DEALING WITH, FOR BETTER OR WORSE

Today I had a note from a dear friend who has lost her husband to dementia. She went on to say that every day brings with it new challenges for him and her. She never knows what to expect or how he will act from one day to the next. She only knows that this man, whom she has loved all of their married life, is just a shell of what he once was. That the active life he once knew is over, and hers has been put on hold caring for him; that the future for them is not a week, a month, or a year down the road—it is getting through tomorrow. Thankfully, she has family that cares and loves them both very much. Their love surrounds them, but the time always comes when they, as they must do, go home to their busy lives and it’s just her and him again.

Over the past four years, I have made it a quest to try and write about the trials and tribulations that come with aging that most of us never think about. Of all of the cruel diseases that come into our lives, dementia brings with it problems that seem especially egregious because they can last for a long time. To a loving spouse this can be a big chunk of their life, too—a chunk of life taken away at a time when they have so little left to give in the remaining years. I cared for my wife, who had cancer, for eleven months and watched it ravage her body. The time I gave was measured in months not years, and when she passed life for me returned to a form of normalcy. If I’d had a choice I would have preferred it never happened, but we don’t get a choice, do we?

A family member of my own extended family has Alzheimer’s. Over the years, I have watched him deteriorate. He is at a point now where he is locked in his own little world. Still happy, but not that aware of the world or those around him. In his better days this man was an accomplished carpenter. He still has that muscular body that came from years of tipping walls, carrying sheeting and sheet rock, but right now there is little he can do but watch television. His wife must be on guard for his well-being all of the time—giving him his meds and feeding and clothing him. You think back over the years when your kids were little, and you had to get a sitter to care for them just to have a few hours to yourself, but you knew that the day would come when they would be responsible for themselves and you would have your freedom back. The difference here was that you were dealing with a developing mind, that you had great hopes for, and not a deteriorating mind that once was great.

We have all had heroes in our lives and these two women are high on my list. A long time ago they professed their love and commitment to their spouses. Now they are showing the world and us what better or worse, sickness and health really means to them. I remember a time toward the end of my wife’s life when things were especially hectic and precarious. Maybe it showed on my face, I don’t know, but from her sickbed she told me, “I am so sorry to put you through this.” I usually have an answer for most things, but I had no answer for that except to say, “You would have done the same.” I really believe she would have cared for me in the same way.

We all have our limits and capabilities no matter what the situation. This was not meant to cast judgement on those who cannot care for their loved ones.

THE SANCTITY OF LIFE

                                             

I sometimes wish I wasn’t so bothered by the way things are in the world because it tears me to pieces to watch the suffering of so many people. Last week I saw the body of that three-year-old Syrian boy washed up on shore. Later I read that his father, who survived, buried the boy, his other sibling and his wife and returned to his homeland. He said he was only leaving Syria so his family could have freedom. He didn’t care what happened to him any longer and he was going home. Try if you can to imagine what that was like. Try to imagine burying your loved ones on some deserted beach and then going back to the hell you had tried to escape.

We in this country have never known this kind of heartache. We count our calories instead of wondering where are next meal is coming from. We know if we get sick or hurt people will rush to our aid. We know if intruders come, the police will be there to protect us. Our homes are palaces in comparison to the cramped and cold homes these people are leaving behind, to live in squalor, in tents in some far off land. Imagine packing up tonight and leaving your neighbors, your friends, your pets, and most of your belongings and then having no idea where you are going to end up. Not leaving in your warm car or on a bus or train but trekking across the country side without food or water carrying your children and the aged and then when you get to the border being turned back. Talk about the depths of despair.

It is so easy for us to ignore this carnage because all we have to do is not look. Shut of the television or turn to the baseball game or the shopping channel. Instead we will go to bed and worry about the stock market or the Vikings or the traffic on the way to work tomorrow. We will say a hurried prayer for them if we do anything at all because in reality that’s all we can do. If our government intervenes we risk more war and this country is sick of war, as is the rest of the free world. So we will sit tight and let it play out. This isn’t the first time some ruthless leader sacrificed his country and his people for his own selfish whims and it won’t be the last time as nonsensical as that is. We care-- don’t get me wrong. That’s what makes it so bad.

