How Is Everyone Getting On?

Summer is essentially here. I've been doing other things over the past few weeks...end-of-school-year concerts, making sure my son has everything wrapped up (or almost) for this school year, tending to daily necessities, making as much money as I can.

This time of year, my income plummets. Student vacations, many parents believe in ceasing all learning activities, are the main reasons. Also, the two weekly orchestras in which I play and teach rehearse only during the school year. I haven't yet figured out a way to capitalize on summer using my abilities. I did try a summer orchestra, but it was eye-opening to me without a sponsor providing a location. I did manage to get a small group going at someone's house, but it wasn't worth it. One rehearsal had 2 people there. I never did attempt that again. A few summers ago, I did get a mailer from another string teacher advertising a summer orchestra that she was doing. I never got another one, and I suspect that she ran into the same kind of obstacles I did.

So....I keep writing. I've been working on my novel and doing independent study on various forms of writing. I designed, printed, and mailed advertisements for summer lessons. Previously, I had advertised in a newspaper for summer lessons, with no response.

A Buddhist friend of mine advises to not fight negative forces, but rather go with them and react differently. By trying to overcome the reduction of lessons, that can be a way of "fighting." So what would be a different way of reacting to it?

One way might be changing industries. Taking a vacation from music. Now, I do teach as many students as are willing over the summer, so I'm not taking a complete vacation. I'm thinking of nurturing copywriting contacts, doing advertising for, say, local businesses.

My requirements are that it must be work that I can do at home (to be with my father and son).

I will keep you apprised of progress.

Interesting Times

It has been an interesting week, and will continue to be so for different reasons. My son recovered from his cold. His school nurse had sent him home after a day of absence to recover. She said he had symptoms of swine flu. Oh, good grief. Two visits to his doctor confirmed a cold.

So he is back in school - much to his relief - and I am back in business.

This week, besides my usual work, will include a rehearsal for upcoming concerts with a chorus (I'm playing in the orchestra accompanying them), and the first of two performances. Then a second concert - orchestral - this weekend.

My son is becoming more and more autonomous, which gratifies me. My father, more dependent.

I've been having more incidents with him, mostly due to inability to accurately communicate. His hearing as well as verbal communication are compromised, and he gets frustrated with me when I can't read his mind. I think he believes I lie to him and make things up.

Some with my son, too. Yesterday he had an appointment for his annual checkup right after school. In order to not waste time, I reminded him a few times, including as he walked out the door on the way to school yesterday, that I will be picking him up in the spot he designated and then go to the doc. So I got to the school in plenty of time, waited and waited until I was the last parent.

Still, no son. I called my father at home asking if he had forgotten and come home.

"Oh, I don't know."

"Well, I kind of need to know since I'm at the school."

"Anthony, are you home? No, he's not home."

I try his cell phone, it's turned off.

I few minutes later, a call from home. It's my son.

"Hi Mom."

"What are you doing home?"

"?"

"Oh....I forgot. Sorry."

"Wait for me at the end of the driveway and jump in the car when I pull up."

We got there at the time of his appointment. However, I wasted 1/2 hour trying to be efficient.

These are the kinds of aaaaaarrrrrgh moments that occur almost daily.

I just laugh about it, for some day when those in my life have moved on, these memories will be seasoning.

Getting By

Sickness has been going around our house since the weekend. My son has a really bad cold. So bad that I thought it might be strep, but a visit to the doc yesterday revealed it to be just a cold. He stayed home from school yesterday, and again today.

I now am sick, and my father apparently has it too. He hasn't gotten up yet but he was coughing all night.

They can stay in bed all day to recuperate, but if I do that I'll go broke, not to mention the messes that won't be cleaned up, the food that won't be prepared, the doors that will be left open. The only way I could ever stay in bed sick with peace of mind would be if I lived alone. Oh, well.

I'll leave it up to all of you, readers of this blog, to leave comments in my (hopefully short) absence.

June

Racing Time

There is a photograph of my parents in my father's room that I had taken while on vacation 34 years ago. I calculated my mother in that picture to be just 5 years older than I am now.

To me at that time, my mother was old. I clearly remember her making age-related complaints at that age (hurting knees, feet, stiff, things along that line). I'm quickly - very quickly - catching up to her. It is scary. Relative to her, I was always young and therefore at an advantage. I want to stay that way.

However, considering the alternative, old age isn't so bad.

I just don't want to feel old. What should we do? Especially since three generations (including ourselves) are riding on our backs.

Maybe the best course of action is to adopt a plan and take it one step at a time. I've been doing spring cleaning for a week now, an hour a day, and making good progress, for example.

I like You - Staying Young by Drs. Oz and Roizen. Their plan supposedly is doable within two weeks. That's a bit intense to be making lifestyle changes so instead, I have a list of all their recommended changes that I am implementing one step at a time.

Avoid "all-or-nothing" thinking. Aim for progress, not perfection.

When I had my beauty consultant business, I used to tell my customers, "If you don't take time, time will take you." There's a lot of truth in that regarding all the areas of our lives, not just skin care.

I Had An Ugly Moment

I'd like to know if any of you have had one of these moments.

I am always able to grit my teeth when frustrated by my father. He doesn't mean to cause difficulty, and almost never even realizes when he does. To point out his errors is pointless; why, so he can make improvements? That's kind of like someone with two months to live worrying about the salt content in their food.

So I'm always understanding about the countless detours and misunderstandings that happen along the way. Like the time I was finished grocery shopping and had just gotten in line, when my father came to me too say he lost his shopping cart. Can't remember where he left it as he stopped to look at something. Well, the store is pretty big, and we went up and down all the aisles, me pushing the heavy cart with the thawing food, until he found it.

I just absorb all of this. Today, though, I lost my composure. I had bought a newspaper this morning that my father doesn't read; I'm looking for a piece written by a reporter who two days ago said she will be calling us to do a story on my son.

About 3 hours later I went looking for the paper to read. I had left it in the kitchen, but found it on the floor next to my father's chair in the living room, under a pair of boots. It was all in pieces, every page taken out, scattered who know where? I tried putting it back together but too much was missing. I didn't disguise my anger.

My frustration was stronger than guilt this time. I apologized later but actually, it felt good to let him know how hard it is to deal with every hour of every day.

My mother had a pressure cooker that she used to cook meat in that made it tender quickly. It had a pressure-relief valve on top. I need a pressure-relief valve.

I don't really know what that should be.

Ideas?

What's Weighing You Down?

