Need to Make Some Changes

When we returned from the cruise, I started a low carb/high fat way of eating.  I have adapted my food intake to it rather well.  I like meat, fish, and chicken.  I can handle lots of above ground vegetables.  I do miss fruit, but I don't miss breads, pasta, rice, and desserts.  I like the idea of eating until full and not eating until hungry.  I have to admit that those two are difficult for me because I tend to finish what is on my plate and it is hard to leave anything there.  But the most difficult is not eating if I am not hungry.  That means not eating at normal times (such as around noon or around 5-6).   If I am not hungry, then I don't need to eat.  That makes it difficult for Gary since he likes to eat three meals a day.   Now he is just grabbing a sandwich or eating a bowl of cereal.  We haven't been eating regular real meals for dinner for a while.  

Benefits so far:

• appetite has changed. 
• ankles/feet not swollen
• more energy
• clothes are looser and fit better
• lower grocery bills (no junk food)
• I am using the IP to hardboil eggs and perfecting my recipe for deviled eggs
• I love bacon and have been enjoying it.

Negatives so far:

• no appetite - nothing sounds good
• limited choices on food for meals (getting tired of certain things)
• I miss fruit and yogurt in the mornings
• Gary is eating more sandwiches and we are missing out on meal time together
• my right knee hurts
• weight isn't coming off as fast as it did when I was on WW
• eating eggs gets old
• sometimes the grease from the bacon upsets my stomach
• the two KETO FB pages that I was a part of were driving me crazy with their continued discussions of fasting, intermittent fasting, whether it were 1 cup or just 1/4 cup of fruit that was allowed.  Some would eat SF jello; others said it was bad.  Some would eat endless cauliflower, but others said the amount needed to be limited.    There were so many variables, and I understood that everyone is different, but I finally had to remove myself from their groups.

Conclusions:

We talked about it this morning and decided that while I am doing well on this new WOE, I don't seem to be happy with it.  I miss some things that I really like to eat - like fruit.  I really enjoy  a fresh bowl of fruit with vanilla yogurt in the morning.  It fills me up and I like it so much better than bacon and eggs.   

Gary's suggestion is that I return to WW and follow that plan.  I lost more with that plan and was more consistent with it.  The plan allowed me to eat what I wanted to eat as long as I counted the points and watched the portions.

I am not sure what to do.  The weight loss was slow to start, but I have lost 10 pounds since we returned from the cruise a month ago. I weigh only on Saturday mornings, and the last two weeks I have seen 2 pounds lost each week.  I didn't see that on WW.

But I felt good when I was able to order a burrito or an enchilada at a Mexican restaurant and enjoy it, and count the points) instead of suffering through a vegetable soup in a chicken broth base that was so spicy I couldn't eat it.

I do know that portion control is essential.  I do know that I need to stay away from potatoes, rice, pasta, sweets.  I did have a small piece of chocolate cake with white icing last weekend. I ate a small square of brownie on Easter Sunday.  I taste tested a few of the cookies I made for the kids.  I didn't feel any ill effects from them, like some of the more diehard Keto people do.

I also can't attend the meetings on Wednesday nights in Monticello. I like Sharon, the leader there, but Wednesday evenings are hard for me. Gary suggested attending a morning meeting somewhere, which would be easier.  Maybe when we return from the South Carolina trip I will check on that.

Bottom line is that it is important to me to lose some weight so I can wear size 12 clothes comfortably.  In the lower 180s or 170s is not my goal weight, but it is where I feel comfortable and I don't think I look fat.  My feet aren't swelling, and I have more energy.  I am hoping to feel more healthy in the process, and I need to find something that really works for me.  It is a lifestyle, a way of eating, and I need to focus on that and stick with something that works for me, is comfortable for me, and that makes our lives happier and easier.

Our Best Selves - April 30

"Our Best Selves"

Interesting topic with a focus on bringing our best selves to marriage.  While I agree with that, I also think that a marriage is a place for our hurt selves to be healed.  I don't mean being hurt by one's marriage partner, but bring the hurt from outside in to be healed.  I couldn't have healed from the hurt from my mother if it hadn't been for unloading all of the pain on Gary and his help with the healing process.  But that isn't the topic for today.

As I read today's devotion by Shauna, I agreed, but I really think we need to take it one step further.  We need to bring our best selves to our children, our friends, our neighbors, our colleagues, and the people we serve (in my case, my students).  

Bad days do happen.  Trigger situations happen which mean that anger erupts.  Small annoyances build into bigger blocks that push the breaking point.  

Often if the 'bad day' were happening when I left in the morning, by the time the drive to Logansport was completed, I had worked through the frustration, and I had put on the 'happy face' to be ready for my students.  They worked better when I was smiling and cheerful.  Soon I really did feel like smiling and being cheerful.

Putting our best selves forward is never a bad thing...and our best selves can be contagious.  But I still think that sometimes our spouse needs to help us overcome the trials and tribulations to open the doors for our good selves to return.

April 28 - Church Girl

Today's devotion focused on how Shauna "grew up" in a church family, which extended into finding her place in her peer groups, on athletic teams, and into her adult life.  The prompt for us was to think about how our experiences as we were growing up shaped us into the Christian women we are today.

Interesting topic.

Greta and I grew up with a Nazarene father and a Quaker mother.   We didn't attend either the Nazarene or the Friends church; rather we worshiped at the Westville Congregational Christian Church a few miles west of us.  Grandma Ritchie attended also, as did our aunt and cousin.  We went to Sunday School, church services, and attended Vacation Bible School.  I do remember going to camp at Quaker Canyon, which was just 5 miles down the road to the east, and going to a few 'meetings' with my grandmother and great-grandmother at the Yearly Meeting House for the Society of Friends in Damascus.

