The phone rang this afternoon while Mary Ann was napping.  It was a former parishioner who was in trouble.  She and her husband were struggling with what to do.  They had eaten all they could of the wonderfully decadent chocolate dessert and were at a loss as to what to do with the last two pieces.  Could they bring themselves to throw them away???

When she finished describing their distressing situation, I made a remarkably generous offer.  You may not believe the level of my generosity, but here is what I offered.  I just blurted it out without even thinking.  Isn’t that the way heroes often describe their heroic acts — “I just did it without thinking.”  I told her that Mary Ann and I would eat those two pieces of dessert for her!!

She was so grateful, she and her husband brought them to our house.  It just feels good to do something to help other people when they are in need.

Last week I left the house on Tuesday evening to spend some quiet time away while a Volunteer spent time with Mary Ann.  There was one garden tomato left from a number that had been given to us.  By the time I returned that evening, there were thirteen with the a call promising more the next day, raising the total to twenty-one.  There were zucchini, a squash, a melon that had been delivered with the tomatoes that evening.  The next day the promised tomatoes came, plus some additional ones from a Volunteer who just brought some with her.  I have already eaten most of the tomatoes, and another ten came on Sunday.

Monday evening of this week after being out for a while, I came home to find a warm cobbler fresh from the oven that a former parishioner had delivered, along with a small vase filled to overflowing with brightly colored blossoms.

Today I was treated to lunch out while a Volunteer spent time with Mary Ann.  That is a monthly treat.

In the last fifteen days there has been at least one Volunteer at some time during the day on eleven of those days.  While schedules don’t usually allow Volunteers to come quite that often, it is overwhelming to think about how many people break open their busy days to make room for time at our home.  It is quite humbling to see just how thoughtful and generous people are.  The hours that Volunteer Coordinator Mary spends just scheduling all those people is a testament to that generosity.

It is hard not to feel guilty in the face of so many people in circumstances like ours, often in much more difficult circumstances, who don’t have a cadre of Volunteers and a Mary to schedule them. There are so many who are trapped in their own homes most of the time because one or both is suffering from chronic illness.  Those days when there are no Volunteers, or Mary Ann is having a bad day that keeps us in, or I have gotten sick, we have a taste of that kind of confinement and the loneliness it brings, the sensation of helplessness. As difficult as it is even with all the Volunteers, the thoughtful and generous people that surround us — as difficult as it is to manage full time caregiving, it is hard to imagine the challenge of that caregiving without support.

If you know someone in circumstances like ours, give him/her a call and ask, “What can I do to help?”  If they can’t think of anything when you call, offer to come over and help them make a list of answers to give people when they ask that question.  Then offer to check around, contact some folks who might be willing to help, ask them what on the list they would be willing to do, and schedule the doing of that task.

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It was 4am before Mary Ann finally went to sleep last night.  The hallucinations were vivid and constant.  The family of people and the raccoons were present much of the time, one or the other.  On two occasions I asked her whom she was talking to.  Once her answer was the raccoon; the other time it was the little girl (blue-eyed).  Today in what sounded like a lucid moment, she asked me if I was ever going to tell her about that family.  Needless to say, all I could do was respond that she would have to tell me about them, since she was the only one who could see them.

I have been going to bed early (for me) the last three nights in hopes that my presence in the bedroom might reassure her and allow her to settle.  She was restless all three nights for much of the night.  Last night it was constant until that 4am time.  She was up and moving and talking and shuffling around.  At one point, I turned on the bright overhead light with four 60watt bulbs and left it on for an hour or two in hopes that the hallucinations would be diminished by the visibility.  It did not work.  The light just made it harder to sleep.

What is an odd dimension to this time is that at least three people who have spent time with or talked with Mary Ann in the last few days have commented on how lucid and communicative she has been, more so than usual.  It makes no sense!  She is wasted, but more lucid at times.  When we are alone she is often so tired that she can hardly hold her head up, she often struggles to track interactions at all.

What makes this a little easier to deal with is the fact that what we are experiencing is not different from what many in the online spouses of those with Lewy Body Dementia.  Others in that group share often that their Loved Ones see and talk with people who are not there.  The group members refer to the lucidity with others as “showtime.”  Many of those Caregivers have to deal with others only seeing their Loved Ones when they seem very lucid.

One of my Brothers phoned to tell us of a tragic death in the extended family.  Mary Ann took the call.  She was apparently very communicative.  After the call she shared what had happened with the Volunteer.  When I returned home she shared with me what had happened.  I phoned my Brother and discovered that the death was of a different family member.  That sort of misunderstanding can certainly happen.  That kind of confusion in tracking what has been said is not unusual any longer.  When a good friend had told both of us about her daughter being pregnant, Mary Ann was convinced that her young Granddaughter was the one who had become pregnant.

