Wednesday, 28 August 2013

As we travel our journey we should write each moment down - making lasting memories of all the moments that one day will be no more....


FOREVER LOVE

Written by Beverlee Blampied ©

They once were a couple, content and glad
Now, as they hold hands, he holds the memories she had
She’s in the same house they have lived in for years
But now as a stranger, with confusion and fears
Yet now and again she will look in his eyes
And remember the past that’s so quickly gone by
And just for that moment, she’s back by his side
And his heart fills with love, and sadness and pride 


THE STORY OF FRED AND THELMA 

An excerpt from my forthcoming book on Alzheimer Disease 


Alzheimer Disease is a disease that drains the body, mind and family. It is bigger than cancer, bigger than heart or lung disease, and for seniors it is the single greatest cause of disability and debilitation. Its cruel course robs people of what they treasure the most: memories, skills, relationships and independence. And then the body starts to whither and waste away.

Fred, eighty years old, says he won’t put Thelma, eighty-four years old, into a nursing home facility until he has to, and he has pre-set criteria for when this becomes necessary. Thelma's recent need to wander and her attempts to leave home in the middle of the night are occurrences that, if they continue to happen, will put her in danger and Fred, to protect her from harm, will have to come to terms about his continuing to remain her only caregiver. He hopes that this will never come to pass, but sadly realizes that each stage of this insidious disease, with its unforgiving progression, will bring the time when he will have to make this very difficult decision – a decision that will break his heart and destroy his spirit.

For more than 47 years, Fred and Thelma have been a couple – married, raised children, travelled, and enjoyed a full life and wonderful times spent together. Now Thelma's illness has left her unable to function independently, unable to cook, to clean, to manage the household, or to tend to their award winning garden that she had so lovingly cared for for so many years. She no longer remembers who she was and who she is, and is unable to carry on the avid, intelligent, emotionally and memory filled conversations that were second nature in their relationship. In fact, Fred now does most of the talking. His wife, to his deepest sorrow, hardly talks at all anymore and what she does say, on occasion, is superficially insignificant and/or rarely makes sense.  For Fred it has been a series of grief experiences, as he has watched memories disappear and skills erode.

Like most people with dementia, Thelma doesn’t understand what is happening to her, so the burden is far heavier on Fred and, as Thelma forgets all that she has learned, he has been forced to learn everything new, all the while mourning the loss of intimacy in his marriage. Each day becomes more silent, absent of those simple bits of chatter that fill up a marriage. He has had to teach himself to  manage the household duties that had always fallen to his wife. He has adjusted to the fact that Thelma now lives in her own world – lost in a mind with no concept, no logic. He now lays out her clothes and helps her dress. He has acquired the skill of promising her things that aren’t quite true, but the promises make life easier for him as he has to deal with the intricacies of their daily routine. He has also learned to let odd behaviors slide, realizing that it makes no difference if she chooses to eat her dessert before her dinner.

Thelma still accepts his hugs warmly, but there is no real intimacy left in their marriage. Sometimes she will look at him as though he’s a stranger and sometimes mentions him in the third person. Every morning their day begins with Fred showing Thelma a copy of their marriage certificate to convince her that he is, indeed, her husband.  Soon, he knows, she will even forget his name.

Fred faces an uphill battle of stamina, problem solving and a never-ending and difficult journey encompassed with diminished communication and decreased rewards. His time is no longer his own – he receives only two hours of home-care help daily. Their family, with families and lives of their own to attend to, help whenever possible, but the crux of Thelma's care is in Fred's hands.  He cannot live beyond today, he cannot live in yesterday, and he cannot expect anything from tomorrow except the barest of what it brings.

Fred has lost his partner and, in truth, the keeper of his memories, but he has not lost his love for the woman with whom he has shared the better part of his life, even though she is now a sad shadow of the woman he met and married years ago - he the handsome bachelor and she the 'knockout' woman of his dreams. She is now, and will continue to remain, the center of his universe. His role as Thelma's caregiver is not a sacrifice he is making – it is what he chooses to do, with love, as it is the time he has left with her, and the time is precious.

Their love story has not yet ended and right now he focuses on what they do have – on the good things – like holding hands, going out together on Thursday and Saturday evenings to listen to Karaoke music at a neighborhood venue and attending Friday evening Karaoke sessions at their local legion, filled with long-time friends, where Fred sings to the members in his powerful yet warm voice, and Thelma listens to the music intently and eagerly accepts an invitation to dance with a fellow friend and legion member, while Fred sings.

And then, in an unexpected flash, there are those brief moments when the fog lifts and he can get her back, if only for a few seconds…..



  

Saturday, 24 August 2013

Books are the ever burning lamps of accumulated experiences and resulting wisdom....


The Courtneypark Connection

An Anthology of Prose and Poetry


Eighteen emerging writers have contributed their prose and poetry to this new anthology that is being launched today - and I am one of the privileged eighteen. For me, it has been a long time coming - after years of following my passion I am now going to be able to bask in the sunshine of being a published author. 