When we moved to Mt. Vernon, all of that changed.  We visited several churches but none of them were like the one we left in Westville.  Finally we became regular attendees of the Mt. Vernon Presbyterian Church.  Greta and I attended Sunday School.  Either Mom or Dad would drop us off there, then one of them would either pick us up after or Mom (but rarely Dad) would come to the church service following.  When I began singing in the choir, then my church attendance was needed.  Sometimes I would walk out to the choir loft and see Mom (and sometimes Dad) sitting in the back row in the middle right section, but often someone would be outside waiting for me after the service ended.  When I was 16, then I would drive Greta and me to church services on Sunday morning.

Part of Mom's reluctance to attend church I think stemmed from one minister, who at one point told her she needed to be quiet more during the Women's Circle meetings.  After that she never attended one and her church attendance dropped off too.  Also during my high school years, tension grew between Mom and me and Dad suggested talking with our current minister, which I did several times, but if he talked to Mom at any point, that would have stopped her attendance at church as well.

When they returned to Wooster, Mom said they visited several churches but the people were not friendly.  No one talked to them, so they never returned.  Thus there was no church family in Wooster.  Dad and Mom both are (were) very private about their beliefs and didn't share much with either of us.

Therefore it is remarkable to me that both Greta and I have such strong faith.

When I was at ISU, my roommates and friends on the floor would 'church hop' on Sunday mornings.  There were four churches bordering the east edge of the campus and we would take turns attending them.  Occasionally we would walk a few blocks to the Catholic Church when one of our friends happened to go with us who was Catholic.  Much as I wanted to, I never became involved in any of the campus groups, such as the SCAMPS organization which Megan and Hilary belonged to.  I was too shy, too nervous to go by myself, and none of the other girls on my floor ever expressed an interest in going with me.

In Francesville my wonderful neighbors, Don and Carolyn Markin and Bill and Nina Davis, invited me to attend the Christian Church with them.  I felt like I had found my home, so much so that Gary and I were married there in 1976.  Since he was born and raised in the Lutheran Church, however, we decided to attend St. Marks in Medaryville and raise our children in that church.  We became active in the Sunday School, with Vacation Bible School, playing the organ, and paying the bills as church treasurer.  Fast forward to the spring of 2002. 

At this point Megan was at ISU, Hilary was dating Blaine and they were graduating from WC, and both of them were going off to college.   Hilary had been attending Youth Group with Blaine at the Christian Church.  I had been asked to fill in for the organist at St. Johns UCC who had fallen and broken her wrist.  Gary was still going to the Lutheran Church to attend to the finances. Something was wrong with that picture. Our family was being split apart by church attendance and obligations, and we were not happy.  Gary and I finally decided that we needed to make some changes, prayed about it, and the decision was made.

Hilary was baptized in June 2002 by our neighbor, Junior Ezra.  Gary and I started to study with Jim and Junior that summer, and Blaine baptized us on October 20, 2002.  Since that time we have been members of the Christian Church and feel like we have found our permanent church home.  Our attendance and participation have varied and changed over the years.  We attended Ron's Sunday School classes regularly.  We were active in Small Group.  We were part of the Wednesday Family Night Meal prep team.  We enjoyed Thanksgiving dinners, Mothers Day luncheons,  and other activities.  He was a deacon and served on the communion service team.  I was a deaconess and prepared communion for every October Sunday.  But 'life' got in the way, and activities changed.  Another service was added, and since we opted for the 8:30 worship so we could then travel south to see the kids, our Sunday School attendance dropped off.  We were finding that a choice needed to be made on the Sunday evenings when Small Group met - either stay home and go to Small Group or go to see the grandkids.  The kids won every time.  Then my daily routine changed from the west side of the county to traveling east, teaching later in the day classes, and teaching night classes which eliminated some of the evening activities that I had enjoyed. Some things changed, but our church home is still there.

But that isn't really what the prompt was asking.  Not really.  Despite the church attendance, the growth in faith is what is important.  Greta and I have discussed how Mom and Dad never really shared too much about their own faith with us.  We just went to church. Dad didn't very often.  Mom did occasionally.   We were left to develop our faith on our own. 

Where I have really grown has been since the spring of 2002.  I knew that I needed something more in my life when I was playing the organ at St. Johns. I knew that our family needed to be together, on the same spiritual page.  All of us having a strong foundation and a place to call our church home was important.  We have that at the Christian Church.  Even though Megan is still a member at St. Marks, she and Matt were married at FCC and Cooper was dedicated as a baby there.  Blaine and Hilary have found new churches for their family as it has grown, but they still come 'home' to church occasionally.  But Gary and I are firmly at FCC.  My faith has grown to the point where I can now be involved in self-motivated Bible Study where I could not before.  Daily devotions have become part of my routine.  Conversations with others about our faith, about scripture, about walking with Christ have become part of my life.  I consider Rhonda, Sheri, and Debbie three of my closest friends, just because we are studying the Bible together in a small FB group.  I feel so much more comfortable with actual Bible study. I have become a better Church Girl.

Greta and I discussed this a few months ago.  Coming from the parents that we had who never discussed religion or their beliefs, who didn't stress worship, who had (and do not) no church family, we have become better Jesus Girls than we might have expected.  Our faith is much stronger that it was when we were younger. 

I often wonder what my life would have been like, and what my faith would have been, if I had been more active in a church in Mt. Vernon.  If I had been brave enough to go to the SCAMPS house by myself and be involved with the students there.  If I had encouraged Gary to attend the Christian Church rather than return to the Lutheran Church when we were first married.  If we had been baptized as younger adults.  If we hadn't split our church attendance between three chuches at one point and had just grown as a family in one place of worship. 