What is, of course, a consequence of the sleeples nights is that not only do Mary Ann’s hallucinations get worse, but my stamina wanes and we shift from creating a good quality of life to survival mode, just getting by.  Today was a busy day, Mary Ann’s morning Bible Study had the first meeting for the fall, we had appointments for haircuts for both of us, we had an appointment at the cemetary, and a Volunteer came for the evening.  She did manage to get a couple of hours of sleep in before supper.  On the monitor, she appears to be restless again.  I am not sure I am up to another sleepless night.

The last couple of evenings Volunteers have been with Mary Ann so that I could head up to the spot with the view.  There were a number of deer to be seen, including a buck with a six or more point rack.  There were lots of bats and a few nighthawks.  I enjoy watching them.  I did a little reading — hard to do when sleep deprived (thank goodness for caffeine), and I listened to some music.

For a week Mary Ann has been taking a slightly larger dose of Seroquel which is supposed to control the hallucinations and help her sleep.  So far, the opposite has been so.  I will give it another few days, and if there is no improvement, I will increase the dosage by another increment suggested as an option by her Neurologist.  If that doesn’t work, I will fax the details of her status to the Neurologist with a request for other options that might have a chance of improving our quality of life.

As I mentioned in an email to my Brother, life is not for sissies!

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A Volunteer spent a portion of the morning with Mary Ann today.  I had a chance to head to a spot that often provides some quiet renewal time for reading, meditation, and watching for interesting birds.

This morning provided an odd combination of wildlilfe and human activity.  I enjoy sitting by a large reservoire to do some reading and thinking.  When I arrived in my spot, the weather was great.  I opened the windows, got out the binoculars and a devotional book.

There were lots of flying insects that surrounded and entered the van through the open windows, especially flies and mayflies.  I decided that since I was in their territory, I would not swat them and spend my limited time chasing them.  Actually, I realized that their presence was what was providing me with the aerial show by large numbers of Barn Swallows all around me. There were clusters of Killdeer that came noisily through at intervals.  I spotted some Cedar Waxwings in a nearby pine tree, along with lots of Kingbirds.

There were a few gulls on the water and flying around.  Later when I moved to the area below the dam, gulls were feeding at the overflow outlet where a loud rushing torrent was being released.

The Human entertainment included a fisherman not far from me.  There were lots of powerboats on the water.  There was one pulling a young woman who was tubing.  Then came the large, powerful speed boat with three young men on it.  It took a while to figure out what they were doing.  First of all, it became clear that the large objects across the back of the boat attached to a high bar, were loudspeakers producing ten or fifty or a hundred thousand decibels.  So much for the meditation.  It was the sort of music young people enjoy and old people can’t stand!

Then they started doing what they had come to do.  They were ski boarding — not just following behind the boat, but moving back and forth doing somersaults in the air.  It turned out to be genuinely entertaining.

As I watched all that activity, there was a rumbling off in the distance that got louder and louder.  I looked up at the dam, and there coming across were motorcycles — not just a few but what I would imagine was somewhere between two and three hundred of them in single file.  They were followed by about half as many cars of all sorts and colors and vintages.  In terms of my spirituality, I am something of a contemplative.  Not this morning!

After spending about as much time as was available to me, first next to the lake and then below the dam in a wildlife area, I headed up to drive across the dam. I had spotted what appeared to be a juvenile American Bald Eagle up above the dam, so I thought I would check it out.  I was treated to about fifteen minutes of that bird’s activity.  I have never before seen an eagle flying in place, sort of helicopter style.  This young Eagle did so more than once.

As I slowly continued across the top of the dam, I could see a dozen or so sail boats on the lake.  The day was exceptionally beautiful, and the white sails moving across the water added still more beauty to the experience.

As I left the lake and headed on a gravel road back to the highway, I was treated to a group of wild turkeys strutting around on the top of the hill by the road.

I was grateful for a good morning.  The day before had included an outing to a smaller lake with Mary Ann, but the night had been another restless one.  Yesterday, for some reason I had gotten in my mind that I could be more assertive in keeping us active, doing some self-care by exercising, maybe squeezing in some stimulating outings.  The sleepless night had revealed a certain futility in those hopes.

Yesterday, we both thought we had missed the Parkinson’s Symposium in Kansas City.  Mary Ann had indicated that she was not interested in going because it would demand our leaving here very early in the day, she dislikes large group activities, and she doesn’t get much out of the presentations.  I had thought about trying to go anyway, since I find them so valuable.  When I thought we had missed it today, I realized just how much I had wanted to go.  The good news is that the Symposium is next Saturday.  I decided to be assertive about our going and added the treat of checking with our KC friends about celebrating some birthdays at lunch after the Symposium.  At the moment, that is the plan.

All in all, it has been a weekend that has included some pleasant moments and some not so pleasant moments.  I guess that is the way life usually goes, no matter one’s circumstances. As always, tomorrow is another day.

