Returned to Standard

It was nice to have light this morning as Jenna and I walked to the bus stop.  I usually don’t see it until after Jenna and I have parted ways and I start heading back to catch a return bus to West Valley.

We were supposed to set the clocks back on Saturday night – but forgot.  We got up at our usual time on Sunday – thinking we had slept in, but hadn’t.  Jenna asked me what happened to all the clocks.

Hopefully this will be the last time we have to adjust our clocks and the majority of voters who want to do away with daylight savings times will get our way.

I do enjoy seeing where I’m going in the morning.  In December it will be dark again.

I notice there are trees that still haven't turned and just as many that are bare now.  Perhaps that will make for a longer fall like we had last year.

Daylight or Standard: Let’s just keep it at one

            Would it be possible to just forego our changing the clocks every six months and just do away with the whole daylight/standard thing?  Go with one or the other, but enough is enough with the falling back and springing ahead.  Daylight savings was created long before the modern technologies that we enjoy today.  From the Wikipedia map it appears that most countries no longer practice.  So why do we?  Is one hour really going to make a difference?

            I remember several times (when I was working downtown) catching the bus in the dark and the cold.  It would be dark when I left the house.  It would be dark when I came home.  What difference does it make if those 5-8 hours of light happen between 9:00 and 5:00 or 7:00 to 2:00? I was at work.  I missed the daylight – except when I passed a window.  Big whoop.  It’s not like it had a great impact on my ability to see.

            I think if our nation were to vote on the whether to continue with it (or at least in this state) or not, we could do without it.  I know several people who would be a lot happier.   

Another Look at Change

            Mom embellished on her “sky-diving” story – a bit with the realization that jumping out of an airplane is something she would never do.  In this version it was from a commercial airline with mechanical problems.  Mom said she didn’t want to, but it was the crew that had forced all of the passengers to jump.

          Harold told his story about going up in a stunt plane that did loop-to-loops.  They had fastened video cameras to each wing and had one in the cockpit.  This filmed every move that was made and then the three films were spliced together.  Harold said he had it on video tape.  But that it does tend to make most people sick when they watch it because it’s like being there.

            Corey had explained to the family that there are seven stages of dementia and that mom is in stage five.  I’m guessing Madge must only be in one or two.  Maybe it was her idea to check herself in so that she would get used to the place – so her children wouldn’t have to go through what we have gone through – to the same degree.  I don’t know.  I’d still like to have a visit with Madge and ask her questions that are actually none of my business.

            Nellie is a brand new residence.  I’m thinking she is in stage 6 as she seems further gone than mom but not as far gone as Lydia or Georgette.  Harold may just be in stage 4 and maybe starting stage 5 but I don’t know.  I’m really not as familiar with dementia as perhaps I should be.

            Corey has always been a walking encyclopedia.  I don’t know that he has an actual photographic memory, but I think it’s close.  He’s really well read.  He constantly researches matters at hand.  I think his brain holds more information than the average human being.

            The other day I joined my mom and my brother, Patrick, his wife, Sunny and their son-in-law, Nate for a pioneer barbeque.  We crowded around an outside table with mom and Harold.  I ended up giving him my plate and went back for another one as I thought it would be easier.

            Food was good.  Company was good.  The plate I had made for myself was really too large for Harold. It’s a wonder he ate as much as he did.

            After lunch had ended, we said our good-byes to Nate, Patrick and Sunny.  I told mom I would go back to her room to visit with her some more, but first I had to run out to the car for something.

           Upon my return, Nellie clung onto me.  “Are you almost ready to go?” she asked.  She was asking as though she was expecting to go with me.

           “Well, I came here to see my mom.”  I told her, wondering where her family might be and if I actually resembled someone she knows. 

          I made my way back to the court yard with Nellie only inches behind me. 

           “How are you doing Nellie” I heard someone say. 

           I hadn’t actually known what her name was until then.  I introduced her to mom and Harold and asked if they were all acquainted.  None were and Harold and mom didn’t seem interested in the least.  Actually, neither did Nellie.  She was anxious to be leaving – I don’t think she even cared who with. But then she would also stop at each chair and sit down as her back was hurting her.

Her personality screamed volumes that she was a resident there.  I hadn’t remembered seeing her before I didn’t think.  I hadn’t.  As it turned out she had just moved in the day before. My mom all over again.  Confused at being there and trying to escape.

I think Nellie is in worse shape than my mom.  But Harold seems a little more with it in the mind. Maybe not.  I think mom and Harold’s stories were both a little out there when I was visiting the time before.

It’s interesting to look at Madge and think, “My mom was there at one time.” And then to look disheartened upon Lydia and Georgette and think, “and that is where she will be someday”

Her rapid movement from stage to stage doesn’t seem as rapid since she’s been at an assisted living program and is monitored from day to day and has a better schedule there than the four of us were trying to provide for her at home.

