It's easy to forget that one of my grannie clients has some memory problems. She can be so sharp, so with it, and downright "hip," that the need for respectful vigilance can slip my mind.
This past weekend, she was using a ladies' room in an unfamiliar supermarket in a village some distance from her home. I was waiting for her in the wide, clearly (I thought) visible front aisle. Now, she can take her time in the ladies' room; unlike me & most of my non-makeup wearing friends, she has to double-check her lipstick & hairstyle & make sure she's "presentable." So, it took about five minutes or so for me to get a bit concerned that she hadn't rejoined me.
Moving into the center of the aisle & looking over toward the ladies' room, I spotted my friend, frozen to the spot in the café, looking totally alone & scared to death.
She walked out of the ladies' room, into the café. That's what it would have looked like to anyone seeing her. What was actually happening was she walked out a semi-familiar setting (supermarket ladies' rooms look pretty much the same all over), into the complete unknown. She didn't know where she was, what town she was in, why she was there. I spotted her about a minute later.
It's so easy with someone so typically sharp to forget she occasionally gets a bit fuzzy. I am so proud of her. She shared her harrowing experience as information, without a sense of rebuke or betrayal. God bless her & praise be for all the blessings she brings to my life.
Monday, November 4, 2013
Wednesday, October 30, 2013
UNINTENDED CONSEQUENCES
Have been thinking quite a bit lately about a wide range of unintended consequences. A lot of times, those consequences are none too pretty. Sometimes, they are wondrous.
This past Monday is a prime example of a bright, shining unintended consequence. The Presbyterian chaplain at a grannie client's senior residence has made a significant difference in her life. She enjoys his Bible study class & takes special interest in his series on comparative religion. She always has a lighter step & a beaming smile after one of Chaplain Tom's presentations.
On behalf of my grannie client, I arranged a tour of the church we both attend. Two recently retired (semi, in Jeremy's case) church leaders accepted our invitation to join us. The three ministers & both of us enjoyed the tour, which was capped off by lunch at the nearby Be Well Café.
What had been intended to be special thank you to a gifted minister turned out to be a special gift to my grannie client. Since entering the senior residence, she's been wistfully regretful about living in two different, unconnected worlds - - her longtime hometown, where she still goes to church, and the very nice senior residence.
When I first suggested arranging the tour & lunch, it hadn't dawned on me that the two would serve as a bridge between her two worlds. What a wonder it was, experiencing her in the presence of three men she knew so very well - her pastor & bishop & the minister currently most present in her life - enjoying each other, sharing life experiences & playful banter & some truly awful jokes.
Building a bridge between my grannie client's two worlds - now forever connected - wasn't my plan, but it's right up there with the top three unintended consequences in my life!!
This past Monday is a prime example of a bright, shining unintended consequence. The Presbyterian chaplain at a grannie client's senior residence has made a significant difference in her life. She enjoys his Bible study class & takes special interest in his series on comparative religion. She always has a lighter step & a beaming smile after one of Chaplain Tom's presentations.
On behalf of my grannie client, I arranged a tour of the church we both attend. Two recently retired (semi, in Jeremy's case) church leaders accepted our invitation to join us. The three ministers & both of us enjoyed the tour, which was capped off by lunch at the nearby Be Well Café.
What had been intended to be special thank you to a gifted minister turned out to be a special gift to my grannie client. Since entering the senior residence, she's been wistfully regretful about living in two different, unconnected worlds - - her longtime hometown, where she still goes to church, and the very nice senior residence.
When I first suggested arranging the tour & lunch, it hadn't dawned on me that the two would serve as a bridge between her two worlds. What a wonder it was, experiencing her in the presence of three men she knew so very well - her pastor & bishop & the minister currently most present in her life - enjoying each other, sharing life experiences & playful banter & some truly awful jokes.
Building a bridge between my grannie client's two worlds - now forever connected - wasn't my plan, but it's right up there with the top three unintended consequences in my life!!
Monday, October 28, 2013
NOTHING VENTURED....
As a thank you from a grannie client for a terrific series on comparative religion, I invited the chaplain of her senior residence to a tour of our cathedral. Then, being a big believer in "nothing ventured, nothing gained, I asked both the recently retired executive bishop of our church and the recently retired pastor of our local congregation if he'd be interested in joining us. The Presbyterian chaplain accepted & the other two said, YES!
This morning - a pearl of a day, with the countryside bathed in autumn colors, my grannie client & I had a grand time with all three! The two of us tagged along as Rt. Rev. Tom Kline, Rev. Jeremy Simons (now cathedral chaplain) & Rev. Tom Summers traipsed around first the cathedral nave et al, then walked the grounds around it.