Lately, I've been taking to some spring cleaning. I can't face the size of the entire de-cluttering that needs to be done, but I can deal with an hour a day.

It's a small accomplishment so far - an area just 3' X 3' - but with a big mental payoff. I have fired away stacks of old papers, dusty boxes, useless souveniers. I can now easily reach a window that has been shut. Imagine feeling the warm air breezing through! I came across a 33-year-old travel brochure for a vacation place my parents and I went to when I was a teenager. It was a nice few minutes of happy memories.

I never realized how detrimental just a little bit of clutter can be.

Take a casual but objective look around your house or office. What can you improve? What can be cleaned, or tidied up? What can be made more efficient just by changing a location?

Even if it seems insignificant, make the change anyway.

That Sucking Sound You Hear Is Me, Running Out The Door

Today is one of those that you wait for all winter, when spring seems as far away as your next birthday when you were five.

What do you do when spring fever hits? Let me know.

Frost covering everything when I got up this morning, but upper 80's expected the next three or four days!!

Weather as unpredictable as our parents' moods!

June

Protecting Your Time

I've talked before about time management, staying on track towards your goals, etc. But what do you do when your plans for the day are threatened by those in your world who want to trespass and trample on your schedule in spite of your best efforts?

Remember when I bought my Day-Timer a month ago? Since then I have diligently scheduled my time each day in advance, accounting for each minute of my time from 8 am to 3 pm (my son comes home from school then).

The great thing is, I stay on track for my goals, and everything I do pushes me towards their achievement. My goals are simple, such as "vacuum" and as lofty as "grow my freelance writing business." Each journey starts with one step. Many such steps in the right direction will take me there.

I love my pink Day-Timer.

All is not rosy, however. I get angry and frustrated when I am needed for something unplanned that takes more than a few minutes. I see it as evidence of my committment to being goal-oriented.

It is so very easy to happily and comfortably let days go by just taking on obligations as they come, moment by moment. But...this is huge...upon reflection, I resent the hijacking of my life by those who are supposed to care about me.

We must protect our time, goals, dreams, for some day, sadly, those we serve will be gone from us. We must have resources to carry on without them. If we have been giving, giving, giving for years on end, we could very well be be drained of health, finances, and the memory of what brings us joy.

There are no clear solutions. But it seems to me, no matter what we do, we will be angry and upset at times.

Better to do it saving our personal resources.

June

Sandwich Generation Month

Here is an organization declaring July as a Sandwich Generation month http://www.sandwichgenerationmonth.org/ . It has lots of resources that many will find helpful and just plain interesting.

I'd like to read your comments on this.

June

A Frog in Boiling Water

No, I am against torturing frogs. I seem to not be as vigilant in protecting myself, though. The title is referring to an old metaphor about how we unwittingly adapt to harmful conditions, one you've probably heard before.

In case you don't know the story, it essentially goes like this: If you put a frog into boiling water, he'll have enough sense to hop out, quickly.

However, if you put him in a pot of cold water over heat, he'll slowly cook to death, not sensing the boundary between "being a good temperature" and "this'll kill me."

How often we are in that situation. Hopefully it doesn't cause death, but one day our common sense wakes up and we wonder, hey, how did I get in this situation?

The choices I made along the way, the obligations I was compelled to accept, lack of foresight, all led me, conciously or not, to the chair I now sit in. I'll be the first to tell you, mine is not a leisurely life. Sometimes I feel like the version of Mary in Clarence's George-Baily-never-having-been-born scenario. No, I am not feeling sorry for myself, but I have to ask, what went wrong, if anything?

I have on my fridge a magnet that reminds me that the past cannot be changed, but the future can be whatever you want it to be. Another by Winston Churchill, if you're going through hell, keep going.

There is a constant stress in being in the middle of two generations. Just like the frog in the ever-warming pot of water, each small rise in stress on a daily basis goes unnoticed until one day I am doing things I never thought possible a few years ago.

I'd love to hear your story.

It's the Little Things

I don't ask for much, usually. A warm, sunny day after a long, cold winter - a fresh-baked chocolate chip cookie - a bird on my windowsill - woodpeckers nesting in the tree in front - an excellent novel - a good poem - scented soap in the drugstore.

Today, just like the past several days, is cold, cloudy, rainy, a turn-up-the-heat kind of day. If I had a fireplace, it would be going (unless of course by now I'd be tired of that too).

It's things like this that keep me going.

What are the little daily gifts you find along the way?

Sleep

Another article in Glamour magazine tested the scientific proof behind new findings that an adequate amount of sleep (7 1/2 - 8 hours for most people) cut cravings for unhealthy foods and helped weight loss.

A group of women volunteered to make no changes to their lifestyle other than getting 8 hours of sleep every night.

They all lost weight and inches, ranging from 6 to 15 pounds. The biggest challenge was keeping the committment to going to bed earlier than they were used to.

I thought this article was well-done because it followed real people putting it to the test, not simply a self-improvement article.

Collateral benefits reported by the women were increased energy, decreased cravings for junk food, increased desire for healthy foods, and a new connection to their husbands for those women who habitually went to bed later than their husbands.

I'm telling you this because with so many high-priority demands on your time day in and day out, we must create a boundary around our sleep time. With evidence such as this, the benefits are enormous to our physical and mental health.

It was all in the March issue of Glamour.

Time Management II

Yesterday I read in Glamour Magazine an article featuring 100-word biographies, including some examples. That got me thinking about my blog entries - while I love to write and sometimes don't know when to stop, I need to manage the amount of time spent on my posts. That, dear reader, is the reason I am not posting every day. It takes a large chunk of time to formulate my thoughts and then write. Like, an hour.

What would happen if I limit my blog to 100 words?

I would have to be concise and to the point, a good thing.

That was my 100 words!

Junie

Still Around

I'm sure you've noticed that I've been absent from here for a week. There were some pressing priorities.

There were two deaths in two days, one in my family - my father's aunt - the other a close friend the next day. My mind has been wandering and able to concentrate on only the most urgent tasks.

I knew my father's aunt only from a distance, as she lived overseas. My friend, though, was a rock of stability, strength, and humor over the years. I had known him for 33 or 34 years. In my younger years he was a father figure, but became a fellow adult later. He was the sort of person who came with a guarantee of a lifting up whenever we were together. And I'm not the only one. It's just the way he was.

Yesterday, Palm Sunday, with its review of Jesus' last week of life, was a reminder of the fickleness of life. Praise and rejoicing at the beginning of the week, betrayal, sorrow, confusion, the loss of a friend at the end of the week. Hearing the Passion read on Palm Sunday always makes me teary, but I felt even more so yesterday, feeling the parallel between the disciples losing their stability and strength and me losing mine.