Dementia stages are a chiasmus to our birth to death.  We start out totally dependent.  Someone else has to feed us and change our clothes and bathe us and clean up after us. 

We learn to walk and talk and learn and collect things.  We make discoveries.  But still we need guidance to keep us safe – someone to make certain that eat, reminding us to put on our coats and shoes, and stop us from climbing or wandering near something that could be potentially dangerous to our health.

Eventually we grow into teenagers who think they know it all and don’t wish to be told what to do.  We would like our independence and treat guidance like interference.  We still need someone to teach us how to drive, save money, make wise choices, etc.

The older we grow, the wiser our parents become – until we are the caregivers due to dementia.  Their wise words are only memories and may somehow be twisted in their heads.  Eventually they go through stages.  They rebel.  They hoard.  Sometimes they wander into danger.

Eventually they forget how to walk and talk.  They forget.  They become like newborns and are dependent on someone else to feed them, clothe them, bathe them and make sure they are kept safe.

Full Circle

thoughts concerning mom and Tony

Yesterday I took mom to the hairdresser.

She said it was nice to see her hairdresser again as she hadn’t seen her for a long time . . . which she hadn’t.

As I drove her back to where she lives, she kept on asking who it was that had fixed her hair.

At Alpine Ridge she was greeted like a celebrity.  Everybody LOVED her hair.

She had to check the mirror again as she couldn’t remember.

“Who fixed my hair?” she asked again.

There was a noise coming from the next room.

The noise reminded me of a single bowling lane. 

Mom said she didn’t think that’s what it was.

Well, I knew that! That’s just what the sound reminded me of.

Mom tells me about the woman in the room next to hers.

Apparently they were the first two to live there.  No, not live.  They worked.  But Helen is getting slower.  She has . . .  well, she has . . .  she’s just slowing down.

“You’re all slowing down,” I thought..

Mom couldn’t remember the word “dementia”

Tony and Rochelle have been visiting.

They have to spread their time between two families.

They don’t always show within the hour that Tony says they will.

Usually not within the first four.

It’s not Tony’s fault.  But it is hard to make plans.

Plans for pictures and photographer.

I had made plans.  But Tony said there was a change.

So I decided that we would try again in February.

Evidently I hurt Tony’s feelings. I didn’t mean to.

They may have been on time at the park

But as they’d been wandering around, we didn’t actually see them until later.

But it wasn’t four hours later. 

But still – I can’t make plans for everybody.

I can only remind them.

I think Sunny was disappointed.  But I can’t count on Tony and Rochelle showing up on time.

And we’ve already had one family picture without Randy. 

Tony allowed himself to feel offended.  He’s trying to blame me for my comment.

And maybe I was out of line – but I also know he is hurting because there is truth in my comment.

We’ll do family pictures on Memorial Day – when Tony and Rochelle are back in Texas

But Corey and Joh will be here.  And so will my uncle.  My mother’s baby brother.  He is coming to see her.  That will be nice.  Tony and Rochelle may never meet him.  Well, not in this earth life anyway.

Corey seems more interested in family history now than he has ever been.

He particularly would like to have more information on my dad’s maternal side. 

I told him to ask our former neighbor.  Funny how George Bird would know more about our family than we do.  But his dad used to hang out with our great uncle.

I may be watching Ester this morning.  Or maybe not.  Tony may not want to leave her if he is upset.  I also volunteered to watch Anna and Garrett tonight.  If I have them all at the same time, perhaps I can get pictures of the four that I couldn’t get together in the park.  They won’t be professional like Bill’s would be.  It’s a little overcast thus far.  I may have to take pics indoors.  If I have them.  I haven’t even taken Jenna to school yet.  It’s a short day.  I forgot to mention that to Tony and Rochelle.

Spontaneous People Don’t Plan

Mom has always taught her children how to be supportive of one another.  We’ve gone to baby blessings, missionary farewells and homecomings, advancement in the priesthood, plays, sports; I suppose I went to more events when I was single.

Sunny is awesome.  She always lets us know ahead of schedule: We’ve got this planned.  Please come.  And we have.  We make plans to fit it into our schedule.  And then there’s my family . . .

It’s got to be hard to be one of my siblings if they want to be involved but aren’t given much notice for birthday celebrations, graduations, parties – even our own wedding.

 I can’t find the post, but I think I wrote it down somewhere that Roland and I changed our wedding date at least nine times.  It wasn’t that big of an issue for me in the beginning.  After all we had met only three days before he proposed.  THAT IS OUTRAGEOUS! 

I have chosen not to go into detail at this time – but perhaps some time in a future post – but we had changed our wedding date several times before I asked the bishop one Sunday morning if he could just marry us either that night or the next.  So everyone (including the groom) who was invited to our wedding was given only eight hours notice (or less) and everyone we had invited came.

