The Rabbit Hole...

When Alice fell down that rabbit hole, she didn't lose her physical self, she lost her mind, and later realized it was all a dream.  When dimentia and Alzheimer's takes hold of a person, it starts out the same, then takes everything. 

Stop and think about this for a minute.

What happened 5 minutes ago literally only exists in your mind. 

Funny how important those past 5 minutes become when you realize your loved one, dear friend, or partner has lost the ability to recall them.  

I have taken my oldest daughter to visit a dear friend who is living with the debilitating  effects of dementia and Alzheimer's disease.   On more than one occasion during our most recent visit,  I had to step away from their interaction together because I was so overwhelmed with emotion.  The compassion my ten year old showed was nothing other than a gift. I was amazed at her intuitiveness, and how she just seemed to know how to focus on the touch, feel or sound of things with my friend.  At one point, she took my daughters hand, looked straight at her, and said, "My buddy".  Then she retreated back inside of herself.  Making soothing, repetive sounds, and hand motions.  We sat together, listening to ocean sounds on a sound machine, and talked to her about a beach trip we took together once.  I imagine she was there in her mind.

Don't worry that your kids might be scared or worried about seeing others in a compromised state. They are stronger than us grown ups give them credit for. They have a capacity to love others and see past a disease. Straight through it. 

We took my friend her favorite treat, a frosty from Wendy's, and it was the sweetest couple of hours just sitting, being with her. I know her soul knows ours. She welled up a few times looking at us.  Her mind has betrayed her, but her soul has not. She knew us. She didn't have to say a word. 

Sometimes the hardest trips are the best ones, and shine a light on the capacity for caring you didn't even know existed.  It's powerful to be in the midst of a situation where grief, deep fear, and lonliness exists alongside beauty, caring and deep love.  How can something be terrifying and beautiful at the same time?  I really can't explain it, it just is.  Better to focus on the beauty, and finding the way into that special persons soul, becuase the alternative, the fear, is too much for any of us to bear alone.  I wouldn't want to be left alone just because it "appeared" that I couldn't understand anymore.  I would want you to keep reaching me in different ways, never giving up.

Believe it or not, there was humor {in a kind way} in her new home. While we were sitting with my friend, a man was sitting at a table next to us, waiting for a snack to be brought to him.  I could hear him crunching on something, so I looked over.  He was gobbling up sweet and low packets off of the table.  I (lovingly) said, "Don't do that!",  and he cracked up.  The staff member had her back turned for about two seconds, and like a kid sneaking cookies from the jar, he took advantage of the opportunity for a treat.  She moved them away, and went to get juice and gingerbread for him.  He looked over at me, slowly sneaked his hand across the table reaching as far as he could and shoved another one in his mouth.  "Hey!",   I called over to him, "Don't do that!".  He had the cutest michevious grin on his face, how could I not giggle a bit?  He cracked himself up. 

A few minutes later, a woman in an armchair told me I looked exactly like her daughter, but asked when I became black {I'm not} ?  I just agreed with her, and she told me I'd start being funny in about 4 months {good to know}.  We laughed, she patted my hand and told me something about going outside, and buying real estate.  In her mind it all made sense.  

Smiling, and laughing along with the different residents all in their own different stages of their disease was just another way to deal with what was all around me.  

In those moments, they were happy, cracking up, enjoying the visits, and the sugar packs....

At one point, the woman in the armchair stopped, thought for a moment, and said, "Thank you so much for coming here today.  It means so much that you came".  Whether she thought I was her daughter, or her neighbor, or whomever....she seemed to have a moment of clarity. Either way, I'll take it.

We enjoyed them too, and we'll be back for more.  

Visit someone who could use a visitor...❤

Have a great day today!

{Jenn}

Send-Off

I want to welcome my new readers from Russia and Thailand...seeing your countries light up on my blog dashboard is exciting {I know, doesn't take much, right?}.  Welcome.