My friend was my champion, a believer in me, my positive energy. Now, as the disciples did, I need to take what he taught me and carry it into the world.

Junie

Perspective

Today's topic doesn't have a whole lot to do with being a Sandwich Gen'r as much as it being a general commentary on society's attitudes towards the elderly, as seen through my eyes.

Most people I've come across in recent years have more empathy towards my father the older they are. Younger people tend to be more rude, impatient, and condescending towards him, while middle-aged and older people are helpful, patient, and respectful.

I suppose it has to do with one's personal experience. Those who are middle-aged are likely to have elderly parents. There's a good chance they are caring for them. Maybe they live under the same roof. Their children are likely grown and living on their own.

Younger people are less likely to have an ongoing relationship with a person in that age bracket; despite people generally living longer today, grandparents are more often than not far-flung from their familes. Retiring to a warmer climate, middle-generation career opportunities, all have their separating effect.

I am not passing judgement, merely telling it how it is.

I believe it is the lack of young people's experience with the elderly that is the cause of the disconnect.

I felt compelled to bring this up after countless times witnessing people politely yell at my father, thinking he is deaf when all he really needs is words to be spoken slowly so he can digest them, or repeatedly so he can understand. Or doors closed in his face because he moves too slowly for the person before him.

In each elderly person there is a former baby, a 10-year-old gawky kid, a 16-year-old beauty or handsome young man, a 20-year-old trying to make his/her way in the world, a 28-year-old newlywed, a 30-year-old new parent (maybe yours!) a 60-something retiree, an 80-year-old doting grandparent, a 90-year-old physically-failing but mentally-sharp mind who is a treasure to the world.

We need to remember all these humans in our midst.

Junie

Be Back Monday

I never have time over weekends to publish a new post so I need to be sure to get to this today, being it's a Friday!

So, you may ask, how goes it with your Day-Timer? Is it helping track your time? Is it keeping you on task?

For the most part, yes. Do not expect to adhere to it each day without fail, though. Things happen, stuff comes up.

Take yesterday. My first planned task was to publish a new blog post. Well, I had no internet connection until after 11:00. I don't know what the reason was; the modem and wireless router looked fine. Neither computer could connect, though. I needed to be at an 8:45 appointment, then had to take my father out at 10:00, so I couldn't do anything to fix it until after coming back home. I did pray about it, though.

After coming back home I looked at the situation, and everything was working normally! I thanked God for taking care of it for me. That was so fantastic! As for my schedule, I had some extra time at noon since I had planned to take my father to the drugstore and post office, but he was sleeping. So I used that time for my blog.

This morning was another story. Again, I had my blog scheduled at 8:00. After waking up, however, I found my BlackBerry had died during the night. Couldn't turn it on, and when I tried to charge it I got a message saying there was no battery at all. I rely on my wonderful BlackBerry; they're not called "CrackBerry" for nothing.

I called customer service. I was told there is a software problem in the device which can't be fixed. Oh, joy! So they are sending out a new device to me but I won't get it until Tuesday. Then my father had a 10:00 eye appointment, with an additional 3 stops after that.

As you can understand, my morning was shot. I did have my father's errands in my schedule, but not the stuff preceeding that.

So, a schedule provides the framework around which your day is built. Even though it doesn't turn out exactly as you had hoped, you still have the basic structure. Something still remains to work with.

I visualize the Hindenburg tragedy. We all know how it burned entirely, but the frame remained behind. There will always be something salvageable. Make your frame sturdy and fireproof, so you've got something left to work with.

Now you know why you need a structure, plan, or whatever you want to call it. Not just for your big goals but the smaller daily ones. It's the day-to-day that takes us to the ultimate goals.

Junie

My Cat Approves of My New Day-Timer!

Organization

Yesterday I went out and bought a desk-size Day-Timer (see photo above!). I has everything I need to stay laser-focused during my day to insure not a minute is wasted. My work takes me out in the afternoons and evenings, while my days are spent at home. This schedule works for me since I am home for my son when he leaves for school and comes home, and when he is home during school vacations and summers. Also, my father is never alone except for when I run errands here and there. I'm sure you've figured out by now that I have no husband; otherwise, none of the issues in my life would be issues at all. The only thing is, I'd have different issues!

As a result, I can't afford to waste a minute of my time. This Day-Timer allows me to plan everything in advance. For each day there is an area to write down my to-do list (I've always used a to-do list, but it was disorganized and kind of chaotic), and lines to write appointments from 8 am to 5 pm. Then I check off each task as I do it. So each evening in advance, I plan out (based on my to-do list) what I will do at what time. If it turns out that I can't get to something, I just add it to tomorrow's to-do list, and it gets planned into that day. I don't need to spend time thinking of what I should be doing next, or bouncing aimlessly from one "fire" to another.

I can't stress to you enough the importance of taking charge of your time in this way. So many people need you, and if you try to be accomodating as I am, no one in your life actually cares about your needs...you have trained them to care only about themselves and what to expect from you.

You must help them to understand that this is what you need to accomplish today. I think it's a good idea to ask at the minimum 1 day ahead if anyone will be needing you for anything tomorrow; give them the times that are available.

If someone then makes demands on you that are not an emergency, as I tell my son, "Don't come cryin' to me!"

These days, "nice" is not a helpful state of mind, for you or your family. They need to learn your boundaries and limits, and respect them.

I had allotted until 1:00 for my blog, and it is only 12:45. Now I can start my next task (the one scheduled for 1:00) sooner. Let's see...that will be...go for a walk and type up some student bills for April. It's very freeing to not have to think anymore.

Junie

Wham Bam

I want to show you my daffodils blooming in the garden on the south side of the house. But doing so would involve taking a picture, uploading it to my computer, then uploading to the website. Which would require my postponement of today's post.

So I'll leave it to your imagination as to how beautiful they are.

I am committed to staying on schedule and posting every week day in spite of Nature not needing my care or even concern to do her thing. Life goes on regardless of our troubles and burdens.

The father of a friend of mine passed away last week. He was a member of the Sandwich Generation also and we used to share battle stories, especially since his father was the same age as mine. No longer a "member," but he is mourning his loss. He said he figured he'd get through everything ok, "be all manly and stuff" as he said. Until someone came near with a hint of tears.