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Mary Ann is in bed.  Tonight’s was a much later bedtime than usual.  We had a very enjoyable evening with new friends, Jim and Sally.  Since Jim and I are in the same profession, even though they are much younger than we are, we have lots in common.  One especially meaningful dimension to the evening was that Sally brought out Mary Ann by engaging her very directly in conversation.  Mary Ann was more thoughtful and responsive than I have observed in a very long time.  In the course of responding, she said that she expected to die soon.  She revealed her faith to be secure. She spoke in a way that suggested that she was not fearful and distressed, but accepting of her circumstances.  (I am inferring much of that from the limited responses and their tone.)  The evening was meaningful as well as enjoyable.  There was ice cream, guaranteeing a good evening.

The night of the day we visited the Neurologist (see last post) turned out to be a difficult one.  We had increased slightly the medication that seeks to diminish the hallucinations, but it certainly had no effect on then yet that night.  The hallucinations were as strong as ever.

Even though that next day we had a number of Volunteers, it was a tough day, as it always is after a sleepless night  Both of us get pretty grumpy.  Mary Ann got up very early again, even though she had not settled down until after 2am.  Since there was a Volunteer for that time, I was still able to get to the Spiritual Formation Group that meets at our house.

Later in the day, a friend and I had coffee and spent a couple of hours talking.  He had been a confidant and care partner during the last half of my ministry at the parish from which I retired.  It was probably good that we had as much time as we did away from each other, since we were both so tired.

We both slept very well last night.  As a result the day today was better.  The fainting and the hallucinations continue, but they still allow us a certain quality of life that allows us not to feel deprived or resentful or bitter.

The day is catching up with me.  I had best head for bed and hope for sleep.

If you want to write a comment about this or any of the posts on this blog, look to the column on the right side of this page, titled “Recent Posts,”  click on the name of a post and you will find a box at the end of that article in which you can write a comment.  Clicking on the title of the post you are reading will accomplish the same thing.  Comments are appreciated.

Almost done!  The four level waterfall needs only the one watt light fixtures that produce twenty watts of light at the base of each of the four levels.  They will be installed tomorrow.  

The plants are now all in place.  Brad even brought some from his own yard to put in an area above the lined portion, his gift to us.  His Dad has Parkinson’s and we have come to know his parents at the Parkinson’s Support Group meetings.  Brad has put forth extra effort at every turn.  The end result is more than Mary Ann and I could have hoped for. 

The Mallards are now in duck heaven – our back yard.  They were hanging out there last evening and came today five minutes after Brad and his crew left. 

I also hung out on the deck last evening listening to the waterfall as rain and thunder and lightening came through.   While it was raining I sat on the portion of the deck that is covered with a section of the roof.  The wind cooled the air so that the experience was wonderful. 

Mary Ann and I spent some time this morning on the deck before the day heated up.  I got her out to a lawn chair to sit for a while.  Then she got up and walked to the rail to get a better look at the waterfall.  As she started to faint, I tried to pull a chair over behind her.  It didn’t work.  I let her down to the deck.  As she lay there, I went into the house and got the transfer chair so that I would eventually be able to get her into the house.  During the morning, before, and then out on the deck she had had some small fainting spells.  The one at the rail was a substantial one, one that turns into a sort of siezure.  As usual, there was some intestinal activity that followed.  Some time I intend to ask our Gastroenterologist for an explanation of that phenomenon. 

Last night, the third in a row, Mary Ann had trouble settling down and getting to sleep.  As expected, the hallucinations have been a little more active the past few days.

The reason I titled this post “Caregiver needs Deck Therapy” is that today was a pop up day.  Most of the times I went out to talk with Brad and the crew about something, I very specifically asked Mary Ann to stay seated while I was outside.  Of course I made sure that she had ice water, the television was tuned to something she liked, and that she didn’t need to get to the bathroom.  For the most part she did as I asked during those times. 

Other than that, Mary Ann popped up every few minutes.  When I answered the phone or made a phone call, she was up.  When I went into the kitchen to put things in the dishwasher she popped up.  When I tried to get food ready for her she popped up.  When I went to the bathroom she popped up.  It seemed that pretty much every time I sat down she popped up. 

As I have shared many times, falling is a major issue.  The fact that this was also a fainting day made it even more challenging.  Last I heard, aspirating food and falling are the two most likely events to end the life of someone with Parkinson’s.  People don’t die of Parkinson’s itself.   Mary Ann was falling generally more than once a day until the torn stitches a few weeks ago.  Since then she has fallen very seldom, at least by the pre-stitch-tearing measure. 

I realized today the reason the falls have diminished so much.  I am moving very quickly to be right there whenever she stands up to walk.  I offer my elbow for her to hold, thereby stabilizing herself while walking, or I put my hand gently on the gait belt she always wears so that I can help her regain her equilibrium if she gets off balance.  The A-V monitor helps me anticipate her getting up so that I can be there by the time she is up. 