God does have a plan, and we must have needed what He gave us to be at the point we are today.  I consider myself a Church Girl now.  But I know one thing - I will continue to grow in my walk with God.  He isn't finished with me yet!

Creating Moments of Joy - Socially Engaged

Today's plans did not go, well, as planned. It was too cold (well, not really but it felt like it) to work outside, planting flowers and tomatoes as I thought I would do.  It was too cold (well, I could have bundled up in a heavy sweatshirt and my knitted headband) to ride around the yard on the mower.  Instead, I piddled around on the computer, caught up on my Online Bible Study, and now am reading more of Creating Moments of Joy, the book my friend Karen recommended to help us on our journey with Mom through dementia.

A chapter which caught my eye was titled "Socially Engaged."  Now this is true - Mom does like to talk, and she doesn't like to listen at all, but since Dad died in 2009, she has become more of a loner. She likes to read.  She likes being in her house.  She likes to be with her things.  We have attributed this desire to be alone to "Mom being Mom" and not loving us or wanting to be with us or whatever negative attribute we can assign to this trait.  But even before Dad died, she would often stay at home by herself instead of going with him to Cruise Ins or to Engine Shows or to other events.  Even though she liked to talk non-stop, she really was a homebody.

When she was at Smithville-Western, she hesitated to join others in the dining room.  She preferred to stay by herself instead of participating in the activities planned for the residents.  She would visit with others IN HER ROOM, and she would pay attention to the activities going on in the hallway, noises that came from other rooms (similar to peeking out the windows at the neighbors), and the people who came to visit, but she never wanted to participate.  We, once again, would attribute that to her being anti-social, to being contrary, to whatever other negative trait we could assign her 'just being Mom."

Now at Chapel Hill the same thing has happened.  She is isolating herself from others.  She is dining more frequently in her room.  She declined going to the chapel for Palm Sunday services with Greta and Kent.  She didn't want to be pushed over to the sunroom for a change of scenery.  She just wanted to stay in her room, eat in her room, and watch others go by in the hallway.  "Just being Mom" again?  Maybe. But this chapter shed some light on the issue.

From research it is learned that Alzheimers patients sometimes cannot handle large spaces, lots of people, and noise, especially if it is not the 'norm' for them.  When they are taken out of their rooms, which are small and quiet, for the most part, and put  into a place with a lot of commotion, then they sink into a sort of blackness that causes them to panic inside.  They want to go back to where they feel safe.  

That makes sense. Mom has spent so much time in recent years in her house.  She moved from her chair in the living room, to the kitchen, to the dining room to sit at the table, to the bathroom, and back to her chair.  It may sound like a large distance, but really walking all of that at once would be a circular 50 steps or fewer.  Mom kept the drapes drawn and the blinds closed.  Why?  Because she was afraid of people, specifically the neighbors across the street, seeing into her house and knowing she was there alone (like they didn't already know that?).  She thought people would drive by and stop and see her in there.  She expected them to exit their cars, cross the yard, tromp through the bushes, and stand on tiptoe to peer in and see what she was doing.  Despite the reasoning, the reality is that she didn't move around much, she functioned in quiet and darkness, and she wasn't used to many people surrounding her.

From what she has shared with us, there are many wheelchairs in the dining room.  There is noise of people clinking their glasses and dishes and silverware.  There is noise from chewing and swallowing.  Conversation happens, but whether it is normal dialogue or a monologue hasn't been determined.  There is light from the open windows which overlook the lake and the grounds.  This is very different than the 'norm' for her, and she doesn't like it.  It is easier for her, and more like normal, to eat in her room.

We noticed on our last visit that the drapes in her room were closed.  I commented on that and concluded that this is what Mom was used to.  Closed drapes. Darkened rooms.  She likes that.  It makes her feel at home.   

She also sat in her room and watched every person who walked by. Often she would wave. Sometimes the person would slow and say hello.  Occasionally one would enter the room for a bit of conversation.  Once again this is what she is used to. It is similar to her watching the traffic outside the window or peeking through the blinds to see what the neighbors across the street, Mr. Rose, or Brian and Melanie were doing. 

One more thing has fallen into place. With the diagnosis of dementia, and the nurse's affirmation that Mom was suffering from severe dementia, our interpretation of Mom's actions can be easier.  Mom isn't just 'being Mom' although sometimes the amount of time that Mom has been doing some of the things makes us wonder just when the disease began to attack her mind.

What this does do, however, is help us understand her actions a little better and be able to respond in ways to help her.  By not insisting that she eat in the dining room, we can avoid upsetting her by agreeing that this is a good idea to enjoy her salad or her wiener, no bun, with mustard in her room.  Maybe the day will come that she decides to join the others in the dining room for lunch, but it has to be her decision, not ours.  Whatever makes her comfortable is what is important.   

We need to remember that this is a disease. It is affecting her mind and her actions.  Our goal is to make her comfortable,  to feel safe, and to enjoy her life as it is.  We can't try to do anything more---or less than that.

April 27 - End of Day Ritual

Today Shauna was discussing 'end of the day' ritual which to her was her workday when she worked at home.  While I did work at home with grading and planning, I did focus on a ritual of sorts when I ended my day on campus.

After I taught my last class, I always sat for a bit in my office, just to collect my thoughts, to unwind, to reflect. Even after a night class I would sit for a few minutes, check my email, click on Facebook, check my phone for messages.  