This was a topic of discussion yesterday with my writer's group. The pain never really does go away. Life is cruel and relentless. One friend said she is sad for her late sister, because she (my friend) gets to be with her sister's grandchildren while her sister can't be them and enjoy them.

The loss I feel for my mother is the same. Not so much for myself as a grown woman, but for the lost relationship she would enjoy so much with my son, and vice versa. Yes, they had 6 years together, but he is almost a grown man now. He was the apple of her eye, and I can just imagine her love for and pride in him now.

I truly hope our loved ones can still look in on us from time to time.

Junie

Remaining Outside of the Flushing Toilet

A few days ago I received by email a newsletter I subscribe to. The author used an analogy of life sometimes being like a flushing toilet; water swirls around, we panic trying to keep from going down that hole. How easily we can succumb to swirling around and around and around, feeling dizzy and nauseous, panicking in the process.

His advice? We have to stay outside the flushing toilet.

Of course, this is all metaphorical...

But allowing yourself to be swept away by details is a sure sacrifice of strength. How to stay sane?

First, put yourself in a comfortable spot. Take a few deep breaths. Allow only uplifting thoughts to enter your mind. The moment a worrisome or negative thought enters your mind, replace it with a positive one. Since we're on the toilet metaphor, you could imagine flushing each negative thought down the toilet.

Now that you're calm, repeat affirmative statements throughout the day. (Yes, get up from your comfy spot). If you need help with this, I highly recommend the affirmations you can acquire at http://www.thinkrightnow.com/ . Sadly, these are the only uplifting affirmations that some people will ever hear.

Negativity, like all forms of evil, seems stronger than good. Seems stronger, but is short-lived, unlike goodness. Goodness is self-supporting. Evil, self-destructive. Usually it's just a matter of waiting it out until it passes, like a thunderstorm. The key is to emerge stronger, not destroyed.

And...please be kind to yourself. Talk kindly, treat yourself as a good friend. Laugh at and with yourself. You are surrounded by negativity. Don't add more to your already heavy load.

Finally, an example about how insidious negativity is in our society, even among positive-thinking people, and a reminder of how you must keep it out. Recently I played with a group of fellow musicians. We performed for a friend of all of ours who is dying. It sounded truly beautiful and our friend loved it. His appreciation uplifted me. After he was wheeled out of the room in his weelchair, more than half of the people announced to the others how badly each thought they played. I was stunned and saddened by this self-bashing. Was I expected to join in and put down my own playing? Inwardly I shook my head and just left them to their misery.

Thank God for your talents; everyone has them. Yes... everyone. Remember that your talents are to serve others. For today, how can you forget yourself and your difficulties and just do the next right thing?

Stay outside that toilet for starters...

You- Staying Young

I have been reading this book for the past few days, authored by Drs. Oz and Roizen. You may have seen them on TLC. Not just reading but following their recommendations are a part of being good to myself that I've recommended from the formation of this blog.

I don't want to be on my sick bed (or worse) and regret not having taken care of my body and mind when it's too late.

Imagine the Hoover Dam, or any large one. The dam is you, Lake Mead is your resources, and the driving force behind your hydroelectric power plant. The river below is where all of your resources drain to. Now, what happens when the water in the lake drops to a low level? No energy produced, a pretty worthless dam. The river downstream dries up too.

Why did the lake dry up? Did the dam break due to lack of maintenence? Or was it a lack of rainfall? What now?

Don't wait until your resources have dried up, when you can no longer walk comfortably, or bend over, or jump, or eat the foods you love, or afford a gym membership.

Do what you can, today and every day. Your time is stretched so thin these days; your priorities will never be you unless you make it so. Unless you take control of self-care -and don't apologize for it either - your resources will be drained before you realize it.

My dam repair takes the form of walking, taking an aspirin, meditating, taking vitamins, drinking green tea, doing chi-gong (ok...I'm trying that out tomorrow), getting 7-8 hours of sleep (working on it), and other beneficial choices.

Yep, I used to feel sheepish about self-nurturing. Not any more.

Till next time,
June

When Wanderers Cease to Roam by Victoria Swift

Traveling While Staying Put

I stumbled across this book while shopping for a birthday gift for my Dad. It was an indulgence for me, a gift that no one would give me but myself, a thank you from life for my troubles.

Do I sound as if I have to justify spending money on myself? It's time to straighten my priorities.

I'm writing about this book because it is so valuable in teaching about finding treasures in your own little world. I don't call it "little" to be insulting. When your attentions are entirely focused on one stressful situation after another within your four walls, then yes, your world has shrunk somewhat.

But don't despair! It takes just a brief moment to watch the squirrels digging holes in the back yard, looking for those nuts in that must be there somewhere. The summer birds are coming back, building nests in the rose bushes by the back door. The moon is lower in the sky while the sun is getting higher. Dig deeper into your daily life. What details have you overlooked when you were scurrying about in your previous life? I'd love to hear what you can see now with new eyes.

Vivian Swift's non-fiction book comes from the perspective of a former world traveler who put down roots 10 years ago in a small town. It is about learning meaningful lessons at home. In her March chapter she introduces us to the 14 types of mud she has found, and how she treasures her collection of over a hundred teacups. She takes you on a junket of small-town living.

Life is in the details. It is important to keep this perspective as a kind of storm cellar while the tornado of life swirls about you.

Stay underground until it passes. Stay safe. It will pass.

Till next time,
June

Pain As A Teacher

Now, I am a teacher. Really good teachers are respectful but firm with their students. I have had to raise my voice with only one student, ever. I was teaching her the same short song every week, with no progress. She couldn't (or wouldn't) remember how to play basic notes, the first ones taught in every beginning lesson book ("open strings" for anyone who happens to play a string instrument).

Over and over we went on this one song. I calmly kept reminding her how to play the notes she was stuck on. Every time she tried to play, it was a different set of notes she stumbled over. She was calm and intelligent. I believe she was just plain lazy and didn't feel inclined to spend her brain waves on such trivial stuff.

So I finally had it. I raised my voice somewhat, at a volume that was loud for me. She looked shocked. Oh, really?

Guess what? She finally heard me. Miraculously, she could suddenly play the song perfectly.

Pain is a great teacher when more subtle tactics don't work.

The back pain that I had been suffering from the past week has greatly subsided. I deferred to its teaching by sitting and resting more during the day, and by doing some stretching recommended by internet research and my physical-therapist next-door neighbor.

My back is saying THANK YOU!!! It had to inflict this pain on me for me to take it easier while I'm at home. The tightness in my back needed tending to. I needed to be inspired to research a cure. Just knowing I should start stretching "one of these days" is not valid any more than my student coasting along week after week.