The challenge is that I can’t keep her in view every moment.  The monitor has to be plugged in and within view for me to use it.  I can’t move it with me every time I walk into the other room, head down the hall just for a moment, or go to the bathroom.  At the first sound of movement, I move as fast as I can, sometimes even managing to get this sixty-six year old body to run, to get where she is before she falls. 

Today, I must have jumped and run thirty or forty times.  That is only a guess; it may have been a thousand times!  While as her Caregiver I should just take that in stride, if every day were like today, I am not sure I could do it.  Not long ago I used the metaphor of a marionette whose strings were being pulled by someone else as a  way to describe the feelings of being a full time Caregiver.  That was the sensation today.  She popped up and my arms and legs moved. 

I needed some time on the deck this evening.  The residual heat from the day made it much less bearable than last evening.  That respite and this post are my way of settling down and allowing the frustration to dissipate.  I understand that Mary Ann’s popping up is not a malicious attempt at making my life difficult.  In her mind it has nothing to do with me.  It is my problem that I come running when she gets up.  I suppose, if that is what she is thinking, she is right.  Nonetheless, the truth is, I need to keep her from falling to the degree it is possible not only to keep her safe but to keep my life from becoming more difficult.  If she hurts herself, it hurts both of us.  And, yes, while in my most rational moments I recognize that the disease is the cause of this annoying behavior, sometimes it feels as if she doesn’t care what impact her actions have on me. 

Today is done.  There have been many good moments along with the frustrating ones.  I celebrate the new retreat center behind our house.  I suspect that there will be need for some Deck Therapy tomorrow.  Then there will be lights!

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As they swung the pickaxe and wielded shovels trying to dig through the huge roots of a Bald Cypress Tree and the rock hard Kansas clay just below the roots, the heat index reached 111 degrees yesterday.  Three young men sweated and strained, pulling up water soaked sod to get to the roots and the clay. 

In this heat and at my age, it seems much better to watch others work than to join in the digging.  Today the work continued with more digging, with the addition of the job of bringing huge rocks from the truck in the street in front of the house to the back where they now lay until they find their way to their permanent place in what will be a waterfall, a pondless waterfall.  

They had a little walk-behind Bobcat to move the rocks, but the rocks had to be loaded into the bucket and carried from it.  The well is dug, the liner laid out.  Tomorrow the pump will be installed, the filter filled, the rocks arranged, and later, maybe the next day, the native plants put in place. 

There will then be a waterfall flowing into a manmade wetland to provide an aesthetically pleasing solution (hopefully) to an ugly problem with standing water fed by regularly cycling sump pumps of three houses, ours being the middle one.   

We have committed substantial personal resources to this project.  I cannot be sure that the days and weeks and months will confirm it, but my expectation is that the setting on our deck become more of a sanctuary than it already is. 

This little place where we live is our world most of the time.  We are not completely homebound, but we spend the vast majority of our days here.  To put it bluntly, my goal is to keep from going crazy.  I will do Mary Ann no good if I lose my bearings.  The spiritual grounding that provides me with stability is the primary source of equilibrium.  That grounding needs to be sustained.  We have been through enough to confirm that I am not invincible.  It would be stupid of me to think so.  No human is. 

I recognize the need to have times of respite to help keep balanced and maintain the ability to care for Mary Ann’s needs in a way that nurtures her as a whole, complex, vibrant somebody who happens to have Parkinson’s.  I need the respite to be husband rather than a grumpy and reluctant care provider.  

Mary Ann and I are more grateful than we can ever say for the Volunteers and Mary who schedules them.  We recognize Mary to be a very special gift from God to our household.  The Volunteers give both of us time away from each other.  That time away makes our time together better. 

Tonight, Mary Ann enjoyed the company of good friend Barb.  While Barb was with Mary Ann, I ran some errands and spent time in my favorite close by place of respite.  There I encountered the doe that has been there the last few times.  The two wild turkeys returned to feed for a bit.  The view was as good as ever.  The humidity in the air created layers of mist with varying density, giving depth to the plains that extended for miles in front of me.  I encountered a nice young man there, watering some new plantings.  He is the realtor, excited about the open house coming this weekend, an open  house with the purpose of seeking folks to buy the twenty-eight lots that will be filled with homes, thereby eliminating that place of respite. 

For me to be a good care partner to Mary Ann, there need to be accessible places of retreat and respite, places I can be while we are at home together and there is no Volunteer available.  My office with the computer and the worship center is a place of respite.  The A-V monitor allows me to be here while Mary Ann is in bed or in her transfer chair in the living room. 

The deck can be such a respite with a little planning.  It is possible to plug  the monitor into an outlet on the deck.  My hope is that the addition of the waterfall will increase the power of that setting in providing renewal and refreshment.  Without the need to have a Volunteer scheduled so that I can drive to some other place for respite, our little corner of the world can provide more of what is needed to keep our system healthy and functional. 