But my family has missed out on at least two of Biffs’ birthday parties.  I just don’t ever know his schedule until that week (at best) perhaps we set a bad example by getting married the way we did.  For the boys don’t plan (although two of them married girls who did) they just say, “Hey” or “By the way”

So went Biff’s party last night.  I was really hoping we could do family pictures, but Tony and Rochelle have been visiting her family.  I realize they have other commitments and are short on time.  And I don’t know what time zone their clock is set to – but they are usually always 4-5 hours behind what we were told.  Except yesterday . . .

Evidently they made it to the park on time – but not the parking lot where I said to meet.  They walked around for an hour I guess before they thought to call.

Jenna’s been putting her life on hold for Tony, the same way Randy still puts his life on hold waiting for Roland.  Not me.  I have always told my boys, “I’m leaving at such and such a time.  If you’re here, you may go with me.  You’re not here, you don’t go or you find another way.”

Randy learned early on that I was serious about a definite time.  But only when someone else has planned.  I’ve tried to plan.  But it is so hard when those you live with still don’t.

Another Guilty Pleasure

We haven’t always had cable – cancelled due to lack of finances – we’ve even cancelled the Internet.  I was okay with going to the library, but Roland wasn’t.  And now that he’s taking classes through the Internet – dropping the Internet would just frustrate him even more.

When so many stations were converted to HD and even the local channels needed some kind of box or connection, it seems like we always had TVland.  For a while it was our primary source of entertainment.  That, and going to the library for offered programs and to check out DVDs.

The station has added original programs including a reality show called “ForeverYoung”. The advertisements intrigued me, but I hadn’t watched it when it initially debuted.  But I did check it out yesterday. I was laughing so hard at watching these two (obviously) generations try and communicate.  Having lived between the two, I understand the frustration of the other – also having had to experience it myself.

Jenna is often asking, “Did they have such and such when you were little?” 

“Yes, we had Fisher Price people.  They weren’t made of plastic, they were made of wood.  They were smaller than what is offered now. “

“No we did not have iPods.  We didn’t even have CD’s.  We had phonographs and walkmans.

“No we did not have DVD’s.  I don’t recall the VCR coming out until I was a teenager.”

“Yes. We had cracker jacks.  But they offered cool prizes back then – well, at least compared to the lame prize that comes with cracker jacks today”

“No, we did not use slates back then.  We used paper. How old do you think I am?”

“There was an Electric Company.  But it didn’t come out until after Corey was born. It was different from what you watch today” (I had actually checked out a DVD from the library not realizing it was from the ‘70’s.  She couldn’t stand it)

She is far more superior at modern technology than I am.  She has found things on my phone that I didn’t even know existed.  She prefers Roland’s phone with his touch screen.  Roland is older than me and seems comfortable using his cell phone, but I hate it.  I actually have small fingers (one of the few parts of my body I can still refer to as small) but put me in front of a touch screen and they become clumsy fat hot dogs.  I can never find where I need to go and get so frustrated in trying to do so.

I appreciate the GPS – and the one that we had was not complicated and much easier to use than the map.  But I have used street maps before.  I must admit that I have texted messages – but it annoys me to go through each letter at a time – I’d much rather have a keyboard.  I do own a cell phone but started out dialing a rotary. 

I haven’t been on roller blades – but I know what they are.  I also remember the old time roller skate that fit over the shoe.  I owned several pairs of shoes with marks left from the roller skate that I used to glide around in my parents’ unfinished basement.

I’m actually too young to remember the car seat that my parents used vs. the ones that are out today.  Mine hung over the seat – front seat.  Mine was yellow.  It did not have the cool steering wheel feature built into it.  There was no car seat law that I know of.  Often the cars themselves didn’t come with safety belts for the driver – let alone the passengers.

I remember black and white television and a very limited amount of channels selection.  I remember life without Sesame Street and Sesame Street without Elmo.  In fact, I remember the original cast featured only four human beings.  And I remember three different Gordons. I can remember that Sesame Street did not explain Mr. Hooper’s death until a year after the fact.

I remember the world before computers made their way into just about every home.  I remember the ancient television sized monitors unlike the flat screens of today. I remember the manual typewriter and the cool features of the new electric ones.  

I remember cameras that required film.

I do like this “Forever Young” reality show that introduces “bridging the gap” and demonstrating that we really can learn from one another regardless of age.

Weeding out the Red-Rooted Bastard

          I once heard the following about an elderly woman with a very nice garden.  Someone had asked how she maintained without weeds.  She had set a goal to pull 15 a day.  I’m guessing she didn’t have to deal with pigweed.