A Buddhist friend of mine said recently that when our body is having pain, instead of being angry, we should welcome it and ask what it is trying to teach us.

What are your great motivators to change? Great resistance requires greater force. I believe we unwittingly invite pain when less force goes unheeded.

Take Time or Time Will Take You

I haven't been aggressive enough about publishing a daily post. I do allow myself weekends off from my blog since I work all day Saturdays and while I am home there are just too many demands on my time.

So today I'm making this the first thing I do, even before breakfast. As soon as I hit the kitchen it will be about cleaning, picking up, etc. For example, my dad often misses the trash can as he can't see well. Almost always there is a mess to be picked up next to it.

Yesterday was just impossible, even for me, who is used to such things. Besides my usual paperwork on Monday mornngs, I had to drive my car 1/2 hour away to a body shop for repair (someone backed out of her driveway and right into my car while it was parked on the street in front of a friend's house). Of course I had to ask a friend to bring me back home, then served him lunch. My father's newspaper wasn't delivered so he needed me to go out and buy one. So I had to chase said friend out because our driveway is a one-car-at-a-time setup.

After running that errand I had a writer's meeting to attend. This is the one thing I do that benefits absolutely no one but me and my fellow writers, and my dear blog readers as I hopefully hone my writing skills.

My phone rang twice while I was at the meeting and I ignored it as it was a relative who needs seemingly constant attention from me, for the past 27 years. I returned his call on the way home and was on the phone for almost an hour. He is very needy emotionally and financially and views me as his lifesaver.

I've mentioned before how I attract needy people, right? This will be another blog post about setting boundaries, about which I am no expert, believe me. But, this relative is able to hijack so much of my time and my finances because he becomes very frightening and threatening when I try to sever ties. Deciding between just sucking it up or being fearful of what he says he will do to me, I choose the first option.

While on the phone with him, I said I had to call my father's doctor - still no word about his infection. "Go ahead and call," my relative says. "I'll wait." If I insist that I have to hang up he will become angry, based on past experience.

So I called my father's doctor, one phone at one ear, another at the other ear. My father came to me and while talking to his doctor's office, asked me to ask them about some OTC medication he didn't understand. No problem. Talking to 3 people at once? What, you can't handle that?

I was very tired yesterday after everything. My son showed me his tentative classes for next year, which needed to be signed. I reviewed it - no history? Why are there 2 phys ed classes? What about the foreign language requirement? Why is Algebra I here, shouldn't it be Alg II? My son made a list of questions for his guidance counciler (is that spelled correctly?). I didn't sign my approval. Consult graduation requirements, read course descriptions.

Two more phone calls from my relative. To my credit, I do not always answer when he calls, but he needs an explanation as to why, or he will demand an explanation. Not answering the phone when he calls carries the same burden as, say, committing a crime.

I am so very very tired. I know someone whose mother is dying, who is also an only child, and he has FIVE kids. His wife, he believes, has NPD (narcissistic personality disorder) and stays locked in her room 8-10 hours a day, leaving him to handle everything. She is "punishing" him for "neglecting" her because his priority right now is his mother.

I understand, completely, what he is going through. For those with a tender heart, it seems always the burden to bear.

Till next time - tomorrow, I hope,
June

The Need to be Crabby

Most of you reading here wouldn't necessarily know this about me, but I'm usually described as easygoing and calm. That's fine most of the time. As my responsibilities have increased over the years I have had to fight harder battles to ensure that things that need to be done will get done.

The battles are no longer with my procrastination and other internal roadblocks on the path. By now, I can pretty much trust that I will tend to what needs to be done. It's the others on whom I depend, the professionals, who need to be pushed along. Then my crabby pincers come uncloaked. I don't like it, but when our loved ones are not able to do it for themselves, we are required to step in.

Even before noon today I had to nip at two people.

My dad has an infection (according to "Dr." June Lee). Two days ago, I dropped off the necessary sample at the local diagnostic lab. I want this to be treated as soon as possible, get the antibiotics going. Yesterday I called my dad's doctor to make them aware the lab results would be coming their way. The office was closed. This morning I called again; I was told the lab results were on the doctor's desk. I asked to please make sure to take care of it today as it's Friday. Otherwise, it will be next week before any treatment can start. With a sigh, I was told the doc will definitely look at it today.

My second nip went to the head of the music department at one of the schools where I teach. It is now March, and we teachers haven't been paid yet for January and February. All the paperwork comes through this one person, already filled out; he simply needs to approve it and send it to the accounting department. My "niceness" fell out of my briefcase somewhere between February and March. I sent him an email, this one pointed, with none of the diplomatic phrases I'm known for. Heck, this was my third one without a response on the same matter.

Finally, I received a reply! Let the trumpets sound! He said it was news to him that we weren't paid for January. Honestly. Didn't he read my previous two emails, and those of the other teachers? I sensed a touch of hostility.

Nip...Nip....Nip

Both people are probably complaining at this very minute about me. Horray! It means I'm annoying enough that something will be done!

Sometimes, when you have tried to do the right thing and get no cooperation, give fair warning. Next time you won't be so calm about the matter.

I've become one of those crabby old women.

Say Hi to Maxine.

Change Is Coming

New Day

This morning has been a 180 degree difference from yesterday when I woke up. I attibute it to my back being pain-free. Advil PM is a wonderful thing. I avoid medications as much as possible because of their potential collateral damage. But I really needed it this time.

I took the above photo 15 minutes ago. It's proof that better days are coming. In my little corner of the world the winter has been long and hard, hard like stone; the ground indistinguishable in substance from the rocks and pavement.

I recall during the early days of winter how like the season my emotions were. The Spring thaw still more than two months away. At the time, with no hope for an easy out, I could do nothing but accept the circumstances and deal with it the best I could.

While in the middle of adversity, that's all we can do - dig deep into ourselves and find tools, MacGuyver-like, that we can use to stay alive. Some days, simply staying alive mentally is the main goal. Some days, just shoveling a path to the mailbox is the main thing; making the rest of the world accessible to you.

Take a good look at today's photo. Beside the daffodil is a little pile of remaining snow. A small reminder to cherish the coming warm days.

In the same way, my back pain makes me cherish feeling healthy.

March Forth

My spirit is lagging today. My back pain is still acute, and I woke up with a headache. Never mind, life goes on and I'll get past this.