Meaningful Caregiving will not happen by accident.  Sometimes it takes pickaxes and shovels wielded in 111 degree heat index weather to help create what is needed to nurture the spirit and sustain mental stability so that meaning can be found day after day in the tasks of caring for someone loved deeply. 

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I have been writing these posts with a certain bravado about our meeting the challenges and choosing to live with meaning, refusing to let the Parkinson’s rule.  As is often the case, saying it is far easier than doing it.

Every two or three months, I take up the shower mesh from the bathroom floor to scrub it with Lysol Cleaner.  We put the interlocking mesh squares on the bathroom floor to protect Mary Ann from experiencing serious damage from the ceramic tile floor if she falls.  An earlier post includes the gory details of the time she fell on that unprotected floor and ended up in the Emergency Room.

The mesh lets the water through so that what doesn’t run down to the drain dries fairly quickly.  The mesh is made of a pliable plastic material that is impregnated with some sort of mold resistance material.  It remains clean other than in some places having a thin layer of residual soap from multiple showers.  The scrubbing I do just makes me feel better about the cleanliness of that floor.

I was outside for a few minutes checking on the tiles drying in the sun on the driveway, talking with a neighbor.  When I went inside, Mary Ann was on the floor in the dining room. She was not hurt at all.  She could have been hurt, but was not.  In the process she had knocked over some coffee demanding some spot cleaning on the carpet.

With the addition of the video monitor, we have reduced the number of falls dramatically.  This relatively minor matter, the fall, reinforced that being out of sight of Mary Ann either by not being in the room with her or not having the monitor in sight is risky.

I struggle to write about being trapped by the Parkinson’s as a Caregiver when Mary Ann is trapped in her own body.  I have no right to feel sorry for myself when she has fought with her own body for over twenty-two years.  A number of years ago, I remember her saying through tears (she seldom cries) that she wished she could get a new body.

She is trapped in a more comprehensive way than I am.  She cannot get a Volunteer to come and give her a break from her own body.  She is trapped, and to a lesser extent, so am I.  The Parkinson’s has come to live with both of us and has become a constant presence in the lives of our Children and Grandchildren as well.

Speaking only from the vantage point of the Caregiver, at times I find it very frustrating that I cannot simply immerse myself in something that takes me out of visual contact with Mary Ann.

A few days ago, I needed to have a Volunteer with Mary Ann so that I could go out and clean the gutters.  The Volunteer had to leave before I finished.  There was at least one fall while I tried to complete the task.

The solution of having Mary Ann outside with me for anything I need to do is not as workable as it may sound.  Due to the Parkinson’s and medications, she does not handle heat well.  She does not enjoy just sitting outside.

Going outside to feed the birds has to be planned for when she is either early in a nap, when it is less likely she will need to get up, or in the first hour or so when she goes to bed.  After an hour or so there is more vulnerability to her needing to use the commode.  Watering the flowers is equally challenging.

Sometimes I just head out the door and walk up to the corner three houses away and look at the sky for a moment, check for nighthawks if it is dusk, or just enjoy the sunset for a few minutes.  There is sometimes a feeling of being tethered to Mary Ann and her needs.  On occasion as a full time Caregiver to someone who needs help to do most of the things she does, my movements are governed by her needs, almost like a marionette’s movements are controlled by the puppeteer.  She doesn’t want it any more than I do, but nonetheless, that is how it sometimes feels.

Gratefully, there are also lots of times when I feel good about being with Mary Ann, able to be close to her so much of the time after years of being away at work sixty to seventy hours a week.  I hope that Mary Ann feels good about my being here some of the time also.  She is not able to express such feelings, but hopefully, they are there.

With all of that said, Mary Ann and I are living lives of value and meaning with joyful times as well as frustrating times.  We are free to do what we are able to do when we are able to do it..  We are experiencing life fully, taking each day as it comes with the bad and the good — pretty much the same way any of us lives, no matter what our circumstances.

If you want to write a comment about this or any of the posts on this blog, look to the column on the right side of this page, titled “Recent Posts,”  click on the name of a post and you will find a box at the end of that article in which you can write a comment.  Clicking on the title of the post you are reading will accomplish the same thing.  Comments are appreciated.

I tried again tonight.  I am resorting to chemical warfare, natural, organic, but nonetheless chemical warfare.  The weapons: blood meal and Cayenne pepper.  I am determined to have sweet potato vines growing in the large pot on the deck, and the squirrels are determined that it will not be so. 

When we first moved in there were no squirrels.  I longed for them.  When the first one came, I fed it.  Now there are a cluster of them.  I still feed them.  That makes it even more annoying.  The ungrateful buggers.  I have taken care of them day in and day out and this is my thanks — eating my sweet potato vines?

That is not all.  I planted some Salvia in the barrel — four plants.  I caught one eating a salad of Salvia leaves.  More than that, chewing off the stems at the surface of the dirt.  If that is not enough, later I caught the squrrel as he was chewing off the Salvia plants that were still in the flats, awaiting transplantation to small circle of plants in front of the house.  I managed to salvage four plants for the front.  They are still growing a week later.  The squirrels seem not to venture into the front yard. 

