The Dementia

I really would love to sit down with her and have a nice lunch.  It's always hell.  Invariably, she says, "I'm going to have to have a talk with the bank about why I'm not getting my bank statements."  I've been here a year.  The first ten times she said this, I got up from lunch and pulled her bank statements out of her rolltop desk.  "You get them every month." I finally, ever so slowly realized that it did not matter how many times I told her, she would still believe she doesn't get them.  She is the one who gets the mail out of the box, religiously.  She opens them, she puts them in her desk.  And, she forgets them.  It took a long time before I realized that she did not even keep up with what she spent.  Anyone could have walked away with all of it.  Thankfully, she had caring, honest people around her.  The last time I got the statements out of the desk for her, she spent an interminably long time leafing through them and attempting to put them in order, first page, second page, with the correct dates.  I had watched this in the beginning with the Sunday newspaper.  I'm aware now, that this is something "they" do.  One of the hardest parts is being so very painfully aware that, given the family history: six sisters, all with some form of brain dysfunction, I may follow in her footsteps. 

So, writing this is my therapy, in hopes that I may save my own brain/sanity.  And, maybe yours, too.

 

And, while I type, she entered by room for the fourth time with her diamond watch with the broken piece.  I asked her to put it in a box.  We would take it with her class ring to get fixed.  She had "lost" her class ring.  I found it in her jewelry box.  On one of the 4 trips, she brought me a diamond ring and said I could have it.  She asked if I thought my son, Jesse, would want her deceased husband's watch.  I had to tell her I would close my door so I could get some work done.  Dealing with this is exhausting.  And, I know worse is coming.  And, I know others endure more.  It doesn't make it any easier to deal with.  It doesn't diminish the frustration.  I have prayed and continue to, as I know others have also.  I pray to have God's heart and eyes, to help me see and feel compassion for her.  I pray for miracles as I feel my bucket drain.  Maybe this is the best I have.

And, the heart doctor's office called this morning to say that the pacemaker machine had detected something over the weekend and he wants to see mother. When I asked about it, she said he wants to make sure she is taking her medicine.  I'm wondering if her GP relayed the situation. She had taken 90 days of her statin meds in 60 days. It's the only one she takes consistently, I think because she thinks it helps her sleep.  I told them they would have to tell her in no uncertain terms that I am to be administering her medicines, and I will record them telling her.  Anything less than recording that simply won't work, as I have told her GP.  When I try to help with meds, it just creates a huge nightmare. It doesn't help matters that I don't agree with all the prescriptions.  I have left it to God, and she is still here. 

getting better at reading the signs

I'm 64 years old.  Last year I left Phoenix, moved back to Georgia to care for my 89 year old mother who has dementia and OCD.  My life movie is either "Travelling with Cats," or "The Twilight Zone/Ground Hog Day Mashup."

Every day I wake up and count my blessings.  Usually, I'm glad I woke up. Grateful to have this time to be with mother, heal old wounds, grow on.  Today I was awake at 4:30 a.m. when I heard a noise on the deck that joins with my bedroom wall.  No way to look outside.  For years mother has been adamant that someone is out there harassing there, The Neighbor.  Now, I know it's raccoons.  How do I know? 

My mother hates (my) cats. They are my 6-year-old rescue babies. She refuses to let them in the house, so I purchased a rabbit/chicken coop for them to sleep in at night.  There they are safe from  foxes and coyotes, who live in the woods our property borders.  Our property.  I'm beginning to take ownership, it's an awkward position, parenting our parents.  One morning when I went out to the back yard to release the cats, I was greeted with a mess.  Something (raccoons) had stood on the plastic kitty litter container, reached through the chicken wire and opened the plastic container where the food stays.  The container was almost empty and the water bucket beside the outside faucet was muddy.  They had stopped to take a bath.

Today I watched Silver Lining Playbook and stayed in bed late.  Feeding my recent fascination with the amazing depth of Bradley Cooper.  I was struck by how much his mannerisms reminded me of my own son, now 21 and living with his girl in Cincinnati.  I don't remember if we watched this movie together or not.  I remember watching it on his monitor in his room when he was about 14. 

