The Memories Project

As world events send shockwaves on a daily basis, it becomes imperative that we find some respite in our daily lives. This is especially true for caregivers, who face both external and internal challenges and may not have an adequate support system.

I turn to nature when feeling overwhelmed. It’s free, it’s right outside my door and it’s a simple way to try to center myself in the moment when my brain reels, feeling like a runaway train of thoughts.

Whether you live in the city or country, there are natural wonders to be discovered and appreciated. For example, when I travel to New Mexico, in a region that has both mountain and desert elements, I love the unique flowering plants I see there along with the bluest skies, free of the pollution that mars the city skies I’m more used to seeing. In Atlanta, I live in a city known for its canopy of trees. I’m lucky to live in a neighborhood with many gardeners who offer beautiful displays of blooms almost all year long.

During a typical work day, a 5 to 10 minute dog walk may be my only respite from all of the craziness. I make a point to seek the vibrant blooms, to watch the squirrels scamper up the trees, a butterfly flutter by my hand. Now that the weather has cooled off and the mosquitoes are leaving, I sit in a cozy nook I made for myself in the yard, where I can look upon the memorial area I’ve created for loved ones and watch the activity at the busy bird feeder. I find these moments grounding and rewarding.

It is my hope that no matter your circumstance, you are able to carve out these moments of respite. They are even more valuable in these times of turmoil.

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This week, musician Trini Lopez died. I immediately thought about my mother and how saying Trini’s name helped her in her recovery from a grueling cancer surgery.

I was familiar with many of my mother’s favorite musicians, which included Elvis and country legends like Hank Williams and Willie Nelson. But I had never heard of Trini Lopez until my mother became ill and required emergency surgery. Her mental state had taken a decline due to a delayed diagnosis, and she faced recovering from general anesthesia while being bedridden, trying to regain her physical strength.

Mom’s mental state bounced back pretty quickly, but there was one name she couldn’t remember to save her life, and it was an important one: her surgeon, Dr. Lopez. After many false starts, Mom came up with an unusual way to prompt her memory, by connecting the doctor with Trini Lopez, whose music she enjoyed as a young adult. When Dr. Lopez would make his rounds and Mom would be trying hard to remember his name, I would say, “Trini” as the clue and then Mom would say, “Lopez!” I’m sure the doctor thought we were a little, ahem, eccentric, but it worked every time.

It was one of the more lighthearted moments during Mom’s lengthy recovery period. I bought her a Trini Lopez CD when she returned home and she loved to play it. So it was fitting that when she died, that beloved Trini Lopez album was playing.  I touch upon this in one of my essays in The Reluctant Caregiver.

I’ll always have fond memories of Trini Lopez for the joy that he brought my mother and the memory aid he provided in the hospital.