Yesterday my dear friend Kim was laid to rest.  Everything was just right.  The sun was shining, birds were singing, and the family was surrounded by immense love.  The reception after her burial looked like a wedding reception, and Kim was beaming, I'm sure, over every little detail that her husband attended to.  While everyone sat, ate, and drank some wine, a beautiful slide show played of Kim throughout her life.  She clearly did so much living in her 45 years on earth.  Her smile bathed over us the entire afternoon~it was just the way she would've wanted it.

Her husband asked me to read a poem he was given at the reception, and I read it, and re-read it before going before the crowd.  I told myself to read with feeling, but not to "think" too much...just read.  No crying~this was to celebrate her life now.  The crying was done.

I almost made it...the last line got me {I really did try...}.  Taking a deep breath, I finished.  Some of you asked that I print it for you, so here you are....

You can shed tears that she is gone
Or you can smile because she lived
You can close your eyes and pray that she will come back
Or you can open your eyes and see all that she has left

Your heart can be empty because you can't see her
Or you can be full of the love that you shared
You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday
Or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday

You can remember her, and only that she is gone
Or you can cherish her memory and let it live on
You can cry and close your mind, be empty and turn your back

Or you can do what she would want~ smile, open your eyes, love, and go on.

So, whether you knew Kim or not...it's a lesson, isn't it?  We all have choices to make in our everyday lives.  Choose wisely.  Be present.  Listen for the birds.  Make your kids turn off the movie in the car, and look out the darn window.  Look around.  Open your eyes, and go on.

Have an amazing day~

{Jenn}

Kim {part 2}

I need to say thank you for indulging me here.  It's almost 5 am as I sit here and write, I've been up since 2.  I'm not really sleeping much lately, before it was from worry, now it's from grief.  My friend Kim recently passed away from cancer.  She has a family that is grieving, and children who want their mom back. They are why I'm awake.  You didn't have to know my friend for this to be terrifying.  It's all of our worst nightmare, leaving our children too soon.  Kim fought her body in a battle to preserve her life for them.  None of us would endure pain like that for ourselves~but for our children?  Bring on the fire. 

Kim walked through fire for two years.  She knew it was stage 4 when she was diagnosed {started out as melanoma}.  There is no stage 5.  She fought for her children, her husband...and herself.

I had seen Kim when she was at a local hospital, but when she got transferred to the University of Penn, which was farther away, I couldn't get there like I wanted to, and still be back for my kids to get off the bus.  So each morning, since I was up worrying anyway, I spent time sending her distant Reiki {I will link this post up with some info on reiki, and talk about it more in another post, but just go with me for a minute...} hoping that even though I was not physically present, that Kim would feel the energy and love from those sessions, and maybe it would give her comfort on some deep level.  Sending distant Reiki is something like intercessory prayer, where you pray for someone who is not near you, or maybe who you do not know, and you hope that they feel your prayers, and are comforted. 

I finally figured a day when I could get up there, and my husband was working a shift that helped me out w/the kids {that day would be Monday, March 11th}.

Saturday morning, the 9th, I was up early again, and felt upset, moreso than usual.  I felt like I needed to bring out the 'big guns', and took my Nana's rosaries for the distant Reiki session that morning. I only bust those out when I need some extra help.  Saturday just felt like that kind of day. I sat in my Nana's chair and said a decade of the rosary, and began sending Reiki from the 'blue room' in my house, looking out a window towards the sunrise.  But the energy was totally different.  It felt thick, slow, not clear...like pushing your hand through gel.  It made me panic.  As I moved through her energy centers {you envision the person standing or lying in front of you} and got to her root chakra, I felt very little energy at all.  This should be a strong point, it is your life energy.  I felt very little life in her, and I was very overwhelmed with emotion. 

I didn't want to alarm Kim's best friend, but I texted her around 8 am saying I need to talk with you about the Reiki I sent today.....because maybe I was wrong in how I percieved the energy {I had hoped I was wrong}.  I figured I'd explain it to her on the phone later on.  But at 9:30 am I got the call from Kim's husband that she wasn't going to make it through the day.  I needed to come to Penn.  What I felt was real.