Nothing has as much power as the word and through my prose and poetry my words define who I am and these words can now ripple far beyond me to effect, in some way, everyone who chooses to read my work and indirectly share my journey. My words are a carrier of myself and my energy - they are a symbol of my communication and the tools which can empower and open new doors of thought and action for any or all who choose to read them. Spoken aloud, or in the privacy of my mind, and now on the published page, they embody my intentions and form the framework of who I am as I continue to place my footprints along the paths of  this ever complex journey called life.    

Monday, 19 August 2013

In my every thought there is power to change my world.....

Random thought for the day:

When the worst happens in my life I can choose to think of it not as life punishing me, but as an awakening, instead, to the reality of what part I play within my life, and therefore, each and every time, I can be left with the choice to either mend the situation by redirecting my path to a more positive one or, through unnecessary fear, I can choose to continue along the same bumpy path, destined to be led by a random wind whose destination is never predictable.

Friday, 2 August 2013

The sun goes down while it is yet another day.............


EULOGY FOR CHARLOTTE
Paperman and Sons Funeral Home
Montreal, Quebec
August 1, 2013

Charlotte and I have been friends for 41 years. Our souls were friends first. I know that sounds a bit outrageous, but it is the only way that I can explain the relationship that I had with my friend. I truly believe that some spiritual source ensured that Charlotte and I would cross paths, sometime and somewhere, along this crazy path that we call life, and husbands, children, jobs, miles, beliefs and the years between us aside, we did enter each other’s life.

What really is true friendship and how do we define a friend? I think that the answer is different for each one of us, yet we all know that no matter who we may call a friend, true friendship is reserved for those select few who impact every aspect of our lives - yesterday, today, and tomorrow.

I met Charlotte over 41 years ago. After a chain of unlikely events, we ended up participating in a workshop together, searching for answers about our lives, our struggles in this life and ourselves. Our relationship started out with a comfortable sharing of our thoughts and through this sharing, it has continued to this day, only more intensely and deeply than we ever thought possible. We easily became friends. We were both in our 20‘s at the time, and it felt as if we had known each other for years. We talked on the phone incessantly, learning about each other’s lives and discussing how we wanted our futures to unfold. Although of different spiritual backgrounds, we shared many of the same beliefs and were going through the same life experiences.

In those first few months, we talked about everything and anything. Our conversations flowed and they seemed to go on forever - whether it was religion, politics, philosophy, recipes, child-rearing, relationships, families and/or family struggles. We really loved every minute that we were able to spend with each other, on the phone or in person. When we talked we always learned more about ourselves. And the best part about our friendship is that we cared about each other and each other’s growth as a person. Her genuine warmth and honesty were a refreshing change from most things that I had, at that time, experienced in my world. I was happy that we quickly got to the point where our friendship knew no bounds.

And then things changed in an instant. I had to move - not just around the corner, but over approx. 700 miles away near Sudbury, Ontario. My husband was transferred with his job. Charlotte was happy for me in that it meant a chance for my marriage to hopefully restore itself and my family to grow together, but I couldn’t help but feel like I was losing a part of me. I would miss her company, guidance, humor, and the happy holiday times we had spent together over the years. But even more frightening was that I felt I was losing the one person who knew the true me, the one person who inspired me and kept me moving in the right direction. I thought for sure that after I had moved, I would have no one to share my hopes and my dreams with.  Thankfully, I was wrong.

It has now been over 36 years since that cold winter morning when I stood outside her home, not able to let go of each other for the last time before I left Montreal. Although visits were not as frequent as we would have liked them to be, we did manage to see each other once a year and following my divorce and subsequent move to Toronto, we have been able to share and enjoy much more time together, especially in the past few years as our children started their own lives and we were no longer in the throws of active motherhood. We continued to share our life journey - the good and the bad. Nothing changed between us. I consider Charlotte my ‘adopted’ sister - and I feel very blessed to have been given that privilege. She was always non-judgmental, offering insight, knowledge, love and compassion. She has been a gift beyond measure offering me a safe place to fall with her sympathetic ear, encouraging words, understanding heart and overwhelming generosity, both emotionally and materially. She has always been there for me no matter the time lapses and/or the mile distances between us.  I know that even though she is no longer with us physically, we will always share this special connection called friendship.

Death is a major clarifier and having walked through this journey with Charlotte, my soul is in a very dark place. Although I am doing my best to keep my emotions under control, I am deeply saddened and feel an immense sense of injustice that such a good person has had to face this battle and experience such pain. But Charlotte, through her wisdom and strength, has exited this bumpy road of life without anger or sadness, and she continued to teach me by reminding me that she has loved, has been loved, laughed till tears ran down her face, cried till she thought her heart would break and she continued, throughout the time she had left, to look forward to every new sunrise and enjoy each sun down - she lived a blessed life and is grateful for all the blessings her life gave her.

Though our words to each other defined us, it was the love that we had for each other that connected us – I have loved her deeply and treasure our connection. I will always be able to close my eyes, hear her voice, and hold her hand – and our souls will continue to unite us, as I truly believe that some spiritual source – even though we are of different spiritual backgrounds – ensured that Charlotte and I would cross paths, sharing our footprints along this complex journey called life.