Will go to my grave unsure which held the greatest delight for my beaming grannie client et moi - the cathedral tour or lunch afterwards at Be Well Bakery & Cafe. Both of us enjoyed ourselves to the hilt, listening to the three ministers enjoy each other's company over a delectable meal.
As the two of us drove back to her senior residence, my grannie client asked, "HOW did you make this wonderful time happen?" It was as simple as could be - I asked. And the three gentlemen came through, BIG time, creating a moment my grannie client will forever hold in her heart.
To each of them - thanks, thanks & more thanks!
This morning - a pearl of a day, with the countryside bathed in autumn colors, my grannie client & I had a grand time with all three! The two of us tagged along as Rt. Rev. Tom Kline, Rev. Jeremy Simons (now cathedral chaplain) & Rev. Tom Summers traipsed around first the cathedral nave et al, then walked the grounds around it.
Will go to my grave unsure which held the greatest delight for my beaming grannie client et moi - the cathedral tour or lunch afterwards at Be Well Bakery & Cafe. Both of us enjoyed ourselves to the hilt, listening to the three ministers enjoy each other's company over a delectable meal.
As the two of us drove back to her senior residence, my grannie client asked, "HOW did you make this wonderful time happen?" It was as simple as could be - I asked. And the three gentlemen came through, BIG time, creating a moment my grannie client will forever hold in her heart.
To each of them - thanks, thanks & more thanks!
Saturday, October 26, 2013
BEAU IDEAL
Friends of ours recently visited their London-based daughter & son-in-law. Dave's truly older parents went with them, as well as their son & daughter-in-law & toddlerish son.
Four generations, visiting loved ones in England before heading to France.
The Z's - - my very beau ideal of wondrous eldering!
Friday, October 25, 2013
UNLIVED LIVES
One thing I will never lay claim to is being any sort of pseudo-psychologist or counselor, a giver of deeply personal advice & explorer of hidden issues. That's because I've been blessed to know people who are gifted & trained in such matters ~ ~ Mark Carlson, Kevyn Malloy, Kim Vargas, to name a few ~ ~ and recognize the chasm between them & an interested friend.
So, I am left contemplating if it's commonplace for the truly older to look back with curiosity at earlier moments in their life, at roads not take, at choices made. It's something I've experienced with some grannie clients, something I experienced with my own mother. Not a matter of regrets for their lives, just a realization that things could have turned out so very different from the way they did, a desire to consider the sweet "What if..?" rather than harbor a regretful "If only..."
So, I am left contemplating if it's commonplace for the truly older to look back with curiosity at earlier moments in their life, at roads not take, at choices made. It's something I've experienced with some grannie clients, something I experienced with my own mother. Not a matter of regrets for their lives, just a realization that things could have turned out so very different from the way they did, a desire to consider the sweet "What if..?" rather than harbor a regretful "If only..."
Thursday, October 17, 2013
DEATH informs LIFE
Today is a friend's birthday. She's been posting pictures of her daughter's wedding on Facebook. What joy & sweet remembrance in seeing those wonderful photos, especially seeing Kim looking so happy & hardly any older than the year we taught 6th grade, than when she was married over a winter wonderland Christmas. How blessed her children are to have her as their mom, how blessed she is to be sharing these years with them.
Maybe I'm super susceptible to such sentimental meanderings, having just watched (again) Raising Helen. The plotline about a Manhattan fashionista suddenly handed custody of her nieces & nephew after their parents’ sudden death makes scenes of mothers & adult daughters especially sweet. And having just reread Erin & Doug Kramp's Living With The End In Mind makes me appreciate anew the young father's wisdom in addressing the unthinkable possibility of their unexpected passing.
The first question in the book's first chapter asks, "Why should you read a book about embracing your mortality when the ultimate goal is to live?" Their answer ~ "Because death informs life. We can go about our day-to-day lives, or we can use the knowledge that we all will die to gain perspective on what is important today ~ whether we are healthy or ill."
The first personal sense my John had of Mom was the night the two of us first talked about getting married. When I pulled out the church liturgy to look over wedding-related services & rituals, we discovered a piece of paper acting as a marker for "Funerals." It was a list of hymns Mom wanted for her memorial service. At the time, Mom was hale & hearty, on her 6th of 7 trips to Australia. It was both a chortle & a WOW! moment, making me realize how cool it was of her to have thought ahead, to have written them down, and placed them where, if the need had come up, we would have found them. And it left John pretty drop-jawed with amazement at the person who jotted down those page numbers.
Death informs life. Did we use those hymns for Mom's memorial celebration? No, we did not - she took a different route, asking each of her children to pick a favorite. But having those jotted down numbers opened the door, it started a conversation. Not only did it make it easier on all of us when the day finally did dawn that we had to organize Mom's memorial celebration, it became an opportunity for her to connect with each of her children, to let them know their participation in that special moment was special to her, to let each of her children feel a direct part of remembering Mom.
