DOGS ARE HERE FOR A REASON AND IT COULD BE FOR YOU!
If you are going through a tough time in your life, get a dog. If you have a dog, take it for a walk or play with your canine buddy.
If you are depressed, pet your dog for about ten minutes. If you’re depressed and do not have a dog, go by your local animal shelter and sit with a dog. Talk to the sweet animal. It will listen. Trust me. You will feel better and so will the dog. You do not need to adopt the dog, just visit a few times now and then. Or borrow a friend’s dog.
If you’re feeling the need to give to a charity or help your community some way, go volunteer at an animal shelter or foster a dog, or kitten! If you cannot get out and are home bound, donate a little dough or bag of dog food or cat chow.
If you’re overworked, go home to a great friend who will love you unconditionally and wag with unfettered affection as you walk in the door.
If you’re angry and upset, a dog doesn’t want you to be in that state so just wait a few minutes before approaching your pet.
If you need someone to talk to, blabber away at a dog. They will find your conversation fascinating.
Many people give their dog a royal name: Queenie, Rex, Prince, Duke, Duchess. Do they do that to signify that the dog is considered equal to royalty? Their dog should be put on a throne? I have known dogs named for their furry characteristics: Fluffy, Cocoa, Brownie, Midnight, Penney. Others are named for being a true friend: Pal, Buddy, Bro, Dude. Many silly names come up also or celebrity names given to dogs or names in foreign languages. Naming your dog is a personal decision.
I’m just saying that a dog can help you through life. You don’t believe me? Try it. If you have already tried all those things mentioned above, I congratulate you. If you already know all that dogs can do for you, then you’re a smarty. Go tell your dog, whatever its name, (who should be called Angel from Heaven) that he/she is a goood dawg.
I know that’s a long title, but I’m 70ish, so I can have a long title if I think it’s necessary.
I recently saw a quote that gave me pause. It said we should strive to be the kind of person we want to spend the rest of our life with.
I have flaws. I can be unreasonable, reactive, impulsive, and lazy, to name a few. I can do better.
My sweet daughter-in-law gave me a prayer journal, and I think it’s really helping me to become a better person. I try to write in it every day. The prompts encourage me to think about others instead of myself and my perceived needs all the time.
I’m a worrier. I can get deep into the throws of worry. I know in my heart that it is a waste of time and a lot of energy. It’s hard to catch myself and try to change my thoughts. It’s a habit that I have indulged for many years, so it’s difficult. The point is, I don’t want to spend the rest of my life with a worrier.
I don’t want to spend the rest of my life reliving the past and agonizing over things I wish I’d done differently. I want to spend the rest of my life with someone who smiles more. Someone who looks for and finds the good in people, places, and things. I want to spend the rest of my life with someone who appreciates all the good things in life and looks forward to each day with joy.
I want to spend the rest of my life accepting all that comes with aging. I hope I can walk through the rest of my life with grace and humor.
Who do you want to spend the rest of your life with?
Maybe you know how caring for a cancer patient can be a downer. It also can be complicated with intermittent hope. There are many low dark days sprinkled around. I always have the thought lying dormant way in the back of my mind under the cobwebs, all the dusty memories and brain clutter that this will be over and my husband will be healthy in the future. Somewhere down this dark road with its stop signs, road blocks and speed bumps, we will both come out on the freeway in the fast lane, foot on the gas doing 85 maybe 90 driving a Porsche Boxter convertible. We will be celebrating that this long drive is about over…. No more blood tests, nor Scans, nor video doctor visits, nor immunotherapy, nor meds changing, adjusting and adding and removing. We will be smiling and waving to other people as we pass their cars behind. We will be free. Cured. Alive. Maybe this new life is a possibility. Who can tell? I can’t hear the sound of life’s problems because the wind is whistling in my ears as we drive, and my eyes are staring ahead at the pavement as my mouth is open tasting fresh air as well as fresh bugs. The Porsche keeps transporting me away into a dreamy heavenly ride to a nonexistent destination.
YOU KNEW IT WOULD BE RED- RIGHT?
