is of him......looking at old photos together of when he was honored in his professional career.......reminding him of simple tasks he was currently engaged in but lost focus.......never criticizing him when he loses common sense. And all the while the caregiver is in deep emotional pain. Where is the wonderful, strong, independent, highly recognized, athletic, attentive parent, financial wizard, talented, faithful man she married?
God gave her this man as her husband 60 years ago. He has loved her, cherished her, protected her, provided for her, laughed with her, cried with her, debated with her and rejoiced with her. And now, even though some family and friends look away, she will stand by him "til death do us part".
Oh, may our culture seek to understand and support all our friends and families burdened with dementia knowing that dementia could even hit home.
Saturday, March 24, 2018
"Come on seniors.....Speak Out"
We all grow old. A newborn squeals at the abrupt entrance to the world and from that moment begins to grow and change to fulfill a God given purpose. We become aware of the aging process in our thirties as we struggle to keep up with the light hearted abandonment of youth. Then as the decades pass with increasing speed we suddenly realize we have become 'senior citizens'. How did this happen so quickly? I ask myself as I find myself in the eighties...Why is my physical body literally deteriorating? The state of aging is obvious......white or grey hair, hearing aides, glasses, canes, walkers, slow of speech and slow of movement, daytime napping. And indeed some memory loss....."What's her name again?"...."What day is it?" The aging catches us by surprise and we wonder "How do I cope?" I missed that class in college......Dealing with the senior years 101... ..which of course was never taught."
Then the reality hits. Our culture here in the United States has a problem with aging! Look at the commercials on TV. Youth is worshipped, seniors are ignored or laughed at. Where do our seniors live? Huge corporations are cashing in on the plight and lives of seniors. Retirement communities offering independent living, assisted living, plus nursing homes with 'continuum of care' are popping up in every state. Financial arrangements vary from affordable costs at 501C3 non-profit facilities to total liquidation of personal financial holdings upon death. Some corporations have seized upon the financial assets of seniors promising them life-long care but grabbing all their money. Yes many seniors today have comfortable pensions (unheard of today in the business world). Many seniors today were born around the time of the Great Depression in the 1930s and lived their lives watching the budget, paying bills on time, never entering debt and in retirement have substantial savings. And these savings they wish to pass on to their children as gifts of inheritance.
Does our culture today essentially respect seniors? Or is our culture too busy, too focused on youth to truly respect the older population. Which, by the way, is growing in volumes due to 'baby boomers' now entering their senior years. Here is the increasing number of senior citizens, who have lived productive, important, creative, decision making lives in various jobs, roles, individual capacities with God given gifts to enhance our world and where are they now? Living alone in a condo, living alone grieving loss of loved one, living a challenging handicapped existence. BUT filled with knowledge. All those years of experience in an occupation, raising a family, coping with problems or grief or tragedy, travels, interpersonal relationships. What a wealth of knowledge to share with loved ones, friends, the public.
So, let us seniors speak out. Let us share our memories, our experiences, our knowledge. Let us give to our younger culture wisdom that we have accumulated. Let us feel worthy, respected and honored.
I pray this will happen.
Then the reality hits. Our culture here in the United States has a problem with aging! Look at the commercials on TV. Youth is worshipped, seniors are ignored or laughed at. Where do our seniors live? Huge corporations are cashing in on the plight and lives of seniors. Retirement communities offering independent living, assisted living, plus nursing homes with 'continuum of care' are popping up in every state. Financial arrangements vary from affordable costs at 501C3 non-profit facilities to total liquidation of personal financial holdings upon death. Some corporations have seized upon the financial assets of seniors promising them life-long care but grabbing all their money. Yes many seniors today have comfortable pensions (unheard of today in the business world). Many seniors today were born around the time of the Great Depression in the 1930s and lived their lives watching the budget, paying bills on time, never entering debt and in retirement have substantial savings. And these savings they wish to pass on to their children as gifts of inheritance.
Does our culture today essentially respect seniors? Or is our culture too busy, too focused on youth to truly respect the older population. Which, by the way, is growing in volumes due to 'baby boomers' now entering their senior years. Here is the increasing number of senior citizens, who have lived productive, important, creative, decision making lives in various jobs, roles, individual capacities with God given gifts to enhance our world and where are they now? Living alone in a condo, living alone grieving loss of loved one, living a challenging handicapped existence. BUT filled with knowledge. All those years of experience in an occupation, raising a family, coping with problems or grief or tragedy, travels, interpersonal relationships. What a wealth of knowledge to share with loved ones, friends, the public.
So, let us seniors speak out. Let us share our memories, our experiences, our knowledge. Let us give to our younger culture wisdom that we have accumulated. Let us feel worthy, respected and honored.
I pray this will happen.
Thursday, January 25, 2018
A SPECIAL GIFT
Music is a special gift.....a gift from our Creator. Where did those sounds come from? How did our throats have the capacity to make melody? How did our ears join with our larynx to coordinate sounds into music? And how did our brains conceive of abilities to write music notes, to name them and compose songs? Our Creator has given us this wonderful, inspiring, awesome means of music.
These days when our media bombards us 24/7 with shocking, tragic, depressing news our spirits groan for sounds of joy. What better way to find that joy? Music. You can find music playing on a number of venues.....Sirius, smartphone, Bose, TV, radio.....but how wonderful when you recall a tune and start humming by yourself.
How many times do we recall hymns sung at Sunday's worship or contemporary tunes at last week's worship service. When you hum that music or even sing the words, joy fills your heart. I know it fills mine!
When I think back on the hundreds of solo concerts that I sang, I remember the thrill of sharing my heart with audiences. Because that's what music does. Music sounds come from the heart.....emotional feelings of love, joy, struggle, pain, fear, victory. As I sang those songs from memory, with no sheet music in front of me preventing an audience barrier, I could sense the spiritual messages in those songs communicating in the hearts of the audience. That's what music is......communication heart to heart.
So when news is bad, when the day is stormy, when times are depressing, hum a tune about Jesus. You will be reminded of His love.
"Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so.........."
"Praise the Lord! Praise the Lord, O my soul! I will praise the Lord as long as I live; I will sing praises to my God while I have being." Psalm 146:2
These days when our media bombards us 24/7 with shocking, tragic, depressing news our spirits groan for sounds of joy. What better way to find that joy? Music. You can find music playing on a number of venues.....Sirius, smartphone, Bose, TV, radio.....but how wonderful when you recall a tune and start humming by yourself.
How many times do we recall hymns sung at Sunday's worship or contemporary tunes at last week's worship service. When you hum that music or even sing the words, joy fills your heart. I know it fills mine!
When I think back on the hundreds of solo concerts that I sang, I remember the thrill of sharing my heart with audiences. Because that's what music does. Music sounds come from the heart.....emotional feelings of love, joy, struggle, pain, fear, victory. As I sang those songs from memory, with no sheet music in front of me preventing an audience barrier, I could sense the spiritual messages in those songs communicating in the hearts of the audience. That's what music is......communication heart to heart.
So when news is bad, when the day is stormy, when times are depressing, hum a tune about Jesus. You will be reminded of His love.
"Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so.........."
"Praise the Lord! Praise the Lord, O my soul! I will praise the Lord as long as I live; I will sing praises to my God while I have being." Psalm 146:2
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