How blessed I am to have the friends who post such wonderful moments in their lives. How blessed I was to have a Mom who always seemed to live with the end in mind, enjoying each moment while preparing herself - and us - for the last.
Wednesday, October 16, 2013
BE PREPARED
Rewind 16 years. Just around this time, Mom & I were putting the finishing touches on plans for the road trip of her dreams, down to EPCOT, with stops in Williamsburg (which she loved), Charleston (which she longed to visit) & extra special lodgings in Jacksonville. We had a grand time, from our first stop (for a late breakfast in Philadelphia) to our last nightcap at Wilderness Lodge.
As we headed back north, little did I suspect that the most wondrous part of the trip was about to unfold!
A hallmark of our coastal route south were the audiotapes we listened to as the miles rolled by - Stephen Covey, Louise Hay, Marianne Williamson, John Bradshaw, Wayne Dwyer, and lots of Willie Nelson. On the trip back, working our way up the Great Smoky Mountains to the Blue Ridge, the tapes remained tucked away in their carrying case as Mom & I got into lengthy discussions about her memorial celebration.
Yes, that's right - we talked, at great length, about the ways she hoped her family & friends would celebrate her life at her passing. It was amazing! Not a smidgen of sadness or gloom touched those talks. The miles sped by as we spun those highly energized, life-affirming conversations! We learned a lot about each other - and ourselves - as we considered the ins & outs & 'round abouts of how Mom hoped she'd pass & how she wanted us to experience it as joy, rather than sorrow.
Four years later, those conversations & the ideas that were bandied about made it easy, even uplifting, to deal with Mom's last hospitalizations, her brief hospice, and arranging her memorial celebrations. There was no wondering which hymns she wanted - Mom had asked each of her children to select a song for the service. We didn't have to ponder the special music - Mom not only had outlined what she wanted, in at least one case she'd asked friends if they'd sing solos. Three years before she passed, Mom asked a minister especially dear to her heart if he would do her service. We'd gone through her photos to pick out which ones she thought would give a good view of what was a most fortunate life.
One thing she wished she had done before she was left unable to write was to leave notes note for each of her children & children-of-her-heart. Other than that, she felt satisfied with how well prepared we'd all be when her time came.
When it came to preparing for her final days & passing, Mom fully lived with the end in mind. Like a good Boy Scout, she was prepared.
Contrast our happy memories of Mom's passing - at 91, she wore out, rather than rusted out, just as she'd hoped - with the experience of friends, whose mother died. Unlike Mom, she & her family had shied away from discussing end-of-life issues. As she lay, unconscious, her husband was faced with making enormous, heart-wrenching decisions about her medical care, without any idea of what she wanted because they'd never talked about quality of life issues. After she passed, her spouse & children had to arrange the many details of her funeral - What type of casket would she want? Which favorite outfit should she have for the viewing? Is the church available, the minister? Should there be a gathering afterwards? Where? How to let her friends know she's passed? - at the freshness of their loss. After all that, they had to head back to work, where coworkers who'd offered condolences now expected they'd gone through a sufficient grief process.
If only. If only their parent's had discussed end-of-life issues, if only they'd noted ahead of time what they wanted at a memorial service, if only they'd let others know which friends should be contacted in the event of their passing.
That might sound sort of... ghoulish. Personally, I've never found it in the least disconcerting to discuss such issues. Maybe that's because an early loss taught me how swiftly death can come, at any age. Maybe it's because I'm quite practical when it comes to such matters. Maybe it's because I will always remember John having to deal with intrusive details rather than working through his grief at his own Mom's sudden passing. Maybe it's because I know first-hand the importance of discussing medical care issues well ahead of time - it turns out that John & I have radically different ideas on taking extraordinary measures, differences that are so extreme I gave someone else my medical power of attorney.
There is no 2nd guessing when we are going to pass. Dad died just around my age. I know, first hand, the heartache he felt leaving my Mom without the support measures he could have put in place ahead of time. I remember, as he was getting ready to leave our house for the nursing home where - in less than a month - he ended his days, his stricken face. Mom put her arms around him & tried to console him with, "Pete, I'll be okay. I have two fine sons to take care of me." Will never forget him lowering his head, shaking it. Broke my heart then, breaks it again as I remember it. He grieved for all he could have set up to protect her in his absence, yet had never thought of because there'd be time enough.
One of the things I want to accomplish through my older2elder efforts is helping people of all ages have those conversations. It's never too early or too late to start. Mom was quite an age - 87 - when we had ours. Up until that trip homeward, I could have made educated guesses about what she wanted, but how much better was it to actually KNOW, to be able to just implement rather than plan her memorial celebration.