Burdens seem heavy today. I am thankful to God for the gifts He has given me that bless me with an income. But I still need to go out and earn that income. The need to stay on top of my special-needs son's education in addition to guiding him to be the man he was meant to be. The need to be vigilant over every aspect of my father.

I don't want sympathy. My intention is simply to share my "sandwich" experiences with those in similar circumstances. I need a cheerleader for me sometimes, someone who knows how hard this is.

Most of my "home" work and taking care of Dad's needs are done for the day. Before I leave this afternoon for lessons I am going to start reading the new book just published by my favorite author, a NY Times bestseller, whose books I savor. (Although I have never met him - yet -, I feel privileged that he lives just five miles from me, and we have the same doctor.)

Remember recently I sent out a call to action for today, March 4th? Sometimes that action can be no more than simpy getting through the day. My "marching forth" will be simply that today.

My father just called up to me from downstairs. The gallon of milk he picked up from the store this morning has a leak; he needs me to find a new container to put it in, then clean up the puddles. Another emergency.

That novel is waiting with more patience than I am feeling today.

Ice Packs

I'm sitting at my desk. And sitting...and sitting.

I have a back problem that I have just learned will be relieved by ice compresses several times a day. The only way to keep the compress against my back is by sitting in my office chair for the recommended 20 minutes.

Something has gone wrong along the way. Impatience and a running list of what I should be doing, or will do once the 20 minutes are up, are racing through my head.

Why can't I simply relax and honor the short rest and healing?

Because arrogance makes me think I have all the answers, know all the solutions, am in control.

If it is to be, it is up to me.

For thirty years I lived by that advice, when I thought I had heavy obligations and responsibilities. In retrospect, life was a warm breeze on a sunny day then. Both of my parents were healthy, mentally sharp, and self-sufficient. My son hadn't come along yet. Yes, I was more or less in control of my life then.

Over the intervening years, gradual changes occured. Like the formation of the Grand Canyon, the changes can't be seen without considering the overall picture. My parents aged, my Mom passed away, my son was born and is maturing. Generally though, circumstances were in my control.

Now, following my Dad's decline, in order to stay one step ahead in an attempt to avert trouble, I need to send myself out scouting ahead to all the potential scenarios. It's no longer enough to dwell in the present. My thoughts are now programmed to think in the future too.

So...that's what went wrong along the way. In finding everyone else's life, I lost my own. In pain - and in joy - claim your life, be good to yourself.

Apply those ice packs.

Snow

Sea(son) Change

I made it back. Not that I actually went away. I was simply kept away.

Obligations. You know the deal.

I took this photo this morning. Just when I was expecting an early Spring!
One thing we can be certain about: change happens, expected or not.

One change I've had recently is in my sleep cycle. I have been a die-hard night owl my entire life. Oh, yes...sleep until 10am, go to bed at 2am. I have been at my most productive between 11pm and 2am. That time of day came with a guarantee I would not be disturbed. No one is likely to call at 1am to sell me a basement waterproofing system, or expect me to prepare dinner.

I had the opportunity this morning to sleep as late as I wanted. Snow declared a stay-home day. But...here's the shock...I didn't want to.

What's happened to me? Maybe I know.

Nighttime isn't the guarantee it once was of being undisturbed. My Dad is likely to get up at any hour during the night. If he sees me up, he will strike up a conversation. Not that I don't like talking to him....but....not at that time. My son has always been a night owl too. He can outlast me any night when it comes to staying up.

Mornings from 6 to 7 are now my sanctuary of solitude. I may have to extend that time at some point soon. An hour isn't nearly enough to do what I must.

Maybe I should consider.....hmmmm.......5:30? Like my own circadian change, I am open to adjusting myself to a changing environment and circumstances. Whether a building, a bridge, or a box, durability results from flexibility. The demands placed on us from caring for our loved ones require that we not be stiff and unyielding. We will break if we are.

What are some ways you can give a little? How has your daily routine changed since you found yourself wedged in between old and young? What small things can you do to re-arrange your day, your life. What do you love to do, and how can you incorporate it into daily life?

Flexibility - today nature reminded me that there is no law that says snow ceases on March 1st or 2nd. It's good to blur the boundaries between what should be and what is.

This Is What I'm Saying

In case you noticed, I wasn't able to write a post yesterday. Way too many obstacles. First, I must be alone in order to write something suitable for publication. Yesterday, this never happened. Others' demands of time and attention continue to pull me away from my personal priorities.

Everything is an emergency to the other person.

It's because I am a woman of peace that causes the difficulty - or impossibility - of making myself unavailable. Wrath directed towards me is inevitable. Am I just unlucky that these kinds of people are in my life? Or should I just face the fact that there are no coincidences, and I have created monsters?

I will accept another's observation that I attract needy people. That is a fact, and I am working on it.

I have been an enabler of bad behavior.

However, we do not choose our relatives, but we unwittingly can train them to behave in certain ways. The way I see it, we all attract certain types of people (for better or worse) into our lives, and those we are stuck with - relatives - we train. We teach them with our words, behavior, and affections to act a certain way with and towards us.

So maybe we can't change Aunt Sophie the drama queen, or Cousin Bob's drinking problem, or Uncle Bill's narcissism. But we can choose how much of ourselves we give them; how much time they spend with us.

As for the rest of the world, protect yourself. You are a beautiful, lush garden, but you need an iron fence around you. And a gate is important.


Working on it, working on it.

Pancakes

I'm noticing more and more my Dad's regression as my son matures. My son is fairly autonomous now as far as getting around, limited only by how long a distance he wants to walk. We're lucky to live within walking distance of downtown, schools and our church, so his feet can take him pretty much wherever he needs to go. Dad used to like to walk a lot too.

There was a pancake supper last night at our church. I dropped them both off at the church on my way to the music school. I went inside to make sure at least a few people knew that he was there without me. I had told my son do not let his Grandad walk home - even with him - since it would be dark out, and there are no sidewalks on that street. Even though it's a short distance back home (our house used to be the church rectory, after all), he can't see well as it is, less so at night. I told the person who had asked that I'd be returning at 8:30 and would pick them back up then. It seems silly for them to have to wait so long because of a short distance, I know.

Another woman heard me and said she'd bring them back home, bless her!

The point of this story is that my son no longer needs to be driven anywhere in town; now my Dad is the one who can't be out on his own, needs to be watched, needs to be taken care of. Caring for him feels like my son roughly around age 10.

The other day I had bought a pair of "isolation" ear buds for myself. I love listening to music of course, the purer the sound, the better. Afterwards, I realized I will never be able to use them, for the same reason I can't spend large chunks of time in my 3rd-floor office; I need to be always listening in case something goes wrong in the house.