As I take care of cleaning the kitty litter from the box in the coop this morning, thinking already, again, about writing the movie of my life, the plastic grocery bag I pull out to put the crap in has a hole in the bottom, great metaphor for my life.  Upon closer inspection, I'm trying to be more present in my life, I notice it is a heart-shaped hole.  I laugh , thinking about the line from the movie, about how you have to get good at reading the signs.

It seems like sometimes things line up.  Some call it synchronicity.  In the south, we say it only happens when you hold your mouth just right.  But, sometimes that  feels like trying to control life.  Maybe life is like water, it flows when you let it go. 

Making friends with what is

I am so grateful to live now.  There are many who are awakening and sharing their knowledge and understanding. I feel less alone now than I ever have.  I will share with you the people I am learning from or shall we say un-learning or re-learning?

Byron Katie.  I had heard her name for years before I decided to look her up.  I thought she was one of the founders of Unity.  I guess it wasn't the right time. Once I discovered her, I watched every youtube video I could find.  Sweet loving kind funny honest open wise.  I feel so blessed. (Since I drafted this blog post more than a couple years ago, she has gained some notoriety and public acclaim, thankfully.)

Eckhart Tolle.  Yeah, yeah, yeah... be present.  I even read (at least a bit) of a book.  Didn't do anything for me.  Then I watched videos of him.  I love the way he is able and willing to just sit and be silent.  Which brings me to...

Ssshhh. 

Greg Baer.  He's been telling me to shut up for 17 years. He meant it for my benefit,  but of course that triggered the sound of my mom's voice and fell on deaf ears.  I have toyed with it over those 17 years, the practice of silence, and have become more peaceful as a result.  Thanks, Greg.

 
A book entitled "Inner Excavation," Liz Lamoreux, encourages us to explore self without the confines of having it look a certain way... so many ways to let go, eliminate self-criticism, judgment and stumbling blocks. Loosen up! 

Dance like no one is watching, because they probably aren't (people are way too self-absorbed, or in their phone's virtual world).  Life is too short to waste worrying about much of anything.  In short? Be real.  Be honest. Be happy.  Be real happy.  Be.

Summer Camp is ON!

The heat is on, and so are... Summer Camps!

This pic is actually from one of my previous school classes: 3D self-portraits

I'm doing somethings differently this year!  Instead of charging a fee, I'm asking for donations of Michael's gift cards to buy supplies!  I'm also asking each student to fill out an information form that will help me to design projects suited just for them!  I'm also changing the times and group sizes.  Groups will consist of no more than 4 students and run from 9 a.m. - noon and from 2 p.m. until 5 p.m.  This will allow me to better manage the projects, and add some resting downtime, too!

I'm really tickled about this summer's camp and can't wait to meet the participants.  We will be doing everything from paint to papier mache sculpture and anything else the kids want to try!  No particular skill level required, just the desire to create!  This camp can complement what the student is learning in their school, or, I can start with the basics, just for them!

Call me at 706-409-6696, for more information or to get started!

In lieu of great pics.... here is my car magnet, and front porch sign... smh.

Making Art and Helping Our Aging Parents

I'm not sure exactly how these two topics are going to merge, but I think they might.

 I spent one evening with my paints and canvases all over my kitchen table and counters, exploring myself and my process.  This is not usually a comfortable process as most artists know.  I can say this because I found confirmation that I am not alone in this recently in my local Barnes and Noble searching for inspiration.  I found it in the form of a book entitled "Art & fear - Observations on the Perils (and Rewards) of Artmaking," by David Bayles and Ted Orland.

It felt like one of those strokes of divine and magical inspiration when it landed in my hands... on the artistic struggle.

I was feeling sad when I left her yesterday.  I felt like she is going down hill.  She was lying on the sofa when we got there.  She has been lying down several times lately when we got there.  I don't think I ever remember seeing her lie down during the day.  I have often been over in the last few months and she would be sitting on the sofa sleeping, but never lying down.  She says she falls asleep every time she sits down.  My son agrees.  She has lost 9 pounds since she got sick. I cried on the way home, and voiced my concerns to my coworkers today, and asked them to pray for her and by the time we spoke around noon (mom and I), she sounded like her old self.  She said she had eaten, and wasn't satisfied and had eaten more.  She slept good all night long and didn't even hear her alarm.  She really sounded wonderful.  So, I guess maybe she'll be okay, for a while longer.  Although she'll probably have some bad days before she's really "back."  And, yes, I know she won't ever really be "back." 