Then I shake off all that dusting of hope, my old mind kinda clears and I look at reality, at the old car in the driveway, no Porsche, and at the calendar on the fridge with its many appointments to come. Sitting in our old car, there is no end to it all looking out the rear view mirror, no other cars and definitely nothing out the pitted, dirty front windshield. I cannot clean it. I’m afraid the cancer is still on the medical records and onto the future and two years of infusion treatments are looming. We have to stick it out. We must drive on. We have to grab the few moments of happiness and not let go. Good memories are back there somewhere. We will always try to call forth those times. However, we have this issue, this problem and we will deal with it.
I have a short trip planned to visit our oldest son this weekend in southern California, and our second son will stay at home with his Dad. I am going to take this vacation to breathe, have fun with my son and go places. I might even pretend I am free for a pinpoint in time. I’ll take my foot off the gas and cruise through a museum, go out for a leisurely coffee and lunch and an extra long dinner out with my son and maybe even have a glass of wine. It will be a break in the routine. Caregivers need to take those breaks. Plus we need to let family help out.
COFFEE BREAKS HELP EASE THE STRESS.
NAPS ALSO HELP !AND PACIFIERS.
I was watching an old series called BAND OF BROTHERS . Marines lived through horrendous battles and withstood grueling conditions in WWII and one scene showed an officer making a young Marine go back to the medical facility in a safe zone for some R and R, saying even a 24 hour break away from the front lines can help a weary soldier. The results could help prop up a young man’s morale. I’m not saying I have experienced anything like those brave young fighters did, but I’m sure a little respite will help me ten fold. I have an attitude of gratitude for any break I can grab. You should grab one when the opportunity comes, just like the young Marines did pushing themselves to the brink in wartime then getting an officer command them to go to the rear for a brief rest. Caregivers need someone advising them to take a timeout. Go to the rear and recover so you’re ready for the next battlefield because the end is not near.
WHO KNOWS WHERE THE ROAD WILL TAKE YOU? HOPEFULLY IT LEADS YOU TO SOME PEACEFUL REFRESHING PLACE AND TIME – AT LEAST FOR A WHILE.
Kip and I really lead an exciting life. If you don’t believe me, read on.
There were 2 bird feeders in the backyard when we moved into this house. We continued adding birdseed to them and enjoyed seeing all the birds, including a pair of cardinals, come by to partake. And then, we encountered a problem.
We watched the birds through the glass patio door. Our dog Nellie became interested when the squirrels started to enter the backyard enticed by the bird seed.
Nellie hates squirrels and she did not like them in her back yard. She started to bark and cry and jump on the door, so Kip and I set out to remedy the situation.
Our first attempt was to buy what were called squirrel repellent balls. We hung them in bags on the fence and bird feeders. They sort of worked until it rained, and they lost their scent.
Next, we found a fake owl that had a squirrel setting designed to make a sound that would deter squirrels. It was solar powered. We thought it was going to work, but we were kidding ourselves. It was wishful thinking, probably because we had invested $35.00 in it.
Nellie continued to be terrorized by the same two squirrels. By this time, they were getting very bold.
The next thing to come from Amazon was a squirrel trap. It was designed to lure the squirrel inside, and then the door would come down and trap him. We used bird seed for bate.
The trap worked. We trapped both squirrels and let them loose in a big park a couple of miles away. Finally, Nellie was no longer aggravated and irritated by those 2 peskie squirrels.
2 days later, another squirrel showed up…darn!
Our final and lasting solution? We got rid of the bird feeders. Now, we’re without squirrels and birds, and Nellie is bored. So are we.
Shortly after we moved to Texas in 1987, we got a visit from my mother. She told us she had gotten a letter from her brother, my Uncle Jeff. He said their mother’s sister, Grace, lived in Texas. None of the family had ever met her.
My Grandma Sanderson grew up in Iowa. She was from a fairly well to do family, which included 13 children. Grandpa spotted Grandma when she was singing in the church choir. They married and moved to South Dakota when she was the ripe old age of 28. Aunt Grace was 13 years younger than Grandma, and they would have only seen each other the few times that Grandma and Grandpa paid visits to Iowa.
Grandma’s parents came for a visit
Anyway, Mom insisted we pay her Aunt Grace a visit. We ended up spending a lovely afternoon with her. She commented that she didn’t remember her sister well. She sounded just like Grandma and was somewhat of a spitfire like Grandma was. She was small in stature and we thought it was cute that she kept her little flats on with rubber bands.
