June 8, 2016 · 9:16 am

Dad on Ali

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With the death of Muhammad Ali, I couldn’t help but think back on Dad’s love of the sport. I never got into boxing, but I remember Dad watching the matches available on network TV (before they moved to pay-per-view, as we never had cable.) He would light up and was as enthusiastic as he was about watching his beloved Notre Dame team or watching a soccer match. As a young man, he even started writing a novel about a boxer, which he never finished.

I’m pretty sure Dad was an Ali fan. I don’t know if he supported all of his viewpoints, but I think as an Irishman, he could appreciate Ali’s showboating. Also, as a northern Irishman, my dad could appreciate someone from a minority group who was being marginalized and brutalized taking on the establishment. I can hear my dad’s voice imitating the crowd when Ali came to the ring, chanting, “Ali, Ali, Ali.” I remember my dad becoming very animated about describing one of Ali’s historic matches.

Even if you are not a boxing fan, it’s worth checking out some of the old interviews and matches with Ali. The way he handled himself, not only as an athlete but as a citizen in this world was unmatched. Yes, you could call him arrogant and egotistical, but part of that was his persona, and alongside that, there was a sincerity and genuine concern about the world. The way he challenged the status quo as a black man in the 1960’s was remarkable and courageous. He stood by his religious beliefs, being banned from his profession for three years. He was no saint, of course, with multiple marriages and a penchant for affairs, but he never claimed to be, only saying he was the best he could be.

After boxing, he could’ve just rested on his laurels, especially after being diagnosed with the debilitating Parkinson’s disease, but he chose to walk the walk when it came to humanitarian causes. He traveled the world, set up foundations and did what he could to ease suffering and support the downtrodden.

As many have pointed out, there is some irony in the fact that Ali got Parkinson’s disease, a condition that stripped away his physical beauty and his famous “Louisville Lip.” Was God teaching him a lesson for being an arrogant big mouth? Ali took the diagnosis in stride, and didn’t shy away from society. Instead, he used it as another teaching moment.

Ali was brash, talented, controversial and courageous. He was truly one-of-a-kind. I hope he’s free of his broken body and that his spirit continues on somewhere, floating like a butterfly.

On another note, there was also another boxing connection this week. A relative of mine reached out on Twitter, the grandson of Dixie McCall, who I’ve written about before. He was my aunt’s husband. Social media has its faults, but it is so neat that we can make family connections via a tweet.

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June 2, 2016 · 8:01 pm

Thanking Jim Garner and family

I have been following Jim Garner’s inspiring, heartbreaking, well-documented journey with early-onset Alzheimer’s.

He died in April, five years after his initial diagnosis. His mother and brother also died from the disease.

https://twitter.com/alzjourney4m/status/716447814511767552

Garner was only 53 years old, and leaves behind a wife and two children. The family showed remarkable strength, grace and selflessness in allowing the Daily Press to document how Alzheimer’s impacted them over the last several years.

In a struggle for aid, Garner, a veteran, was denied access to government programs, including Medicaid, Medicare and social services. Despite 23 years in the Air Force, he Veterans Administration only offered Garner  a 30-day respite stay in a one-star facility.

A friend of Jim’s wife set up a GoFundMe campaign with her reluctant approval. Karen, Jim’s wife, was overwhelmed by the outpouring of support and donations. The money raised allowed Jim to be placed in a secure memory-care unit for the remainder of his life.

Don’t underestimate the power of a caring community.

Karen wants to dedicate the rest of her life to raising awareness for Alzheimer’s, but knows that she will have to get a job to support her two children. Just by allowing her family’s struggles and triumphs to be documented, she has done so much to personalize the toll that this disease takes on the entire family.

One quote from the interview with Karen really struck me. She was talking about how Jim always was about not sweating the small stuff and taught her to appreciate the seemingly mundane things in life. “We don’t realize how lucky we are that we can empty the dishwasher until we can no longer do it, “she said.

So true.

Wishing the Garners love, peace and healing as they mourn their loss.

 

 

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May 27, 2016 · 11:00 pm

How the dying teach empathy to today’s youths

While some may feel empathy is not something that needs to be taught, but is something that should come naturally to human beings, I do think people need opportunities to experience empathy.

A unique class for high school seniors in New York is doing just that. Simply called “hospice,” the students learn how to take care of the dying and a whole lot more.

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I was moved by the students’ experiences, and how they learned to cater to the resident’s needs, both physical and emotional.As anyone knows who has cared for a dying person, it is usually the smallest of actions that mean the most. A student helps a woman who was a speech pathologist but now ironically battles frontal lobe syndrome do a word puzzle. Another student rook time to read a memoir that a resident had written about his life, to get to know him better.