          I actually have two nicknames for the weed that springs back to life the minute it is pulled.  The more offensive name mentioned in the title of this post and “Rapunzel” – though I think it grows much faster than Rapunzel’s hair.  But unlike Rapunzel’s hair, there is absolutely nothing special about it.  It’s a weed.  A multiplying undying weed.

          I will pull them up by their roots.  I will have a tremendous pile of these red-rooted pigweeds – more outside of the garden than inside.  It seems for every one I’ve pulled at least four to seven have grown back in its place.  How am I supposed to keep up with that?  And if we don’t pull them now while they are sprouts, they will be much harder to pull.

          When we moved into this house, there was a large tree growing near the house.  The neighbors’ driveway was starting to crack as the roots were pushing into the foundation.  She called it a trash tree and said it needed to be removed. The stump still remains in our yard and thus we haven’t seen the roots attached.  I’m certain that they are red (or were – it’s possible that they have died off by now)

          When I first saw the pigweed sprout up, I was certain that they were/are daughters of the trash tree – that could have been something else.  Whatever it was it wasn’t intentionally planted.  It just grew there and made a mess.

          I remember hearing the Biblical stories of Joshua defeating different cities with the instruction and help of our God.  They had to kill babies.  Little babies.  Innocent babies.  That bothered me for the longest time – because all babies are born innocent.  Even Hitler (no matter how hard to believe) was born innocent.  And yet that would have been the best time to get him – drop him, strangle him, drown him . . .

          There are so many films and themes and movies devoted to time travel.  What if?  What if we could save Kennedy?  What if we could destroy Hitler before he even knew what power was?

          One show depicts the midwife taking the baby and throwing it in the river.  Mrs. Hitler is devastated and insists that the child is replaced.  A kidnapped baby is brought to her that she may raise him as her own.  She calls him Adolf.

          And no matter how often the attempt to save him is made, Pres. Kennedy always ends up getting killed.  It has already happened.  Though the idea of traveling back in time to save him is appealing, it does not exist.  He died at the hands of whom?  Lee Harvey Oswald?  A conspiracy perhaps?

          When I think of the weeds and the time traveling non-changes, it makes it easier to understand and accept scriptures like Joshua 6:21.   

Compromising Values & Sacrificing Balance

      
         None of us have been given more time in any given day or week or month or year.  None of us have more than 24 hours to spare in each day or more than seven days in any given week.  Some people have the gift of budgeting their time wisely.  Some people are better at prioritizing.  Some people know how to compromise their time.  Some people haven’t a clue.

          Each of us has priorities and circumstances and situations that are unique to our own individual lives.  Often we will include others in the time that we have given.  Often we do things by choice – sometimes by situation or circumstance.  It’s amazing how there are some who can utilize their time to the fullest while others get swallowed up and lost with the short amount of time that they have.

          I would personally like to experience a sense of balance equally – perhaps leaning more to a larger chunk devoted to my family and less to the business – which would be null if there weren’t bills to pay.

          There’s some who have become doctors, actors/actresses, military personal and what have you.  Often careers will take precedence over the family (depending on the individual) whether intentional or not. 

          And then there are unplanned circumstances such as law suits, failing health, sudden deaths or jury duty that certainly don’t fit into our already full agendas.  So we are still making sacrifices – perhaps more often with those unexpected situations.

          There have been recent posts on my facebook home page that have been made from the hospital.  One has a child whose lungs are not working correctly.  One has a son who’s been in and out of hospitals since the day that he was born. He’s had MRI’s and other treatments.  Each time they celebrate a birthday with him, they wonder if it will be his last.

          We also have health news about a young father who has been in the hospital for a week now.  Descriptions of his flushed skin make it sound as though he is close to death’s door. 

          And then I see pictures posted by those on prestigious vacations.  It seems so unfair.  They are spending huge amounts of money while so many others struggle.  But again, I don’t know what sacrifices they have made to get there – or will make.

          Some of us drop what we’re doing to aid our family members, while others put in long hours just to meet expenses or to honor written contracts or just to be away from family. 

          So what makes us happy?  Our families?  Our careers?  Certainly not watching a love one suffer due to illness or accident.  But is there comfort in our presence?  Each person deals with pain in a different way.  And what may be painful to others might not be so painful to somebody else.

          Take death for instance.  My family members have dealt with death many times.  Most have been expected or non-surprising rather, while some have come on sudden.  They have been friends, neighbors, co-workers or family members.  Some we have known well.  Others we’ve only been acquainted with.  But our attitude towards the death itself is pretty much the same.  It happens. We must move on.  And we do.

          Some people are surprised at just how quickly we move on.  It’s a choice.  It’s knowledge.  There is no reason to dwell on what “might have been” or stop living for ourselves because we can’t get past our mourning state.  It happens.

         

          Money, like time, needs to be prioritized.  We need structure and balance in our life.  We need to decide what is most important to us and at what cost.  If we are wise and prayful, maybe one day we really can have it all.