She had taped several family pictures on the wall and proudly went through each person’s story. She had lived through the deaths of her husband and both of her kids. The only family she had left was a grandson who treated her very well.
Kip and I visited Aunt Grace several times over the next year. She loved to go to Luby’s Cafeteria for Sunday lunch. One Sunday, we were going to try someplace different, and she seemed so disappointed we turned around and went to Luby’s. On Easter Sunday, they had a lady playing the piano, and Aunt Grace thoroughly enjoyed that.
A couple of weeks before Thanksgiving, I started to try to reach Aunt Grace by phone to see if we could come and get her and bring her to our house for Thanksgiving dinner. She never answered. One evening, we drove over to her apartment and knocked on the door. A neighbor heard us and came out to tell us Aunt Grace had passed away. She gave us the number for her grandson. We called him, and he told us she had passed away peacefully in her sleep. He had thought about calling us, but didn’t have our number. He thanked us for taking her to Luby’s on so many occasions and said she talked about it all the time. She especially talked about the piano player. We, in turn, had heard really good things about him.
Yes, she was a little spitfire. She used to ride the bus to get her groceries and she was so little, one day the wind got ahold of her as she grabbed onto the door and she said it blew her straight out. She said she was flying and she feared she would lose her shoes. She said she went back home and waited for the wind to die down.
We Sanderson kids were really close our grandparents. It was so much fun getting to know Grandma’s little sister here in Texas. What fond memories. Family is everything.
I joined a few friends for lunch the other day, and as is normal for ladies who are 70ish, the conversation quickly centered around medical issues. My thoughts went to a phone conversation I had years before with my mother. She went down the line of several medications she had tried out in hopes of relieving her constipation. Since I was only in my early 40s, I quickly became bored with the topic and tried to change the subject. Mom said I sounded like I was bound up, and I should try 3 tablespoons of Metamucil in a cup of water.
It was quite an experience to have a phone conversation with my mother. She was not well versed in telephone etiquette. When she was done talking, she just simply hung up. There were no goodbyes. She never said, “I’ll talk to you later,” or, “Have a nice day.”
I’ve been thinking about my mother a lot lately. Her birthday is on May 6th, and it was always just a few days before Mother’s Day. I got her a lot of gifts that were combined Mother’s Day and Birthday gifts feeling it was only fair since my birthday is a week after Christmas and I received a lot of joint presents.
Mom was actually quite fun to grow up with. She was funny and spontaneous. There was never a dull moment around our house. She had no filter, so we never had to wonder what she was thinking. I once had a date with a basketball player and when he came to pick me up, she said she didn’t recognize him with all his clothes on, meaning she was used to seeing him in a basketball uniform. I was so used to her that I didn’t even get embarrassed, but I think he did.
I could go on forever recalling Loretta funnies that always make me smile. She was a good Mom in a different kind of way. She taught me a lot of very useful things that I have relied upon in my adult life. When I had cancer, I asked myself, “What would Mom do?” The answer was she would have tried to brush it off like a pesky fly. Although, we all know it’s usually not that easy.
Happy Mother’s Day to all the valiant moms out there. It’s not an easy job, but no job in this world is more important.
ANGER AND RESENTFUL FEELINGS CAN PERCOLATE WHILE CAREGIVING
As you take care of a terminally sick person over weeks, months, years or even just temporarily, you might become beset with questions like:
Why am I doing this?
How did it come to this? It’s too difficult. I can’t carry on day after day, sometimes not even getting a full nights sleep before the whole job starts over again. Is this Monday or Saturday or does it even matter?I’m working my fingers to the bone. Worse yet, I can’t feel my fingers.
What did I do to deserve this?
How did I go wrong? I didn’t volunteer to be a caregiver. I’m not trained for this. I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m working like a stevedore. I’m too old for this.
Can I take a nap? Can I just walk out the door and never return? Don’t I deserve to be on a beach somewhere just lazing in the sun, cold drink in hand?
The ill person that I take care of doesn’t even seem to appreciate what I am doing sometimes. They don’t always thank me. What makes the situation even worse, is that I am now feeling ticked off when I’m supposed to be patient, kind, caring and helpful. Instead I’m feeling full of resentment toward the person and the situation I’ve been thrust into. I’m working hard but I’m supposed to be retired. I do not want a job at 70ish.