I have a theory about the squirrels specifically choosing to eat the Salvia.  I mentioned my plight in the Wednesday morning group that meets on the deck.  One member remembered her daughter mentioning that kids sometimes smoke Salvia to get high.  Apparently a strain of Salvia is a hallucinogen.  I decided that the squirrels are partying on my Salvia!  I haven’t noticed any unusual behavior, but then who knows what  behavior is normal for a squirrel.  Actually, the strain of Salvia kids have smoked has been illegal in Kansas for the last few years. 

I have now been assured by two people that blood meal will repel squirrels  and by another person that the vines will absorb the Cayenne pepper — one bite sending the squirrel screaming in agony.  For some reason the movie Caddyshack, Bill Murray and Gophers just popped into my mind. 

With Mary Ann supervising, in the last week or so, I have planted three large pots on the deck, an area behind the house, a barrel near the front door, a small area in front of the house and will soon plant a vining Petunia on a berm next to the house.  There is very little rhyme or reason to the plants and flowers picked and only limited aesthetic value, but at least they are planted. 

Since our circumstances tie us to the house much of the time, it seems worth the effort to work at creating a nurturing environment.  Flowers and plants are a part of  creating that environment. 

One of the activities that creates interest at home for me is creating a friendly presence for the birds.  There are eleven feeders of one sort or another attached in some way to our little deck.  In addition there are a couple of ground feeding areas in the back yard near a tree behind the deck.  There is a heated bird bath attached to the rail.  I have just hung a new little meal worm feeder outside my office window at the front of the house.  I am still in the process of waiting in hopes that a neighborhood wren will discover it.  We have a speaker in the dining room that picks up bird sounds from the deck area through a microphone just outside the window. 

We have planted trees in the back to provide shade and cover for the birds and squirrels and aesthetic variety.  The wildlife that has wandered through includes a couple of Mallard Ducks who regularly come by to eat, a possum seen once foraging in the feeding areas under the tree, last night a brazen Raccoon stopped by to climb on the deck and munch seed from one of the bird feeders.  I have seen his paw prints more than once in the bottom of the birdbath.  Rabbits hang out under the deck and often join the others at the feeding areas. 

We live in a maintenance free cluster of townhomes with multiple subdivisions in all directions.  We have created such a welcoming space for wildlife because I find their presence to be nurturing to my mental health.  Mary Ann enjoys it some, but mostly just tolerates my penchant for feeding the fauna.   

Next week ABC Ponds will begin work on the pondless waterfall that will be constructed behind the deck.  What precipitated the idea was the need to deal with a problem with standing water behind the houses in our area.  Sump pumps cycle constantly emptying into the area.  The clay will not absorb rain water when comes.  What will be created is essentially a manmade wetland with a deep reservoire filled with natural filtering material, covered with perennial native marginal plants.  The water will be pumped from the base of the well to the waterfall.  Kansas State University has been using this process in recent years to deal with run off. 

The environment I have sought to create is not just a novelty.  It is an essential element in my survival here.  The television provides entertainment for Mary Ann.  I watch my share of it but find it to frustrate my sense of well-being rather than nurture it. 

Many a day we are not able to set foot off the property due to the complexities of Mary Ann’s physical needs.  There need to be nurturing elements in our environment. 

Inside the house are paintings, a metal wall sculpture, antiques, crystal and china and ceramics to add quality and variety to the interior of our home.  A few  years ago I commissioned two members of the congregation, a cabinet maker and an artist to create a small worship center that sits in my office, providing a focal point for meditation.  We have a sound system in the living room that provides a good quality of sound for the occasional time after Mary Ann is in bed for just listening to music that feeds my spirit. 

If I will be a healthy and able Caregiver for Mary Ann, there needs to be regular access to that which nourishes my well-being.  I am then better able to provide for her as nurturing and safe and healthy an environment as possible.  Rather than allowing the four walls of our little living space to be confining and boring, empty of the richness we both need to maintain our emotional health, we have committed our time and resources to creating a nurturing space in which we can live meaningfully. 

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While the owners would not appreciate it, I hope no one purchases a lot and builds a home in the River Hill subdivision.  That undeveloped subdivision provided the setting for a wonderful meal of soul food tonight.

All of us need nourishment for the deepest part of ourselves, the place from which we draw strength for traveling through days that are sometimes filled with too much to do.  Often much of what fills our days does not nourish our souls but instead drains the life and strength and stamina from us.

While my days are not so full as they have been in the past, and Mary Ann’s and my time together is going pretty well, the need for feeding my soul remains.  Tonight it was fed.