Luckily my sister was around to take me to the hospital so I could be with her, and when I got there, Kim's best friend asked if I would do Reiki for her with the family, so I did.  One of Kim's sons was there, so I explained what I was doing as I moved through the session so he would understand.  There was so much love in the room, the energy was palpable and overwhelming.  I could feel the love coming from Kim's heart chakra into the room for her family.  Her physical body was fading at an alarming rate, but her soul was in high gear, and she made it known to me she wasn't really leaving this family.  She would be with them forever. 
I told her that I loved her, stroked her hair, her hand, and told her that it was okay to go.  She had fought hard and long enough. I promised to help look after the kids, the house, whatever she needed.  Many of us would take up for her, so not to worry.  Even in her comprimised state she tried to ask me how I was doing.  I told her she could stop being the perfect hostess...we were there for her now.

Kim passed away at 8pm, surrounded by the love of family and friends.  It's interesting how when someone passes who you love, it takes your breath away too. 

I never got the Monday visit in~Monday never came for her.  I drove home yesterday and realized I should've been driving up to Penn for that visit.  Lost my mind.  But if I truly believe what I say I do, then I didn't have to drive anywhere to see her, she was already with me.  Heaven isn't a far away place, it is right here.  We walk among our loved ones, we just need to learn how to interact with them in new ways.  Energy cannot be destroyed, and one day we will all get to understand what that means. 

Until then, I'll be talking to her like she's in the room, praying for her family's strength, and trying to live up to my promise.  That's all we would want if it were us, right?

Be in the moment today....

{Jenn}

Kim {part 1}

I wrote this post on March 1st, a day or two after seeing my friend.  By Saturday, March 9th 2013, she passed away.  I'm posting this anyway.   I will write more about my friend, Kim...probably tonight...because if I don't write right now, I'm going to go crazy with my thoughts.   I need to get them out of my head.  It's 4:30 am right now, I've been up since 2:00.  And, honestly, I'm glad I have this little blog to get it all out.  So, thank you.

I have a friend who is living with cancer.  As of late, the battle she has endured to keep her health has been difficult to say the least.  I struggle with what to say...what do you say to someone who may be nearing the end of their journey in life?  I hope to God she is here a very long time, but as I write this, her situation is scaring the heck out of me.  Miracles can happen, and I will keep praying for one....

Recently I went to see my friend Kim in the hospital.  I entered the room, and when she saw me, she outstretched her hand and said, 'Jenn, I think it has caught up to me.  I don't know if I can beat this anymore'.  I told her to hold on, and ducked into her bathroom to wash my hands before sitting with her-half to not give her any germs, and half to snap myself out of the wave of emotion that hit me when I walked in.  She didn't need to see me losing it.  And I didn't want her to end up consoling me.  So I turned on the water~COLD~and snapped out of it.
I asked God, the Universe, the Angels....to keep me strong for my friend.  I could leave that room and lose it later, this visit would not be about me.
She had difficulty breathing, talking was difficult.  I told her not to talk, I would be with her, regardless.  But she wanted to talk.  She wanted to say the things I really didn't want to hear about how she felt she was losing this battle.  Even though I wanted to say, NO!  You are NOT going to lose this!!  I didn't.  I let her talk.  I said no matter what was ahead, I would listen and be there for her. 

Before my third daughter was born, I said goodbye to my Aunt "Hi Doll", her name was Georgeanna, but honestly, no one called her that.  She was "Hi Doll" because that's how she addressed everyone when she saw you.  She was the best.  She was who we all wanted to sit next to at family parties, gossiping and eating cream puffs.  She died when I was 9 months pregnant with our youngest.  I like to think that she held my daughter before I did.
There was  a visit I paid to her when she was toward the end of her life in the hospital {colon cancer}.  She smiled even though she was in unimaginable pain.  She consoled me during that visit.  She spoke to me about being okay with death, and told me how she would miss all of us, and about how not getting to see the kids grow up was the hardest part for her.  I remember saying to her, 'Don't say that, you are going to be okay'. 

I knew she wasn't. 

I look back on that day and I feel bad that I didn't just let her say what she needed to say without having to defend her statements.....she was at peace, and tried to help me get to that place too.  That visit has stayed with me.  And Hi Doll's lesson of acceptance and walking through the unimaginable with dignity is what is helping me now with my friend.