I go back to the little dead boy on the beach and remember when I was a firefighter and although there were many deaths over the years the deaths of children were so egregious because we as guardians are charged with keeping them safe from harm. They depend on us for that and when we fail them it is so sad because all they really wanted out of life was a chance to determine their own fate and we robbed them of that. I cried many times over the deaths of children in fires and accidents and went home to look in on my own kids. Standing in their bedroom doors in the dark and watching for their breathing before I could go back to sleep. Yet those times are just blips on the radar in the amount of lives being lost in the Middle East. One can only hope that our creator has a special place for all the little ones who have died and a hopeless, endless hell for those who exploited them.

Yes, this is the price we as Americans pay, for caring about the sanctity of life.

REMEMBERING

Some days I close my eyes and I’m back in my hometown of Staples. It’s the mid-nineteen fifties and I’m twelve years old. Today I got up to another warm, cloudless summer day and put on my old cutoff jeans, a ragged tee shirt that is much too big for my skinny frame, and some old scruffy tennis shoes with connecting knots in the laces where they have broken and been retied many times. I have some cornflakes and make a peanut butter sandwich on homemade bread, wrap it in wax paper and head out the door. It’s August and I know summer vacation is drawing to a close and I need to pack each remaining day with as much adventure as I can.

My bike lies in the wet grass where I left it last night and I wipe off the seat, wet with the morning dew, with the tails of my tee shirt and head for Arnie’s house. Today we’re going to go north of town to the river and find the raft we made last week out of logs and baling twine and hid in the brush. With shades of Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn, we’re going to float down the river today. We have a starting point but no ending point; we’ll just go until the fun runs out but in the back of mind is a dream that if we were older and braver, we’d be on our way to New Orleans. My parents and Arnie’s parents know only that were going to the river today. They have no idea what we are going to do when we get there—or when we are coming back. Our plan, when we are tired and done with our adventure, is to let the raft float away and hitchhike back to town. Then find someone to take us back out to retrieve our bikes.

 I think how carefree life was back then. Hitchhiking although illegal was done all of the time. I was yet to hear the word pedophile, or pervert. We trusted everyone. Girls were simply the opposite sex and drugs were something your mom got for you, when you were sick, at the pharmacy. We had no money or watches or phones for anyone to steal—not that we believed that could happen anyway. No jet skis or personal watercraft to play on. Part of that carefree attitude came because we weren’t really responsible for much at that age but part of it came, too, because we lived in a kinder gentler world. Kinder and gentler because it was far less complex then today’s world and we had not yet lost our innocence.

As we age we often rebel against the world we now live in and that’s normal. It was that age of our innocence  I spoke of that we remember now, but time has a way of stripping you of that. Now, you don’t want to conform to the present time because you once knew, at least in your mind, a better way. What once was a pristine world is now seemingly polluted and jaded, physically and morally. I remember, years ago, a fresh snowfall and standing on the back porch, gazing out over the beauty of an unblemished landscape. Then, I stepped out into it and went down the road and retrieved the morning paper. When I returned, and before I went inside, I looked back once more and I couldn’t help but think, while looking at my tracks, that I had ruined the whole thing.  Yes, for every action by man, necessary or not, there is a reaction, and it’s not always pretty. Shannon Alder said, “There comes a time in your life when you have to choose to turn the page, write another book or close it.”

LABOR DAY

As I travel around the Brainerd Lakes area, it’s hard to go very far without seeing help wanted signs by local merchants. With unemployment hovering around 10% in this area, my first reaction is this. Why is it, when there are so many employers, looking for help-- that we still have people without jobs? I thought about this long and hard and this is what I came up with.  Like always, there are two sides.

Work can’t just be seen in the concept of you work-- and you make money. Some of the other good reasons for working are self-esteem and having a purpose and a reason to get up each day. The relationships you develop while meeting and working with other people is priceless. You are more active while working and your body likes you to be more active and will respond by working better for you.