Twila came to stay with Mary Ann.  They seemed to enjoy their time together.  There was progress made on a novel — a different one from Elaine’s Sunday morning book.  I headed out to that spot high on a hill, above and behind a new shopping area.  There is a new street that has been constructed, and I am sure the area has been platted with very expensive lots.  No one has bought a lot and built yet.

The spot has trees on both sides bordering the field of varied and colorful weeds that will probably one day be lawns and houses.  The view to the west is beyond description.  There are trees and fields and low rolling hills that extend all the way to the horizon many miles away.  A little area of the Kansas River is visible.  The railroad tracks run along side the tracks. Trains can often be seen and whistles heard as they move along those tracks.

Today, while Mary Ann was looking for a couple of books at the library, I noticed the shelves containing the Classical Music CD’s.  I picked a couple almost at random.  One is called “The Prayer Cycle” by Jonathan Elias.  Actually it both confused and intrigued me when I looked at it more carefully.  It is listed as a choral symphony in nine movements.  The confusing part was that those listed as performers included Alanis Morissette, James Taylor, the American Boychoir, John Williams, Linda Ronstadt, The English Chamber Orchestra and Chorus, and a number of people with names suggesting a variety of nationalities.

To describe the experience I need to borrow a Greek word.  Maybe having to take seven years of Greek is paying off.  The word I am borrowing is the word for compassion. The Greek word for compassion transliterated into English is splangknidzomai.  The first part of the word, splangkna, means viscera, innards, guts.  That is where the Ancient Greeks understood deep feelings to reside. Given the size of the antacid business, I suspect the Ancient Greeks were right. Tonight, the music on that CD combined with the sounds and sights of that remarkable setting to reach into the depths of my splangkna to stir and lift my spirit.

The sun was still a couple of hours from setting when I looked at it hanging in the west.  There were some thin and hazy clouds muting its brightness.  As it moved lower in the sky, it became less and less visible.  The cloudiness had no clear boundary, except that it sort of melted into a mist in the trees on the horizon.  There was just a powerful calming in the view from that hill.

The trees on one side in particular were quaking in the wind providing more power to the calming effect.  They were not the Quaking Aspen of Colorado, but another member of the family.  There were, of course, birds to be seen and heard.  One tiny bird sang a wonderfully complex melody so loudly that I could hear it over the music on the CD.

There was a hawk sailing around for a bit.  I am convinced that the hawk was as exhilarated by the currents under his wings lifting him as I was by the sights and sounds on that hill lifting my spirit.  There were some swallows that appeared to be dancing with one another in midair.  I realized that the dance was their way of catching food.  Without the dance, they would die.  I felt as if I was being surrounded by metaphors one after another filled with clues for living meaningfully.

One part of the scene was the intrusion of the relentless sound of tires on the pavement of a nearby Interstate.  That sound actually seemed to help balance the exhiliration of my lifted spirit with the practical realities of my daily experiences.

Then there was the music.  The music blended choral, instrumental and chant together in the same pieces.  The chant was odd.  It was certainly not Gregorian Chant.  One semester in the Seminary, I had a class in the Solemnes style of Gregorian Chant.  For three years I sang in a small chant ensemble that sang at weekly chapel services.  While this was not Gregorian, it was chant.  The chant and choral music was sung in a variety of languages, Hungarian, Mali, Swahili, Dwala, Tibetan, German, French, Urdu, Latin, English, Italian, Hebrew, and Spanish.  For some reason I had the odd feeling that this chant was a reverent, multilingual, classical style of Rap.

I was struck by the way rich chords and complex dissonances contrasted one another, each more beautiful because it was next to the other.  In the moments of silence between phrases in the music, the birds and the wind in the trees and the sounds of traffic folded more prominently into the experience.

With this feeble attempt at translating the sights and sounds of a moving, spirit lifting experience into words, I intend to say that a couple of hours well spent can feed the soul of a Caregiver whose days may be filled with activities that do not necessarily lift the spirit.  For me, it is the soul feeding experiences that help bring meaning to the daily tasks.  With a well-fed soul, the Caregiving itself can become soul food.

Eat heartily!

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Volunteer Elaine has one rule for us: “Don’t read the book between my visits!”  She doesn’t want to miss any part of the story.  Elaine comes on a Sunday morning once a month for about three hours.  She reads from a novel she and Mary Ann have chosen.  This morning, she took Mary Ann in the wheelchair to the neighborhood vest pocket park a little over a block away.  The two of them enjoyed the flowers folks had planted in the back yards that border the park.  There were a couple of pairs of Bluebirds that entertained them.  When they returned, Elaine started reading.  The next Sunday morning that she comes, she will go on with the next chapter or two in the story.

Each of the Volunteers brings something different to the visit.  Sometimes just watching television with Mary Ann is what is needed.  Other times Volunteers will keep Mary Ann abreast of their own lives and families.  Some do a little ironing (or a lot).  Some will bring food and maybe make the meal while they are here.  All of them expand Mary Ann’s world.