I'm really going to have a bad time with this.  We have had some terrible times, but we've also had some good ones.  She is very important to me, probably too much so, I know.  She's going to leave a big hole in my life.  She has helped me raise my son and I couldn't have done it without her. I wish I could have healed faster.  I never felt like enough: mature enough, responsible enough, whatever, fill in the blank, and not because I haven't tried.  I've come to believe I really have done the best I could.  I love her very much, even though I also can't stand her a lot of the time. 

All this, with the knowledge that she could possibly outlive us all. 

Sometimes I think I'm PMS, even though I haven't had a period in at least 12 years.  This might be one of those blogs I should only send to myself. I'm working on letting myself be more vulnerable, transparent, and communicative.  So, here I am, in a puddle.

Please don't feel like you need to even respond, it just feels good to know you're there, reading.  And, I hope it doesn't upset you. I know we are "supposed" to be a light and uplift... maybe that's where the art comes in.  This weekend will be my second "Whole-Hearted Art" workshop for Cancer survivors.  I'm thinking we should do a workshop for Life Survivors... for those of us who are still here. 

So, we sit at a table and make art out of books and magazines that were destined for recycling.  Kind of the way we are making art out of lives that are destined for ... light?

Soul Food Workshop Win! Yay me!

I'm posting this because it's been sooooooo loooooong since I won anything, let alone something I wanted... well.  My luck has changed.  http://www.mystele.com/mystele-paint/2013/8/26/soul-foodheather-santos-and-giveaway-winner.html  Sweet! More about the upcoming workshop here http://www.mystele.com/soul-food/

This one of Mystele's.  Isn't it beautiful!  I can't wait. 

The First Whole-Hearted Art Workshop Follow-Up

Time for reflection, follow up, decompression.  It was #1... the first of it's kind-by-me, Whole-Hearted Art workshop.

First, I must admit to some pretty uncomfortable feelings.  (Is it a southern-thing to use the word "pretty" to mean a certain quantity or type of something?)  I was humbled by the burden and pain several of the Cancer survivors/attendees were dealing with, maybe all of them, but a couple shared some details that would have put the average person in the dirt.  These women were no average people.  The strength and determination, and heart of the human being is so blinking enormous.  I'm in awe.  I don't know what I may have been able to offer them that will help, I introduced them to what I know, which seemed to pale in comparison to what they were dealing with.  What they gave me was huge.  They showed up, they jumped in, they made a page or a spread in an altered book.  They began, probably their first, art journal.

I realized later, I could have given better art instruction.  I really wanted to share Real Love with them, so I focused mainly on communicating some basics about that.  I can also see now that I was too focused on what I was trying to say, and not really connecting as much as I'd have like with each person.

So, maybe going forward, I'd like to read some from the Real Love books, in a more comfortable setting, like a living room set up... big comfy couches and a comfortable floor to sit on, and later move more into tables set up for art for the altered books.  I intend to do some follow up this week, in order to really connect with the women who were there, and get there take on whether they'd be interested in more information and/or more art workshops.

So, all in all, I guess it was a success.  I did it.  I faced my fears.  I started with an idea and followed through.  I realized my fears, flaws and shortcomings.  I appreciate my own relatively pain-free, healthy existence.  I appreciate the burdens that others are carrying.  More and more daily, I guess I'm believing that we really don't know what others around us are going through, you can't judge a book by it's cover.  I guess that would be a good analogy to pursue, altering books, like our lives are altered, making conscious choices what to cover with gesso, and what to write in them.  What catchy slogans and quotes motivate us to go on when the going gets tough... what inspires us.  How do we become the person we want to be, the one we came here to become, the one that got squashed growing up.  Who are we?  Who do we want to be?  Do we really all just want to be loved?  Do we even recognize it when it's there right in front of us?  Lots of questions.  The answers, hopefully, are in the journey.