Sometimes the students experience death, up close and personal. It even hits close to home sometimes, as one student enrolled in the class has to deal with her dying grandmother who has been admitted to hospice.

The students shared what they gained from this most unusual of courses. They liked the fact that it was non-competitive, and it was a reality check that we are all going to die someday. Another student liked the class because it wasn’t competitive like most of his other courses; it’s simply about helping other people.

While I say kudos to The Harley School for maintaining such a course, and there may be similar classes elsewhere, I would like to see this become a more widespread movement. We’ve heard about the “scared straight” classes that send troubled teens to the morgue, and while that may shock some into choosing a better path in life, I think being around those who are one step away from death is far more valuable.

 

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May 21, 2016 · 6:34 pm

Honoring the departed with gratitude

Today has been the day I have been eyeing on the calendar for quite some time. My mother died one year ago today.

It is hard for me to believe one year has passed since that moment that I dreaded so much, yet brought some peace and stability back to my life. I didn’t want my mother to die too soon, but even more so,  I didn’t want her to suffer.

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But today is not about mourning. I have done enough of that over the past year, and rightfully so. Today I decided to make about gratitude.

As I’ve mentioned previously, my mom always showered kindness and appreciation on those she encountered in her daily life, from the convenience store clerk to the shuttle driver to her doctor. But it was those in the service industry, those who are often overlooked or taken for granted, that my mother really connected with. Sure, sometimes I would internally roll my eyes when Mom would talk my ear off about how the her favorite convenience store clerk was having surgery on her knee and a granddaughter on the way.

But it floored me that when Mom was in the hospital recovering from surgery, not only would she remember the CNA’s name, but her granddaughter’s name as well and that the kid was going to be in a spelling bee. I couldn’t even remember the nursing assistant’s name!

So today, I visited local businesses in my community and handed out thank you cards. For whatever reason, I felt a little silly, but when I saw the smiles light up the faces of the employees, I felt good. I think Mom would be proud that her daughter is carrying on her torch of goodwill.

It’s still a work in progress, but here is a link to the scrapbook I started for my mother.

Mom’s scrapbook

Thank you, dear blogging friends and followers. Your support means so much to me.

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May 18, 2016 · 7:49 pm

Scrapbooking as therapy

I’ve mentioned before how I started a scrapbook to organize and protect all of my father’s old photos, documents, and newspaper clippings . The project began with a rational purpose but I found myself enjoying the process. While scrapbooking is sometimes mocked, it’s really a creative process that allows you to tell the story of a family member.

I finished the scrapbook for my father, and now am working on one for my mother. I have found the process to be cathartic and therapeutic.

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As we move into the digital age, scrapbooks in physical form will probably become passé, replaced by highly efficient, customized digital renditions. But for those of us documenting the lives of loved ones from past generations, scrapbooks are treasured keepsakes.

More scrapbook photos can be seen in this Google photo album.

Do you scrapbook? I would love to hear about your experiences.

 

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May 12, 2016 · 8:08 pm

Grief by the numbers

 

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Maxime Perron Caissy/Freeimages

A fellow blogger who recently lost her father posed an interesting question on her blog, which went along the lines of what happens after that first year of loss?

As a society, we tend to mark major life events by months, then years. So what does happen on that first month after the first year marking the death of a loved one? While it’s common for people to mark the six month anniversary of something, the 13th month is not so common.

Soon, I will know, as the one year anniversary of my mother’s death quickly approaches May 21.

I don’t think my grief will suddenly lessen when June 21 rolls around, but perhaps a loosening in the monthly ritual is a part of the healing process. There was at least one month in this first year where I actually didn’t mark the day itself; I thought about it before and after but not on the actual day. At first I felt bad, but then I realized that it was probably a positive sign.

My father’s death was a completely different process. First, there was a greater sense of relief in that death finally freed my father from Alzheimer’s cruel gasp. At 79, Dad had lived a pretty long life and as an almost lifelong smoker, if dementia hadn’t taken him, emphysema (which he had) or lung cancer probably would have. With my mom, even though she was only 2 years younger, I felt like with proper, prompt treatment, she may have had some good years left.

Another difference in the grief process was that my grieving for my dad was cut short due to my mom’s illness. She became ill just six months after my father died. I had to switch gears, letting Dad rest in peace while I poured all of my energy into keeping Mom alive and nursing her back to health. By the time she recovered, Dad had been gone for a year or so and time had began to heal the loss.

In a way though, taking care of Mom helped me feel less guilty about not being there for dad as a caregiver. So while I’m not saying that Mom’s cancer diagnosis was a good thing, there was at least one positive outcome.