Resentment is a mean word. It can fester and grow and be like cancer- tough to fight and tough to eliminate from your mind and body. It makes me feel guilty that it’s come upon me…now…in my Golden Years.
I was talking to someone recently who had cared for a loved one with a different disease, Alzheimer’s. He said sometimes the patient would lash out at him, be rude, mean, irritable, almost violent. The more we chatted, it came to the surface that these people who are terminally ill, are feeling trapped and angry. They’re in a bad place. It seems hopeless to them. They don’t understand nor do they try to after a while. Hope fades and we caregivers need to just try to keep some positive vibes going no matter how dire the circumstances. But it’s not simple. You cannot blame these ill people. They feel trapped as can caregivers.
I have no answers. I have a few suggestions. Just know that if you’re a caregiver currently or have been one, it’s normal to feel resentful. When it falls upon you, seek help. Even a telephone call to a friend or relative will help. Vent, gripe, complain and let your feelings out. If someone can give you a break, take it. It’s normal to feel this way.
Uncalled for Comments Met with Apology, Respect and Rewards by Valerie Halla
KEEP TAKING WALKS AND TAKING BREAKS. IT HELPS CLEAR THE MIND AND REFRESH YOUR DAY.
I’m still a caregiver and I’m still learning about how to deal with giving up my time for the 24/7 job of helping another person through a cancer diagnosis and I’m learning every day that people can be angels- sweet angels on earth.
Another major lesson I am gradually getting pounded into my tired little brain is: take a break now and then. Now sooner than then, because I’m no spring chicken. I’m not even a summer nor fall chicken. Maybe more like a winter chicken in that time of year when the snow is piling up in drifts all around me. So it is necessary to hit the ground looking for people who can help me enjoy life and shovel off the snow drifts, to have a little down to earth, friend’s fun time.
A few months back I thought i needed to stay home and not go out because my caregiving responsibilities did not allow for time out. More recently I am definitely taking some breaks. Today I met an old friend, whom I’ve known since the 1960’s. We met up at our local coffee shop for just an hour which was packed with catching up and opening up. But before that, something sweet and refreshing happened. Something which showed me how wrong I can be.
I was waiting in line to order a hot drink, standing in front of a tall young man who had a serious expression and looked straight over my head, He was maybe 35 with a trim haircut and a young nondescript face. At my age everyone looks young. As I stood there in front of the stranger, waiting, my friend of 70ish years walked stiffly through the door and got behind this young man. She was obviously struggling with arthritis. I turned to hug her first asking this man if she could skip ahead in line to stand with me. We were already jabbering about seeing one another.
.He said, “As long as it’s quick.”
I said to him, “You know, just go ahead of me in line.” As he stepped hurriedly in front of me, I hugged my dear friend and said, in a disgusting voice “These younger generations!” I was being critical and was hopeful he hadn’t heard me. My friend and I started talking again and smiling since we hadn’t seen each other in over a year. I wanted to have a serious conversation also with her because she didn’t know my husband had melanoma brain cancer and I needed to let her know.
Just as we turned to place our order, the smug young man finished ordering, then he stopped, looking at us and said, “Hey, what would you ladies like?” holding up his credit card. “I was rude, so sorry and tell me what you want to order…a drink, any food? I’m buying.”
We were flabbergasted beyond flabber and gasted.
“Uhhh, what do you want, Madeline?” I stammered.
“That’s very nice of you! I’ll have a hot tea, a black hot tea”
Looking up at him I said, “I’ll take a tea also, the same.“
He then suggested,”Any food?”
We both said, “No thank you. This is very kind of you”
Madeline added, “This is a big deal for two old ladies!”
Feeling guilty I tried to make a joke. “Well, maybe if they had steak and lobster I’d take that, and you could pay for it, but I know they don’t serve it here so just tea is good!” The so called joke fell flatter than my joke telling skills and no one laughed. No one even smiled. I tried to grin but stopped.
He paid for our drinks. We sat down waiting for our order and after he got his order, he left.
A SIMPLE CUP OF HOT TEA CAN BRING ABOUT ENLIGHTENING RESULTS ESPECIALLY WHEN A STRANGER INTERVENES.
We both looked at each other and were glad we had gotten free drinks. We got much more than free drinks. I said to my dear pal, “I guess he heard me say that derogatory remark about this younger generation or maybe he’s just a sweet guy. Either way, I feel badly that I didn’t see the good there and he restored my faith in youthful people. What a great gesture.”