Before I left my office, I would clean off the desk so that it was ready for the next day, putting away things I had been working on or setting aside projects. Since I didn't share my office with anyone and had my own table and chairs in the middle of the room, I could use it for stacks of things.  A stack of handouts for the next day's classes.  The bag for Rochester.  Stacks of graded  assignments to return.  My bag that I took to class with me.  All of it was organized, for the most part.

Why did I do this?   So I would be ready for the next day.  I liked to walk in and know what I was doing.  I liked to be on top of everything so that my students would know, but more importantly, *I* would know that I had everything under control.

Then I could go home.

The time to drive home was spent in thinking, relaxing, listening to music, and often, trying to stay awake.  Since I would be SO sleepy, especially on the road between Thornhope and Base Road, I must have used that time to really relax to the point of energy draining out of me.   Calling Gary was a good pastime also since he could be sure I would stay awake. 

Even the 'end of the day' ritual was similar while I was teaching at West Central.  Cleaning up the desk. Sorting through papers and putting them in the baskets.  Stacking handouts for the next days.  Organizing.  I liked to keep the room neat and ready for students and whatever the next day's classes would bring.

Then I could go home and on to other things.

The Big Moment -April 26

One of my online Bible Study friends mentioned a devotional book she was reading, Savor: Living Abundently As You Are, Where You Are by Shauna Niequist.  The devotion she posted on our FB group page was really good, thought-provoking, and pertinent to our OBS, so I looked for the book at Barnes and Noble.  I had some money to spend and this seemed like a good choice.

Never have I started a devotional book in April, so this was a new experience.  Today's title was "The Big Moment." She talked about how often we wait for the one big moment which then defines our lives. In reality there are rarely big moments which impact us. Rather there are a series of smaller moments which string together to lead to a more impactful larger moment that stands out.  For instance, graduation with a college degree is a Big Moment.  However that event or accomplishment couldn't be possible without many smaller moments: acceptance into the college, passing a test, completing a class, passing all of the required courses for the program course of study, many hours of study, attending classes, paying for tuition, books, and supplies. Graduation can't happen, and a degree can not be awarded, without those smaller moments that sting together. How true!

Shauna challenged us today to think about today's moments that have been special.  Here goes!

• bacon for breakfast. I have been popping the microwave kind in each morning but today Gary fried real bacon.  The microwave stuff has nothing on the real deal.  It was so good!  
• Meeting Leo for lunch,  just catching up, chatting, and enjoying Chicken Caesar Salad was fun.  We hadn't talked really since the fall Adjunct Orientation.
• Wandering around Walmart, just checking things out for Popsicles, Mucinex, and milk 
• Talking to Deb Mundy, former student who still works as a head cashier at Walmart
• Stopping at Karen's to drop off Amanda's birthday card and sitting in the porch, talking for a while
• Sitting in the sunroom
• Gary telling me to put on my shoes for a walk in the woods
• Hard boiled, then deviled eggs and fresh tomato slices for dinner

Nothing major for Big Moment status but a good day nonetheless.  I'll take it!

The Smell of Rain

I can smell the rain.

Right now.  I can smell it.

Storms are supposed to be coming.   The radar shows them along the southern part of Pulaski County so they really aren't too far away.

Since it is 8:00 p.m., the sun is setting.  Darkness is imminent.  The wind has died down; just  a slight breeze is ruffling through the leaves of the trees along the drive and in the front yard.

No rumblings of thunder yet, just the sound of the breezes through the leaves.

But I do smell the rain. It is coming.  I know it is.

Mark April 25, 2017 on the Calendar!

Woo Hoo!  Gary finished planting corn on Tuesday, April 25, 2017!  This is the earliest he has EVER finished planting corn!!

Ok..now that you have joined in the excitement, there is a side note.  This year he planted just 20 acres of corn---in the field that he and Landon are planting so that Landon can still be farming with Papaw. 

Gary grew up on the family farm.  Over the years his role has changed from just helping with the field work to being a partner with his dad, then taking over the entire farming operation for many years.  The decision was made last summer that the fall would be his final harvest, much to the sadness of his sidekick, our 7 year old grandson.

Landon and Papaw have a very special relationship.  Not only does it bring Gary so much joy but I think it reminds him just a little of the few memories he has of riding in the truck with his own grandfather. 

The goal this week was to work the field on Monday, plant the field on Tuesday. Actually the plan was to work on these two tasks over the weekend when Landon was available, but the ground was too wet to do more than make just a couple of rounds with the disk, which Papaw did with both Landon and Cooper (but Landon actually was able to drive the tractor).

Yesterday when I called Gary from Lafayette, he was frustrated because he was having trouble with the tractor, with the planter, with the process.  My heart just sank because the last things we needed right now were repair bills, delays, and frustrations.  However, he called me during Landon's baseball game and relayed the magic words that every farm wife longs to hear "I finished planting!" and waves of relief flooded over me.

No repair bills because he was able to fix the problems himself.  No frustrations because the fields was finished on schedule and we would be able to leave for the trip to South Carolina with no worries.  Landon 's field was planted and now they would be able to walk out (or drive the pick up) to check the progress, watch for wet ground after rains, and anticipate the harvest in the fall.

Life is good.  And no matter how he looks at it, Gary did finish planting corn on April 25, 2017.

Creating Moments of Joy along the Alzheimer's Journey

My friend Karen is a hospice worker in Alaska.  She is very familiar with patients who suffer from both dementia and Alzheimer's.  Recently she recommended this book by Jolene Brackey to me, and I ordered it for my Kindle.

The contents of the book are divided into sections each with individual small chapters.  The format is a good one for me because I can peruse the titles and select the readings that I think are pertinent for our situation.  Since the tone is conversational, the reading is easy to comprehend and doesn't feel like a 'preaching' or an 'informational' narrative which might be hard to follow.  Instead I find that I am nodding with the author and thinking about similar situations that we have experienced.