After surviving Mother’s Day (which I marked by participating in a charity walk and visiting cats at a shelter) I have now survived every holiday for the first time “motherless.” For those of you have been through the grieving process, I’m sure you can understand my feeling of relief.

 

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May 8, 2016 · 12:00 am

A Letter To The Motherless On Mother’s Day

Thought this was so beautifully written that I had to share. Hope this helps those of you who are motherless on Mother’s Day. Peace and love be with you.

JustJennaRose's avatar

May 8th, 2016

Today sucks, I know. It’s going to be hard. But so is every other day since you have lost your mother. There is absolutely no love in this world like the love of a mother. There is a void that cannot and will not ever be filled, no matter what anybody tells you. You don’t miss her today any more than you will tomorrow, or the next day, or the day after that.  Today, Mother’s day, is just another painful reminder that she is no longer physically here. As you watch friend’s  celebrate with their mom’s, please remember that yours is tucked away deep down in your heart where she will forever stay.  As the wind blows through your hair, know that it is her gentle and loving touch. As the warmth of the sun shines on your face please remember the warmth in your mother’s heart through all of the days she had on…

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May 1, 2016 · 4:12 pm

May is for Mother

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This is the first Mother’s Day I will experience motherless. At this time last year, Mom was quickly approaching death. In fact, I got her flowers early because I was afraid she might not live until Mother’s Day.

Knowing that would be the last Mother’s Day she would be alive was difficult. How do you express a lifetime of gratitude into a single day?

 

But experiencing Mother’s Day without a living mother is equally as difficult.

It is almost impossible to avoid the holiday. Mother’s Day ads are online, in stores, on TV … reminders to honor your mother are everywhere. I received an email reminder from the florist, to remind me I bought Mom flowers last year, and did I want to order again this year?  I’m sure the business thought this was a good selling tool, but it was just a gut-wrenching reminder of the sadness I felt when placing that order. (On the flip side, Mom loved the flowers.)

I just got back from a visit to what was my parents’ condo. Each trip I am trying to make a few changes, to slowly transition it from a place of sadness and illness, which it became over the last several years of my parents’ life, to a peaceful mountain respite that my parents enjoyed for many years.

My mother’s perfume still lingers in the bedroom. Of course I reflected on the events of last year while I was there, but I busied myself by putting together new furniture and rearranging things to make it my own. It’s what my parents would want, and I left the condo feeling fairly good about the progress.

And now, a week of nonstop Mother’s Day advertisements to navigate. I know at least a few fellow bloggers who have lost their mothers in recent years, so I know you understand how it feels. Certainly just because our mothers are no longer living doesn’t mean we cannot honor their life on Mother’s Day, and that’s what I intend upon doing.

How will you mark Mother’s Day?

 

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April 25, 2016 · 8:00 am

A Princely passing

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Even though as a member of the media I was among the first to learn of Prince’s death, it still is quite a shock that a musical icon of my childhood is gone.

For us Gen X’ers, Prince was that rock ‘n roll guy, that dance music guy, that sexy music guy … he had a prime position on the soundtrack of our childhood and adolescence.

Of course, like most creative types, he came with controversy. Many of my classmates were restricted or forbidden from listening to Prince, who early in his career produced songs with sexually explicit lyrics and themes.

My mother, Southern Baptist-raised, was NOT one of the critics.

I remember my mom actually enjoying his music. She loved Prince’s style, his energy, his passion. Mom loved those who were different.

So it was appropriate that Prince died on the 11-month anniversary of my mother’s death. Maybe Mom is finally getting to be a Prince groupie somewhere on the other side. I think Prince in turn would have accepted fans of all kinds, even ones with thick Southern accents.

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April 16, 2016 · 6:01 pm

A call to support a fellow artist and caregiver

Many of you dear people who follow The Memories Project dabble in writing or other art forms, and are either caring for or lost loved ones to dementia.

Emily Page is an artist and blogger who recently lost her father, who had FTD. She has started a crowdfunding campaign for a book she is writing about the experience, which will include some of her fabulous art.

If you are so inclined and in the position to do so, please consider donating to her campaign. You can find out more about the project on her blog and via her Publishizer page.

I’ve never met Emily personally, but I have a feeling we would get along, because we both love cats and bourbon!

In less than 72 hours, I have had over 250 pre-orders for my book, Fractured Memories, about my family’s sometimes hilarious, sometimes horrible journey through my dad’s dementia. Seriously. Are you people kidding me? Did you know you were that awesome? Did you? I kind of vaguely suspected you might be pretty cool, but damn, I […]

via You People Are The Best People — The Perks of Being an Artist

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