We both agreed we had met someone special. There are good people around and we had been blessed meeting one; a young man who made our morning even better. I figured that this experience should make me a better person also. It might have rubbed off on me. I’m hoping it did. There is always room for improvement and life offers us lessons for us sometimes in the least expected places. Just because I am 70ish, doesn’t mean I can’t learn, and love others.
I ALREADY KNEW ALL THAT ABOUT LOVE AND LIFE’S LESSONS. I AM ALSO PRETTY DARN SMART.
I love photographs. I can look at them for hours. I just spent the day going through boxes of old pictures. It was an emotional experience for sure. All those moments frozen in time. Impish grins of little children long since grown up. Snapshots of times deemed important by the one who captured the moment.
It’s kind of sad that my printed photos stopped at the time digital cameras came on the scene. Now, all my pictures are living in a cloud somewhere. I email and text the good ones to people I think might enjoy seeing them, but more often than not, my captures are never looked at again. It might be different for you. I’d like to know how many people out there still print the special ones…the birthdays and graduations. How many organize their photos in special folders, and then go back and actually look at them again. I hope you do. I’m not that well organized. I see a picture in my mind, but going back and finding it is usually a lost cause. It makes me a little sad.
My cousin, Andrea sent me some photographs she found in a box of things her mother had retrieved from Grandpa Sanderson’s house after he died. There were pictures of my kids that I had sent to him over the years, a picture of my brother, Billy and me with Grandpa, and one of my mom when she was 19.
They were all fun to look at and reminisce about. Fond memories and stories came flooding back. In one picture of my son, Mason, he was holding what he called his dangerous gun. In another, he is holding his little brother so tight it looks like he might burst. I especially remember that special day at the cabin. All the relatives were there to celebrate Grandpa’s 90th birthday. My brother came all the way from California. I tease him that he looked like Elvis Presley’s long lost cousin with his sideburns. The picture of Mom standing in front of the Texaco bulk truck brought back stories of her driving it a few times to deliver fuel when she worked at the Texaco Station for Ray and Pearl Schultz. I seem to remember she got pulled over by the police for speeding.
You can imagine how long it takes me to go through a whole box of pictures. I could get lost for years in the cloud.
MY WONDERFUL SANDERSON GRANDPARENTS WHO VISITED US IN OUR CUTE LITTLE HOUSE LONG AGO IN PAWITH MY MOM AND I ON A COLD DAY. PHOTO WAS SENT TO ME BY A SOUTH DAKOTA COUSIN
Our cousins keep in touch for which I am eternally grateful. One cousin sent a batch of old pictures her mother had put into an album. The pictures don’t have much info on the reverse side because some of them were glued into an album. These photos are worth more than anything to me and definitely worth more than a thousand words. Besides I’m not sure I could even type 1000 words today, My caregiving duties suck time like a robovac vacuuming up crumbs. I try to find time to write down memories which are fast fleeting the older I get.
Here goes with old pictures and old fading memories of days spent with more innocence and more fun than most things give us nowadays…
At our Aunt’s house in Murdo with my two cousins, Jeff H and Andrea, and I’m in the middle with some cat named Tammie in 1950. I love that geometric linoleum kitchen floor.
Our good South Dakota friends, the Pecks, in the center of photo visiting our house in the suburbs of Pittsburgh, PA.My Mom is on the left, me as a kid on the right. Those pillbox hats were made famous in the 1960’s by Jackie Kennedy. Jackie’s looked somehow better on her.
That’s me with my new doll Helen, named after my beautiful aunt who had lovely dark hair like my doll. That’s our Christmas tree which my parents always bought fresh then planted in spring in our yard in PA.The saddle shoes were popular in my school at the time.This is late 1950’s or early 1960’s.
We used to love playing with dolls, building forts and parading or just walking down our street on Fourth of July with US Flags and singing like we knew the words to patriotic songs.
Good times.
Great memories.
Ride ‘em cowgirl. I’m about 4 or 5 here in PA with new trike and outfit. Love the tv with rabbit ears.
Maybe you have some old pictures that take you back to a sweet carefree life. Even these pictures are unencumbered with color. Pictures were all simply black and white. Wouldn’t it be grand if life could be simpler again?
Those 70ish Girls 