The section "Challenging Moments" has been the most helpful so far, mainly because we have been experiencing so many of them with Mom.  Some of them are AHA moments since the type of behavior described has been evident for quite some time; she just hadn't been diagnosed officially and it was frustrating for us to witness the actions, hear the accusations, and be hurt emotionally in the process.

"Blame It on Something Else" was one of those AHA moments.  A section in this chapter was about forgetting appointments.  The scenario was that the daughter/son called the parent several times to remind him/her of an appointment, leaving written notes also, then the parent isn't ready to go or insists that he/she had never been told about the appointment.  This has happened with Mom many times.  It isn't her fault; she just can't remember these things anymore, no matter how many times she was reminded or whether it was written somewhere or not.  She just can't remember.  It's part of the disease.  The reaction from us, as caregivers, shouldn't be one of anger or frustration because the parent doesn't understand the reason for the anger, and it just causes the parent to become more confused or to withdraw because she thinks she has done something wrong.  Instead the best thing to do is to say something like "I must have forgot to tell you, but we can go for ice cream after if you like."  Then the mind of the parent focuses on the ice cream, a special treat, and the frustration level is lowered.

Another good chapter for me was one titled "You Are Wrong..They Are Right."  This one explains so much about many years of communicating with Mom.  We know that she can insist that she is right about EVERYTHING and is never wrong about ANYTHING.  Arguing with her was pointless, and frustrating, and usually ended in anger and hurt feelings  and leaving the house in tears (not her.  Us.)  If she had been diagnosed with dementia earlier (in fact, YEARS earlier) the frustration would have lessened because we would have known how to respond.  Instead of arguing, we should have just agreed and changed the subject.   Or just changed the subject.  There is no point in arguing at this stage of the game.  Who cares really if Grandma told Mom that she needed to leave my house because I was throwing a fit and yelling at everyone when they were helping me move from Monticello to Francesville?  I know that I had moved from Monticello to Francesville before they even visited me;  after all the tornado had ripped through my apartment in April, I moved into the house in Francesville in May, and they didn't visit me until mid-summer because I was in summer school at Purdue.  There was no helping me move.  But it is pointless to argue about it.  She remembers it how she wants to remember it, and really, no one cares.  That was 43 years ago.

The chapter titled "Swearing" rang a bell also.  Three years ago when Mom was so mad at me and Gary when we visited just before Christmas, one thing that we noticed was how much she was swearing.  We commented on the drive home that using four-letter words was very uncharacteristic for her.   At the retirement home Mom often refers to some of the nurses as having  (lowering her voice to a whisper) "Fat asses" and that particular example was used in the chapter.  This could also be the reason why Mom got herself into trouble for calling a Hispanic nurse's aide and a black nurse's aide by derogatory terms.  Their sense of proper and discreet language is gone and there are no filters.

This book is a good one because the situations described are so similar to ones that we are experiencing with Mom.  The suggestions for our responses are spot on as well.  Some of the things Gary and I have already practiced with her, so it was good to know that we are on target with our interactions with her.

Alzheimer's and dementia are tough diseases for the patient and for the family.  I am thankful for my friend, Karen, who knew just what I needed to read to help me through this journey.

Clothes, Clothes, and More Clothes

I have been resisting cleaning out my closets.  I think I have too many clothes, too much stuff, and I need to donate to Goodwill.  Some of it just doesn't fit anymore; other articles are out of style.  But mostly since I have retired, I don't have the need for some of the clothes that are hanging there.  I am more of a jeans type of girl, and I like tops to go with them.  The dressier items I could wear to church, but I have so many 'teaching' outfits and no teaching to do. But I have put it off.  Why?   What if I need something that is hanging there?  What if I find myself looking for a tan sweater and realize that I gave it away, then I feel bad?  Well, that sounded like a lame excuse, because I could just pick out something else to wear.  Duh! 

What I am getting to is this.  I thought Gary and I had a lot of clothes.  Yesterday my perception changed greatly.

We worked on the clothes at his folks' house.  Sandy, Megan, Gary, and I started around 9:30-10:00 a.m. and began moving clothes to the bed in the front room.  Megan and I removed the hangars and started to make piles - some ready for bags, some for Karen to look at later, some that we wanted to keep, some went into the living room for one of us to take home.  A pile started building for Mike's things, and Gary tried on a few sports coats. I removed Lions pins from lapels and checked pockets for leftover items, adding them to a growing pile of little pamphlets picked up at funeral homes and programs from weddings.

Hilary and the kids arrived to help, then we stopped for lunch around noon.  Soon after that Karen stopped by after work, and the emptying of closets and drawers continued.

When all was finished, we had plastic bags piled in the living room, a bag of size medium clothes to take to Mom in the retirement home, a bag in our car plus several suits and sports coats for Gary to try on again, a bag for Sandy, a bag for Karen, a bag to keep for Mike, several items for Clay's mom, and a stack of Christmas sweatshirts to keep.  The girls took some Grandma sweatshirts too.  We also have two bags of wire hangers to give to Goodwill.

The plan is to fill the Escape with bags on Monday evening for me to take to Lafayette on Tuesday and drop off at Goodwill or Salvation Army.  Then on Tuesday Karen will load up her Jeep with more bags and take them to Logansport.