There are times a Volunteer will come while I remain at the house, doing a variety of tasks, sometimes outside, more often in the office at the computer.  That option is especially helpful for Volunteers who might be new to the role, needing to get accustomed to helping Mary Ann, or uncomfortable with or physically unable to do some of the caregiving duties.

Of course there is a benefit for the Caregiver when there is a Volunteer.  As a retired pastor still worshiping at the church from which I retired, I have chosen to keep a low profile.  The church has an Evening Service, one that I started about a decade ago.  It has a comparatively small attendance, and the service is a little quieter and more contemplative than the morning services at which there are lots of folks of all ages coming and going.  The Evening Service is a friendlier setting for those with handicaps since there are fewer people to move through, fewer energetic little ones zipping here and there.

The Evening Service is the one that we have chosen to attend.  When there is a Volunteer available I use the Sunday morning time for solitude.  I usually drive to a lake about twenty minutes from here.  The lake is large and beautiful.  I usually find a spot there to do some devotional reading and just look around at the sights.  Today, after the time at the lake, I drove beneath the dam to a marsh that has been preserved for wildlife.  As I walked along a path beside the marsh, looking at and listening to the birds, as I listened to the occasional frog, watched the dragon flies, listened to the wind blowing through the tall grass, it dawned on me why their was such a calm and comfortable sensation washing over me.

When I was growing up, we lived two blocks from a swamp.  That swamp was my retreat.  I spent hours there, at least until my Mother figured out that I was at the swamp again.  I always went back, no matter how often I got scolded.  I still remember the willow switch stinging the back of my bare legs (unfortunately I was wearing shorts) with each step as we walked back from the swamp after Mom came down to get me.

The sound of Red-winged Blackbirds singing always takes me back to those idyllic days.  I am there again with frogs and cattails and tadpoles and water bugs, with the wind blowing through the weeds.

A few hours away is an essential element in healthy caregiving.  I need those times of solitude, times during which I have no responsibilities.  I stay as long as I choose in one spot and when I feel like doing so, move to another.  This morning I walked very slowly and soaked in every dimension of the experience.  The Great Blue Herons, Meadowlarks, Tree Swallows, Barn Swallows, Orioles, the sounds of the occasional frog, the wind in the nearby Poplar Trees (the greatest for making wonderful sounds when the wind is blowing), all got the time and attention they were due.  Each time I would stop for a while, more variety of sights and sounds would enter my awareness.  They were there before, but until I quieted myself and relaxed, I wasn’t aware of them.  Civilization made itself known through the sound of four-wheelers in an area made for them not far from the marsh.

Mary Ann and I each got a time this morning that was refreshing and renewing and entertaining.  After I came home there were some problems to deal with due to the fainting issue making its presence known.  After we got through that, I made lunch. Yes, I actually cooked!  It is another of those recipes so simple a caveman could do it (sorry Geico guys).

The recipe:  I opened a package of pre-cooked bratwurst sausages and browned them in some oil in a large pan.  After setting them aside I put a large quantity of onions (cut into fairly large pieces) and browned them in the pan with the drippings from the brats.  Then came a couple of spoonfuls of garlic pieces from a jar.  After that I added lots of slices of apples.  After cooking all that for a while with the lid on so that the apples cooked through and softened, I put the brats back in, opened a can of Bavarian style sauerkraut over the top and let the flavors mix and the liquid from the apples and kraut cook down a bit. On occasion I have added a little left over white wine into the pan to deglaze it.  I do that just because it sounds cool.  I guess it also adds a little sweetness. By the way, there is no need to add any seasonings to this dish.  The apples and onions and Bavarian style sauerkraut add plenty of sweetness, and the brats and sauerkraut add the saltiness and lots of flavor.

What made me proud today was that Mary Ann actually ate it and seemed to enjoy it!

After Mary Ann napped, we headed off to the Evening Service.  That was a corporate worship experience for us, and a chance for Mary Ann to get out into a setting that allowed some social interaction.  She did struggle a bit during the service.  There was one fainting spell, but it passed quickly.  We just did a little more sitting than usual during the service.

Getting out with people is another important need both for the Caregiver and Receiver.  It is tempting to stay isolated at home.  While that may be easier, in the long run it will take a heavy toll on both.

We picked up a strawberry shake from Sonic for Mary Ann on the way home.  I made myself a tasty peanut butter and jelly (Blackberry Jam) toast, we watched a little television, I watered the flowers and now I am writing this while Mary Ann is secure in bed — I can see her on the little seven inch baby monitor screen.

This is hardly exciting reading, but it is an account of some of the practical tools  that allow us to travel this journey with Parkinson’s in a way that doesn’t steal from us the quality of our lives together.

If you want to write a comment about this or any of the posts on this blog, look to the column on the right side of this page, titled “Recent Posts,”  click on the name of a post and you will find a box at the end of that article in which you can write a comment.  Clicking on the title of the post you are reading will accomplish the same thing.  Comments are appreciated.