Using Erin & Doug Kramp's incredible book, Living With The End In Mind, will talk a look at the different things we can do to make our here & now life fuller, our final days more bearable, and our passing even uplifting for those we leave behind.
How can each of us live with the end in mind? We can do what we can to be prepared. It might be among our greatest legacies.
As we headed back north, little did I suspect that the most wondrous part of the trip was about to unfold!
A hallmark of our coastal route south were the audiotapes we listened to as the miles rolled by - Stephen Covey, Louise Hay, Marianne Williamson, John Bradshaw, Wayne Dwyer, and lots of Willie Nelson. On the trip back, working our way up the Great Smoky Mountains to the Blue Ridge, the tapes remained tucked away in their carrying case as Mom & I got into lengthy discussions about her memorial celebration.
Yes, that's right - we talked, at great length, about the ways she hoped her family & friends would celebrate her life at her passing. It was amazing! Not a smidgen of sadness or gloom touched those talks. The miles sped by as we spun those highly energized, life-affirming conversations! We learned a lot about each other - and ourselves - as we considered the ins & outs & 'round abouts of how Mom hoped she'd pass & how she wanted us to experience it as joy, rather than sorrow.
Four years later, those conversations & the ideas that were bandied about made it easy, even uplifting, to deal with Mom's last hospitalizations, her brief hospice, and arranging her memorial celebrations. There was no wondering which hymns she wanted - Mom had asked each of her children to select a song for the service. We didn't have to ponder the special music - Mom not only had outlined what she wanted, in at least one case she'd asked friends if they'd sing solos. Three years before she passed, Mom asked a minister especially dear to her heart if he would do her service. We'd gone through her photos to pick out which ones she thought would give a good view of what was a most fortunate life.
One thing she wished she had done before she was left unable to write was to leave notes note for each of her children & children-of-her-heart. Other than that, she felt satisfied with how well prepared we'd all be when her time came.
When it came to preparing for her final days & passing, Mom fully lived with the end in mind. Like a good Boy Scout, she was prepared.
Contrast our happy memories of Mom's passing - at 91, she wore out, rather than rusted out, just as she'd hoped - with the experience of friends, whose mother died. Unlike Mom, she & her family had shied away from discussing end-of-life issues. As she lay, unconscious, her husband was faced with making enormous, heart-wrenching decisions about her medical care, without any idea of what she wanted because they'd never talked about quality of life issues. After she passed, her spouse & children had to arrange the many details of her funeral - What type of casket would she want? Which favorite outfit should she have for the viewing? Is the church available, the minister? Should there be a gathering afterwards? Where? How to let her friends know she's passed? - at the freshness of their loss. After all that, they had to head back to work, where coworkers who'd offered condolences now expected they'd gone through a sufficient grief process.
If only. If only their parent's had discussed end-of-life issues, if only they'd noted ahead of time what they wanted at a memorial service, if only they'd let others know which friends should be contacted in the event of their passing.
That might sound sort of... ghoulish. Personally, I've never found it in the least disconcerting to discuss such issues. Maybe that's because an early loss taught me how swiftly death can come, at any age. Maybe it's because I'm quite practical when it comes to such matters. Maybe it's because I will always remember John having to deal with intrusive details rather than working through his grief at his own Mom's sudden passing. Maybe it's because I know first-hand the importance of discussing medical care issues well ahead of time - it turns out that John & I have radically different ideas on taking extraordinary measures, differences that are so extreme I gave someone else my medical power of attorney.
There is no 2nd guessing when we are going to pass. Dad died just around my age. I know, first hand, the heartache he felt leaving my Mom without the support measures he could have put in place ahead of time. I remember, as he was getting ready to leave our house for the nursing home where - in less than a month - he ended his days, his stricken face. Mom put her arms around him & tried to console him with, "Pete, I'll be okay. I have two fine sons to take care of me." Will never forget him lowering his head, shaking it. Broke my heart then, breaks it again as I remember it. He grieved for all he could have set up to protect her in his absence, yet had never thought of because there'd be time enough.
One of the things I want to accomplish through my older2elder efforts is helping people of all ages have those conversations. It's never too early or too late to start. Mom was quite an age - 87 - when we had ours. Up until that trip homeward, I could have made educated guesses about what she wanted, but how much better was it to actually KNOW, to be able to just implement rather than plan her memorial celebration.
Using Erin & Doug Kramp's incredible book, Living With The End In Mind, will talk a look at the different things we can do to make our here & now life fuller, our final days more bearable, and our passing even uplifting for those we leave behind.
How can each of us live with the end in mind? We can do what we can to be prepared. It might be among our greatest legacies.
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