Parting with some of the clothes was difficult.  There was a vest that Agnes always wore with a tan blouse and jeans, especially when she went to the fair.  The black lace dress with the white lace overlay long jacket was a special memory from when Leo was District 25A Governor in Lions.  They were quite the stunning couple with her in black and white and him in his white dinner jacket and black pants.  That dress went home with Sandy.  There was a World Beef Expo jacket with her name on it and one with his also.   We kept those.   There were many jackets that Agnes wore for meetings and events, a red one with black pants,  a yellow and black plaid.  There was a black sweater with an attached white collar and cuffs that she liked to wear for the layered look.  As Karen and Sandy sifted through the items, often I would hear, "I remember this one" or "Didn't Mom look nice in this?" 

But the thing that struck me the most as the amount of clothes! Oh my!  I thought Gary and I had so many clothes---but we really don't!  I know I have sifted through them, sorted, purged, given bags to Goodwill, which has been a good thing.  Maybe the generation that Leo and Agnes grew up in didn't want to part with items because, just in case, they might need them again.  I imagine Agnes could go right to a specific closet and find that black and white dress she wore to match Leo's white dinner jacket.  Maybe it was sentimental for them too.  The Lions events were a big part of their lives and they really enjoyed socializing, traveling, and the friendships.  It would be hard to part with so many of the clothes associated with those events as well as family trips and memories, like the World Beef Expo, the Medaryville Potato Fest, and trips to see Mike and family.

One other thing that hit me was this: with six of us working, it took all day to sort carry clothes from upstairs to downstairs, pull things off the hangars, sort, and bag.  Thinking of that process with my mom's clothes (and many of Dad's clothes are still in the closets also) is overwhelming.  I hope Megan and Hilary will be there to help also.  It will be a long process!

So many clothes.  So many memories.

Since August 19.....

You know, I have been hitting so many 'firsts' since August 19.  

First vacation trip in September. 

First time to help Gary harvest in many years.

First time I actually made Christmas gifts (always had good intentions which never happened).

First time to go on a trip longer than a week.

First time to go on a cruise.

First time to go on a trip in early May (that one hasn't happened yet).

There has also been the 'more time for...' list.

More time for Landon, Tessa, Cooper, and Owen.

More time for lunches with friends.

More time for reading something that I didn't have to teach.

More time for quilting.

More time for knitting.

More time for spending time with family.

More time to prepare for holidays and entertaining.

Plus there have been the 'if I were still teaching, I wouldn't have been able to...' list.

I wouldn't have been able to help care for my dear mother-in-law during her hospice care.

I wouldn't have been able to spend several days at a time in Wooster visiting Mom, taking her to appointments, and cleaning out spoiled food and outdated stacks of magazines and newspapers.

I wouldn't have been able to help Gary with harvest, moving equipment, taking his folks to doctors' appointments, and now mowing.

But what has hit me the most the last few days has been this.

I am really enjoying spring.

Spring is my very favorite season. 

I love the sunshine, the flowering trees, the daffodils and tulips, the lilac bushes, the irises.  

I love the buds popping out on the trees.  

I love the green grass and the smell when it is mowed. 

I love the warm breeze and the puffy white clouds in the blue sky. 

I love seeing the birds hopping around the yard and hearing them wake up first thing in the morning. 

I love sitting in the sunroom and watching the day awaken. 

I love the promise of a summer ahead with outdoor activities, open windows, and campfires and picnics.

For many years, my entrance into spring was punctuated with end of school activities - field trips, senior awards night, prom, finals, research papers to grade, final grades to finish, graduation, and more than 30 open houses to attend.  Add Mother's Day, my birthday, Memorial Day, make up snow days, and the May calendar was always full.  Usually by the second week of June the final remnants of leaves would be raked, the impatiens and marigolds would be planted, and we could settle into summer by the Fourth of July, after which it seemed like Back to School ads began.  

After leaving West Central and moving to Ivy Tech, May opened up with a three week break!  Glorious!  I could now rake and plant and spruce up in May before returning to campus after Memorial Day for the summer semester.  If the weather cooperated and the planting were finished, Gary and I could leave for a few days, enjoying some spots before the deluge of families hit the vacation trail.

But now.  It is April 20.  I have raked leaves out of places where leaves have not been raked for many years.   Flower beds are clear (except for two) and hostas are beginning to look like just that - hostas.  Tulips are blooming where I had forgotten they were planted  (because they are usually covered with leaves).  The yard has been mowed twice already.  The air is warm.  The sun is shining.  The exterior of the house looks good.  The flower beds are ready to be planted.

I think this has been one of the best 'because I am now retired' moments for me.  I can DO these things because I am not teaching.  Going outside after breakfast to work in the yard usually is just a dream because a stack of argument papers always are waiting for me, and they never did grade themselves!  Not anymore! It felt SO good to mow today, to pull that yucky green cover junk out of the daffodils and from around the rocks (four trash cans full of that green stuff and leaves today).  Raindrops fell from the sky just before I came in, a warm splash of moisture that dotted my t-shirt, the truck, and the bricks on the sidewalk leading to the patio.  Loved it!

Many changes have happened since August 19, the last time I walked into Ivy Tech Community College in Logansport as English faculty and walked out as a retired Associate Professor.  Have there been regrets?  None.  Do I miss it?  Not really.  I miss people, but those I care about and who have cared about me are still in touch.  We text, we meet for lunch, we send emails.  Do I miss teaching?  The actual teaching - sometimes.  The prep work, loading documents into Blackboard, grading papers, checking grades, arguing about missed work and late assignments?  Not. One. Bit.   I spent 43 years in the classroom and met so many great, and a few not-so-great, people. I touched lives, and their lives touched mine.  But it is time to move on to new adventures.  

Enjoying spring is one of them!

Final Days of Zip It!