Several months ago, a friend suggested to my Dad that he should go to the local senior center during the day. It's free, even better.

He didn't want to. What's wrong with being home?

Well, nothing. . . unless you're me. I am going to make a point of taking him there occasionally.

For me.

Fragrance

March Forth

It's old news that daily exercise is healthy for your mind as well as your body. If you are like me and have a full dinner plate (and salad, bread, and dessert plates for that matter...), negative energies accumulate within. In spite of efforts to supress or deny them, this negativity expresses itself later in seemingly unrelated, unhealthy ways.

Backaches, headaches, irritability, illness, self-hatred, problems with just about any body part. Toxic build-up needs to be dissipated in some way. The wrong way is denial or attempting to push the negativity back down as if overstuffing a bag of rags with one's foot.

Emotions pop up again and again like a Jack-In-The-Box. Only this kind is anything but cute and funny.

There are many articles devoted to the effects of exercise on the mind and emotions, so I will leave any research you may need in your hands. Let me simply say that March is almost here, outside days are nearer, and the best thing we can do for ourselves is get out there, greet the day, appreciate the beauty.

Walk and observe.
Don't just breathe...smell the fragranced air.
Open your ears to intentional listening. What sounds do you hear?
Simplify your experience.
Get out your boots or trail shoes. Walk in mud! Splash in puddles (of melting snow at the moment!).
Find a plant you've never seen.

Leave a comment on how it went for you.

How did you feel after your walk?

March 4th is the day I always start something healthy; it's a day of "marching forth" into the world, and what lies ahead.

Blessings on your day.

Duck Weed

Triangulation

Family dynamics, like the flow of water, are ever changing; sometimes pure, sometimes polluted. The family is as necessary to us as water; similarly, misunderstandings are the sewage that contaminates what should be a healthy, healing, and restorative home.

And oh, how often those misunderstandings come about when a family member's thought process and hearing are impared. Let me share with you an incident I never saw coming . . .

Dad was in his room on the second floor, I was in my third-floor office. My son had just seen an amazing video on tv he wanted to tell me about. The door to the third floor is beside Dad's bedroom door, so of course he could easily hear my son as he called up to me describing the video. The subject was someone who had attempted to fill a propane tank at night, couldn't see what he was doing, and lit a match! This is all great stuff to a boy.

It so happens that Dad didn't catch the details of the story. It was something about a gas tank blowing up. When he asked my son what he was talking about, he answered, "Oh, nothing, Grandpa, I was just talking to Mom." It's easier to say that than have to explain.

A few minutes later my father came to me, looking angry:
"What's going on that I don't know about?"
"What do you mean?"
"I heard Anthony telling you about a gas tank blowing up. I know he was talking about the kerosene heater in the cellar. I know he did something, and I want to know about it. I want to know what's going on and why both of you are keeping it a secret!"

Whew.

I explained to him that we no longer have that heater. I also had to explain to him that my son was telling me about a video on tv, and that he told you "nothing" because it was easier to just say that than have to explain the conversation from start to finish. As I was doing now.

I think he got the drift, but he got the in last word by scolding me - "Well, I want to be told what's going on from now on!"

I need to wear one of those "helmet cams" so I can simply hit play when the need arises.

As you can imagine, my son wanted to know what he did to make Grandpa mad. I then had to explain how he had jumped to conclusions based on things he thought my son said and then reacted.

I cautioned my son that whenever he says something, Grandpa will think it's meant for him and ask for an explanation.

As a matter if fact, I stopped talking to Puddykins my cat, because it wasn't worth having to explain to Dad that I was talking to the cat, not him, and all I said anyway was that he looks so soft and silky.

Enter Here

Kindred Spirits

It's a joyful thing to find someone who can relate to your challenges. The conversation came up with my stand partner in one of the orchestras I play in. His 87-year-old father lives with him and his wife. I knew this for some time, but we got to comparing our fathers; I was amazed by how like my experience John's is. It seems we must have the same father! He told me of his dad accusing him of taking his money, of not saying things he has just said, of not doing things he has just done. John feels as I do, the need to correct him.

I'm starting to think trying to correct is the wrong tactic. Nothing is really resolved when I tell my father, "But you just said you paid that bill." He thinks I'm jerking him around, I get frustrated that he doesn't understand I am speaking the truth. He has no memory of what happened ten minutes ago; how can he not know? John told me of trying to correct his father too, with the same negative results. I felt huge relief knowing that I'm not alone.

Perhaps a better course of action would be to not argue with our older loved ones, but rather just drop the subject and forget about it. Why do we need to prove we're right?

Just forget about it. Chances are, our loved one already has.

Guilt

As I write today's post, let me remind you that I will be adding (hopefully!) helpful information regarding family dynamics in multi-generational relationships. That is coming.

For the present, though, I am going through the most raw and surprising emotions I experience in the hope that it will strike a chord in you as well. Perhaps you will be reassured that you are not alone.

Guilt. The most unjustified of emotions. Largely self-inflicted and unnecessary. I have an endless supply of it. Here are some of my "justifications" for feeling guilty:

My son has no siblings. I am an only child and I swore, promised myself I would not have just one child. Siblings seem to be nice to have when everyone's grown up. And their kids a ready supply of friends to one degree or another. Would you believe, my son's father is an only child too? So my son has no aunts, uncles, cousins, brothers, sisters, nieces, or nephews.

I am guilty for turning him loose in the world (when that time comes) with no family, not much of a support system. And believe me when I tell you there are other guilts I feel.

I resent my Dad's constant presence in my life. A truly "good" person would graciously tend to his/her aging parent without complaint, in payment for all the sacrifices said parent made for the gracious child's upbringing. A "good" person would happily look forward to each day spent with his/her parent, knowing that the remaining days together are numbered.

I, on the other hand, think of strategies to get away from him for little bits of time. Leaving home for my lessons is always good, and I don't even have to feel guilty about it as it is my job. Oh, wait. I do feel guilt over leaving my son soon after he gets home from school, though. But time away of my choice might be going to the library, for a walk, to lunch with a friend.

I often feel anger towards my Dad. But - I rarely if ever express it. Again, a "good" child should be thankful for this time with his/her parent, not anger! If only.