I let my friend talk.  I let her say the tough things.  I listen.  I try to do what Hi Doll tried to teach me...sometimes you just need to say what needs to be said.  Even if it is something you don't want to hear.  You can handle it.  You can throw cold water on yourself and be as brave as your friend.  Just listen.

{Jenn}

Remembering

Happy Valentine's Day!  Last night I stood in the kitchen, feverishly cutting out paper hearts.  Before the kids went up to bed, my youngest daughter said, "Hey Mom, I can't wait to wake up and follow that trail of hearts you make for us every year!  You know, the path that leads us to our special treats?  Yeah, that".

"Sure, of course I will do that for you again!".  Oh crap.  I forgot to cut out the hearts.  I bought the little gifts, got the cards and the chocolate...but the path!  How could I forget about the path?

You can guess I didn't have the hearts cut out before bedtime...so I went through every scrap of scrapbook and construction paper, even finding some pink paint sample cards in the mix, and started cutting...  I got the path set up, staged their little gifts on the table (which included new toothbrushes for the amount of sugar that would be rotting their teeth) and went to bed.

When I woke up, I found a path of my own to follow...of roses.  Looks like my husband was busy last night too~he left in the middle of the night for work to have a special date with a 'certain group', to give some lucky criminal a Valentine's wake up call {side note: if you don't want 'special' wake up call, don't do really bad things, or hurt people...it's easy~be nice to people, that's it}.  My path led me to treats of my own~chocolate and wine.  As a mom, I really don't want anything else.

So it turns out that the little things, the hearts on the floor, and the surprise path of roses meant something to me too.  It's just knowing that you were remembered.  And that someone took the time to show you that they remembered.  It's no wonder that it stuck in my little ones brain, those hearts on the floor from years past.  Even something little can mean alot, even to a grown-up like me :)

Have a great day!

{Jenn}

Noise

Last night I came into our office {wait that sounds too fancy...it's a room where all our office-related stuff is...} to get some work done, and maybe do some writing here.  But that clearly was not in the cards for me.  My oldest came into the room and sat just behind the computer monitor, turned on her ipod and started playing some live John Mayer music {which is a favorite in our house}.  I tried to focus on what I was doing, but between the music playing, and her singing along, there was no way I could get any solid work done.
And then I remembered a lesson I learned from my dog. 

Yes, I know, I sound like a crazy person now {and that may be true} but, yes, a lesson from my dog.
We had him for almost 14 years, and he passed away almost 2 weeks ago now.  That day was more emotional than I could have ever imagined, and on that afternoon, when my husband and I came back from the vet without him, I was slapped in the face with something~silence. 
And I didn't like it.
Even after the kids got back to their new normal without our dog, that's all they kept talking about...it's too quiet in the house now.  It's not the same.  His absence is felt in so many ways.
It's kind of like when one of my three girls goes off on a sleep-over.  To be honest, I don't like it~the house feels different.  It's too quiet.  I feel off-kilter, and catch myself wondering when they are coming back. 
Funny how I often think I just want a break, then when I get it {like all the kids sleeping over my parents house or something} I just want them back...why?  Because the house is too quiet. 

Apparently I love the noise.

So, I scrapped my plans to 'get something done', and I hung out with my 10 year old.  She asked to read the first blog entry {her take on it was that it was 'very intense'...lol... I explained I wrote it for grown ups, you know....} and asked if I had gone 'viral' yet.  Cracked me up.  I tried to explain that I only wrote 1 post so far, and that if Ellen or Oprah reads your blog, then I think maybe you can 'go viral'.
Then she promptly asked when she could write a guest column.  She wrote a list of column ideas when I mentioned I may start a blog, and actually keep up with it.  I had no idea she was serious. 

She has the list.

You already know that she is 10, but in reality, she is about 35...maybe 40.  She was the baby I always said was 'born older'.
And it is not lost on me how quickly she, and her little sisters are growing up.
So, thank you, Augen {the dog} for reminding me how fleeting life's moments are...and reminding me to enjoy the noise while I am still surrounded by it. 

Have a great day,

{Jenn}