Well,  I did it!  I finished the book, Zip It! by Karen Ehman.  It was a suggested study for Lent.  Instead of giving up sweets or Diet Pepsi or watching television or posting on Facebook, the focus was on limiting the words we say and streamlining our thought processes to really think about what we say, how we say the words, and how we react to the words we hear.  My track record on finishing Online Bible Studies or devotional books is not good, but it IS getting better.  This is one I can add to my "FINISHED!" list.    Now granted, I may not have read one devotion each of the 40 days, but I did read #40 on the last day before Easter.  A few days I had to read two or three to catch up, or read a couple ahead during the course of a day, such as when we were on the cruise, but I did finish the lat week with the last set of devotions, one each day.

Through the study I learned several things:

1.  I need to think more before I speak.  I need to select my words carefully and think about the presentation of those words, how I say them, the tone that I use. 

2.  Words have a lasting effect; they are remembered.  They can't be taken back.  Even if someone says 'Oh just kidding' he/she had to think that particular thought first; otherwise it wouldn't have popped out of the mouth.  So 'kidding' doesn't really take the hurt away.  I will never forget a passage that a girl wrote in my autograph book in 7th grade that was really hurtful.  I never felt the same about that girl after that, I couldn't be friend with her, and it affected my entire high school circle of friends.  Today she and I are Facebook friends, and I am fairly sure that she doesn't remember writing what she did and how hurtful it was, but I remember.  Every time I see one of her posts or see her name next to a LIKE on something I have posted, I think about that line in my autograph book years ago.  Hurtful words that have never been erased from my memory.

3.  We can control how we react to the words spoken to us.  This relates, I guess, to what I wrote in #2, but it is a little different.  Today as an adult I still have 'soft skin' so hurtful things said to me do just that, they hurt.  But I can control how I react to those.  I can let them bounce off.  I can focus on my perception of the incident or the event or the subject or topic.  I can think about why the person would make such a remark and, maybe to sound a little trite, 'consider the source.' Sometimes hurtful things are said to make the speaker feel better about himself/herself.  Sometimes there are extenuating circumstances which make the speaker feel threatened or ill at ease.  There could be a myriad of reasons for some remarks, none of which have anything to do with the circumstance or with me.  Knowing what is right and true about myself is the key to NOT allowing those words to hurt me.

Even though I drifted a bit from the true messages from in Zip It!, the application to real life is there.  And that is the point, isn't it, when we read devotional books?  Apply it to our lives and grow from that application.

And that is what I am doing.

Shaking My Head....

My blog is not about politics and I won't engage in arguments about politics.  But I have to shake my head at three things that I saw on FB this morning.

One was a post about President Trump's news conference and how the person who posted the link liked what he said.  The comment was from one who stated that he would like to know what Trump REALLY thought instead of reading all of his comments off the teleprompter.  My take on this is that Trump is not the first President who has used a teleprompter to read his daily messages or his comments.  Even I, an English teacher who taught in the classroom for 43 years, needed a handwritten script when I spoke at an awards program or a PTK event.  Just the possibility of forgetting a word or using the wrong word was enough for my need of a script.  Maybe a President needs the same thing - a written focus to be sure he says what he needs to say using the words he wants to use.  He isn't the first to use one.  Obama did also.

One was a shared post that appeared on a FB page of a friend.  It stated that every year of Obama's presidency, he and his family attended Easter services yet Trump had not been in a church since he was inaugurated and did not attend Easter services.  Why weren't the GOPs fussing about THAT?  So I googled it.  What did I find?  An article from a Florida newspaper, with pictures, showing President and Mrs. Trump attending Easter services in the same church in Palm Beach where they were married and where they worship when they are in town.  The article discussed the greeting time, how people would stop on their way to communion to say hello, and how they left before the service ended.  Then the article detailed their day with the Easter egg hunt and finally they boarded Air Force One to return to Washington.

The third one will wait...hair appt. to to go.

And the third one...a copy of a post that I saw shared several times by friends on FB.


I know that Presidents are scrutinized as are all public figures.  I know that when one is a public servant, opens his/her mouth in public, or talks to people, that the words are scrutinized and remembered.  But most of the scrutiny I have noticed over the last three months has been exactly as this person indicated.  Hateful.  Insulting.  Malicious.  There is no reason for that kind of treatment.

I am not a big fan of Donald Trump.  But no matter what one believes or how one voted, he IS the President and his wife IS the First Lady.  That is the way it is.  When we as a country continue to show disrespect to our highest elected official, that disrespect reflects on all of us as Americans, and it saddens me.  Why has our country come to this?

As I said, this is not a political blog, and I don't intend to argue about politics.  I am just shaking my head about the attitudes and accusations that seem to be running rampant in our country today.  

Another Blessing of Retirement

For years the yard work at our house was done in late May or early June. Why?  Because April was full of birthdays and Easter, then May was full of Mother's Day, prom activities, grading research papers, end of year evening activities, and graduation.  Finally after all of that ended, it was time to clean the flower beds, rake the last remnants of leaves, and plant flowers.  Finally the yard was beginning to look presentable for the spring/summer months. And let's face it.  Sometimes much of it just didn't happen because of sewing for 4-H, walking calves in the evenings, and teaching two nights each week for Purdue.

Retirement from West Central and employment at Ivy Tech changed that somewhat.  Now the month of May was fairly open and some of those clean-up duties could be completed on warm spring days.  But then there were interruptions with Gary needing help in the field or with moving equipment from place to place, pre-school VBS and either Landon or Tessa visiting for the week, and Mother's Day plus graduation open houses to attend.  Plus I tried to volunteer at church during May, and it was my month to prepare communion, since I didn't contribute much the rest of the year.  But I did make a respectable effort with clean up and planting flowers. Usually flowers and mulch were  in place (or gone in the case of leaves) by Memorial Day weekend.