Some of the reasons for not working are, it’s not hard to live at the same pay grade as a lot of the working people in this country, by simply taking handouts and government programs. There used to be a stigma that went with this and unless you were unable to work it was almost shameful to do. But no longer is that true. One other reason is an inflated ego that says, “I’m not going to do that. I’m better then that.” Well I’m here to tell you that if your sitting home watching television, instead of working “You’re not better then that.” You just think you are. If you get out there and be a part of a team, in a working society, you might meet that person someday that will pay you what you think you’re really worth.

There have been efforts to raise the wages of part time and entry-level jobs and I support that. But on the other hand we need to have a tax climate for business’s to help their bottom line also. Are business’s greedy? I don’t think so, most of the new ones fail within a year. That wasn’t there intention when they first started up. Competition can be fierce sometimes. But the ones that survive do so because they recognize how important two groups of people are. Their customers and their employees and they do their best to take care of both of them.

There is phrase that doesn’t get mentioned much anymore and it’s called “Work ethic. “  It’s not for sale anywhere and schools rarely teach it. Most people find this harbored deep in the genes of the people they grew up with.  Work may get you rich monetarily someday or on the other hand it may just richen you socially but it will go a long ways to making you feel good about yourself. My father was steeped in work ethic, working from day up to sunset most of his life. He died, not a rich man, but a fulfilled man because he knew that whatever he had-- he worked hard for. He also knew that his children saw that look of satisfaction on his face and wanted nothing more then to emulate him.  I look at those help wanted signs around Brainerd and I always remember one of Dad’s favorite sayings. “There is always a job for a person who wants to work.” I’ve seen the truth in that in my life. Something our government can’t seem to figure out is-- if there were more people paying payroll taxes and less people living off the taxpayers, we would be better off. On the other side, if you truly can’t work and need assistance. God bless you. Be proud.

WE NEED A LEADER

                                              

At the church I attend, our Priest, will sometimes throw his notes aside and just speak from his heart at homily time. Almost always, you get the feeling that he is being extra serious about his job and he doesn’t feel the need to quote others or dazzle us with flowery presentations from learned people. He just seems to say, “If I can’t convince you with my own words and actions of the seriousness, of living our lives through God, then I have failed.” I really don’t believe that in this man, of whom I speak of-- that failure is even on the table. I think what sets him aside, at least in my mind, is he’s in his thirties and it’s not the wisdom of age so many leaders use as their credentials that drives him. It’s just some God given gift that few people have.

So often in life I have met people who through their examples change the very way you think and feel. It’s not just clergy, it can be teachers, parents and bosses or your best friend or even the guy/gal next door. Were cautious creatures, always sitting on the fence of life waiting to be pushed or pulled one way or the other. Indecisiveness is not a weakness as many might think. For most of us, it’s simply a time to stop and think before we leap. Did you ever notice, why it is so easy to walk forward and so hard to walk backwards? That’s mostly because walking forward seems to be filled with hope, opportunity, an eye to the future and a goal in mind and your looking right at it. Walking backwards smacks of retreating blindly, failure and somehow, starting back over again.

My life has long been fraught with one step forward and two steps back and I often think-- such wasted energy. Have you every wondered why older people seem to be more content? Yes I know-- and I agree, they’re mostly retired and they have less going on in their lives, so consequentially they have less to get upset about. But I think it’s also because they have been there and done that and even if they are physically walking slower then ever, they seem to be one step ahead of others. This is because their efforts are mostly in the right direction. True most old people don’t take direction very well anymore but unless their minds are weak they seem to seldom need direction.

But back to what I was talking about on the first paragraph. People whom at a young age seeming to already have a following. Last Sunday this same Priest talked about Peter and how for a while he didn’t really trust his Lord.  But then he relented and went back to follow him. Trust is what it’s really about isn’t it when we look for a leader? We have an election coming up and the politicians are jockeying around trying to win over our hearts and our votes. But we don’t trust them anymore. My question is this. Where is that man or woman whom we will trust to lead us? Has our government gotten so tainted that they are all bad? Do we have to pick from a blowhard business man or a Secretary of State whom no one seems to trust, or a wishy washy ex governor? Where is the person who will shun the wishes of the lobbyists and the political parties? The person who will say “no” to the leeches who sponge of our government and “yes” to those who want a better life for all of us. Where is that person, who will be his or her own person and one that we can trust?