I don't do enough financially for either my son or my father. My Dad helps me out financially here and there. I should be supporting him, though, not the other way around. Guilty. My son doesn't get the same opportunities to go on vacations as most of his friends. My only income comes from my two hands...nothing comes in from the outside. I am guilty of being lazy (if I weren't my income should be greater, shouldn't it?), selfish (I chose self-employment over corporate dog-eat-dog America long ago). For the bad financial choices I made which makes my Dad and my son do without some things that I would be able to provide for them if I had been smart from the beginning, add dumb to my list of guilt.

Hold on a minute! Doesn't self-imposed guilt cripple us? How is it helping me get through it all? If I were a friend talking to me, what would I say?

What would you say to yourself?

Till tomorrow - remember "Rule #1: Be good to yourself."

Let's explore what that means, soon.

Frustrations

My intention in creating this blog was to post a new entry every morning. I've succeeded in the first part; the "morning" part . . well . . .

I needed to run some errands this morning. The usual places - one bank to make a deposit, another to open a new checking account, the post office. I announced my departure to Dad. Being a grown woman, I appreciate solitude and freedom from being needed once in a while. I was looking forward to time in the car listening to a cd. However, I do need to tell him where I'm headed and my expected return time. Unless I do, he might just call in a missing person's report.

Not so fast! My hand on the door knob, he asked me to wait a minute. He has some places to go himself. So what could I, a loving and caring daughter, say when he needs me? Uh, sorry but two's a crowd? Or, I need to have a private conversation with God?

I still have issues with myself, namely. . . the establishment and enforcement of boundaries. I know this, but the very people I need to protect my sanity from do not.

So off to the bank Dad and I go. He needs me to come inside with him to make sure he doesn't "screw anything up." Maybe it's good that I did, as his papers almost ended up in a wastebasket as he took them out of his folder.

If I weren't so mad all the time, his actions would be funny. Like, "if I didn't hate the world so much, I'd like it." I'm quoting myself.

The bank visit went ok. Then we had to go to borough hall to get a replacement tax bill because he says he can't find the original. This is nothing new; his paperwork system looks like a tornado visits our house at least once a week. It feeds on paper. Every time he can't find a paper my son and I are supposed to stop what we're doing and help him find it. I told him today his habit of making copies of every bill and check that comes in the mail has to stop. He has trouble telling the copies from the originals and files them together. Imagine trying to cash a copied check, then not knowing what happened to the original. Yes, it has happened.

Missions completed, we're back home. It was when gathering up my things in the car that I realized I didn't even do what I had set out to do in the first place! So Dad went inside, and I was able to go to the banks in solitude as I had planned. Hey, it looks like I planned it that way!

While in the bank officer's office setting up my new account, my cell phone rings.

It's Dad.

Which is a better time for me to take him to his accountant tomorrow, 9am or 11am? I told him 9:00 (to get it over with early in the day, to be honest).

"Well ok, as long as you make sure I get up early enough." Of course. Isn't that what I do?

Returning home, my cell phone rings again. It's a relative. Maybe you have one like this, too. He needs me to drive to a store 1/2 hour away to pick up a big sheet of glass. It just won't fit in his car. Are you kidding? But he's in a bind and doesn't know what else to do. His voice is filled with growing anger.

I offered that tomorrow I am nearer to the store and it would be more convenient for me to pick it up after my lessons are finished. I held to my guns on this.

Remember my saying I was working on boundaries? This seemed like a good opportunity to practice.

He wasn't happy, but did say he'd try to work something out for tomorrow. We'll see how that goes.

After I returned home I needed my lunch. Don't deny a middle-aged woman with hot flashes her lunch. Ever. As soon as I opened the door, Dad says to me from the dining room that he needs me to go through his mail pile. "I was waiting for you to get back home."

Being the master multitasker, I was able to prepare my lunch, eat it, AND look at his mail. Everything looked to be in order from what I could tell. I wasn't actually sure what he needed me to look for, and I think he forgot anyway.

So I finally am able to write this post.

Blessings to all who read here!

Waiting

As much as I make plans in order to avoid wasted time, waiting is an inevitable part of my day. It seems no matter how efficient I am, waiting by the back door on the way out is my destiny.

This morning, Dad needed to come with me as I went grocery shopping. I gave him a ten -minute warning before leaving - my measly attempt at planning. I had reminded him this morning that today was "shopping day" so he had his list, coupons, money, etc laid out on the kitchen table. Without the reminder I would have waited for him to gather up his various parts. That would be good for about 1/2 hour. Believe me when I tell you I've been down this road before.

So Dad has a 10-minute warning. "OK" is his reply. No sweat, this is going great; an hour for shopping, 1/2 hour to put stuff away. I should be able to have lunch at 11 and get some reading in before I leave for lessons at 3:00.

I tell him ok, time to go. He gets up from his chair in the living room, walks into the kitchen where I am waiting. This is going well! Oh, wait. He stops, says he'd better go to the bathroom first. The bathroom is upstairs. So there I am again.

Ten minutes later, we're on our way.

Daily Life Has Many Facets - Here Is One

Insomnia does not intrude on my sleep. After my kind of day - and I'm willing to bet your kind too - all my body cares about is falling into bed. Sometimes later, during the deadest of sleep - the stage when waking up to a loud noise leaves you feeling as if you had to burst out of fifty feet of water, gasping for air - Dad gets up to go to the bathroom. The route from his room to the bathroom takes him past my room. Always, I leave my door partially open so I will hear if something unusual happens. Always, his heavy, unsteady plodding wakes me.

As you know, he is 88. Tiptoeing and avoiding the squeaky spots in the floor are no longer his concern. He just wants to make it to the bathroom and back without crashing into stuff by his unsteady gait.

I listen until he returns and his bed makes that familiar creak and all is quiet. I have recently taken to putting my son's old baby gate across the top of the stairs, after Dad, in his sleepy fog, mistook the top of the stairs for the bathroom one night. He fell down the three steps to the landing. My heart pounded as I flew out of my bed, not stopping to grab my glasses (much less taking the time to put my contacts in). All I could see in the darkness with my -9.50 nearsightedness was a crumpled pile of white pajamas. What a rude awakening for him, expecting to be in the bathroom but instead on the stairs landing.

Part of me cried inside - what had become of my omnipotent Daddy?

As I helped him up and into the bathroom, he assured me in that understated way of his that he was fine. An hour or so later, I was able to relax and resume my sleep.

Since that night, the baby gate has allowed me to feel a degree of assurance that Dad will reach the bathroom without incident. Its presence, while reassuring, is also sad.

I am aware of the irony that his aging is following the same arc as my son's growth, only in reverse.

Food for another post.