Since retirement from Ivy Tech, our days, weeks, and months have been filled with many activities and a few trips.  We keep busy.  We returned from the trip to Birmingham, the cruise to Mexico, and the days in New Orleans on March 28 and immediately spent two days with Cooper followed by three days with Landon, Tessa, and Owen with a couple of  'down days' to catch up on laundry and other things.  The next week was more of the same with time with the kids (not complaining- loved all of it!).  Then Megan's birthday was April 8, a Saturday, and she wanted to go to the Indianapolis Zoo.  All of us (except Matt who had a double header that day) piled into two vehicles, traveled to Indy, explored the zoo, dined at the Cheesecake Factory, and shopped at Babies R Us and Bye Bye Baby.   Lots of fun with everyone that day.

Sunday after church we drove to Wooster and spent the evening cleaning off shelves in the pantry.  More exploded cans. More expired dates.  We quickly filled two cans with trashed food.  Next we checked out the yard and picked up sticks for the compost pile and tore apart a decaying wooden barrel to add to the trash for Monday morning.   Monday morning was spent running errands (Kohls, Walmart, Rubbermaid store) then we visited Mom for 3.5 hours.  Tuesday morning we delivered some Depends to Mom's room (from her stash in the bedroom), visited with her for a short time, then left to make the trip home.  It was a quick trip there, but it accomplished what was needed - a check on Mom and more clean out of the fruit cellar.

Today was the final "blessing of retirement."  All of those aforementioned activities couldn't have happened had I still been teaching.  Neither would today's outdoor experiences.  Gary mowed, and I don't think he has ever made the first rounds this early.  I started by raking out the excess leaves in the front flower beds.  Not too much to do, just a little clean up work.   Then I tackled the front of the house.  Now this was a challenge.  Rarely am I able to actually remove leaves along the foundation because the bushes are already leafed out and the hostas are up too high.  Today, however, the rake was busy and the clippers were fast to remove little spurts of growth that were already attaching themselves to the stone. Many sticks from the yard made their way into the barrel also.

The next area was in the lilac bushes.  I started with the one at the end of the sidewalk by the hot tub and trimmed out so many new spurts of growth that I was able to clean the leaves out rather quickly.  The big lilac bushes by the drive were another story.  Most of my efforts in the past have had less than stellar results with only the leaves around the edges of that area making it to the burn pile.  Today, however, everything was moved.  Old mower blades, empty cans, used flower pots - all pitched.  More clipping of growth that wasn't needed and more raking.  The flower bed under the sunroom windows?  Cleaned.  Along the bed behind the garage?  Cleaned along the edge but not within. I was running out of steam.  The bed by the outhouse.  Much of the green growth of cover weeds is gone along with the spiny stuff left over from the fall flowers.

Now I am sore.  Tired. Achy.  My knees hurt.  My feet hurt.  My arms ache.  But when I look outside, I feel great!

Only because I retired was I able to spend so much time outside today, cleaning up and getting ready for Easter.  Only because Gary isn't farming this spring was he able to help me and to mow.

Both of us worked hard for a long time.  Both of us commented the other day that we are losing track of which day it is and that we (really just I) don't dread Mondays. I don't think on Sundays about the coming week and whether I am prepared or not, and most importantly, feel like I have lost my chance to do what I want to do, just because I have to teach (which meant grading in the evenings and on weekends).   We have more time with the littles.  We have more time to visit with Megan and Hilary and families.  We have more time to DO what we want to do.  And we are happy.

Life is good.  We are blessed!

 

When To Be Silent and When To Speak Up

This section of Zip It has a great title, doesn't it?  Have you seen the saying on FB to the effect that we don't really listen to actually hear what is being said, but we just listen to respond?  That happens frequently, and I know I am guilty of doing just that.  I am hearing what the person is saying, then my mind skips to what I am going to say in response, sometimes even interrupting the speaker just to interject my own knowledge of the topic.  I do that.  Others do that.  No one escapes this.

But silence?  Why is that so hard?

I wrote about Day 26 the other day, our assumptions and speaking at inappropriate times when silence would be a better option.

Day 27's title was "When You Know Better: It's Time to be Silent."

This is a hard one.  Part of us wants to be right, we want to have the last word.  We do.  But sometimes an argument is hopeless.  Often the topic really isn't worth arguing about, or the other participant is stubborn and bull-headed and won't change his/her mind.  Then it is better to just walk away.

When I was growing up, and even as an adult, Mom would argue with us frequently.  We would be sucked into an argument and not even know it happened.  Then when we would try to retreat or walk away, she would throw out the "Yes.  Just walk away.  You know I'm right!" and that would draw us back in again to defend our opinions (or sometimes facts that we knew were correct that she just didn't 'get') and the argument would escalate once again.  Of course Mom never apologized to anyone (because why should she? she was never wrong), she would never forgive (why should she---holding grudges is something she does best) and Mom probably remembers every argument she has ever had in her life.

But now I realize that it IS better just to walk away, or to avoid the argument altogether.  Lately I have been on the edge of spurting out something that might incite some hurt feelings or spark some ill will or controversy.  Stopping myself, thinking about it, and keeping my mouth shut has been very beneficial for me.  I guess I have been learning from this Bible study!  A month ago I may have voiced some of my thoughts and incited some controversies.  Better to not do that!

Takeaways from Day 27 -

--Choose better.  When in an argument, silence statements better left unsaid.  If we know better than to say something, we must choose better.

--Talk to Jesus instead of arguing with others.  Ask Him to guide our words or help us to keep silent.

Day 28 - "When You Can Help (and there is nothing in it for you): It's Time to Speak Up"

coming back to this one - Owen is wreaking havoc on the living room