Documenting Life: Aging in Place
With Mom moving in this past October it seems natural that my blog will start to reflect this new life. I've decided to take a documentary approach to our life with an aging, ill parent, living in our home; mostly pictures, but in posts too. These posts can be found together with the tag "Aging in Place".
As I was prepping meds for Mom this morning, with the spring sunlight streaming in, I was struck by the image of it.
Sunday Mornings with Mom
This is usually how I start my Sunday, every two weeks. One of her heart medications is taken every other day, so having a two week "set" makes it work best.
This picture represents one of those milestones for an aging person. The point where this becomes difficult to self-manage is a point where phrases like "Assisted Living" and "Adult Foster Care" begin to be heard. It was one of the reasons we moved Mom in, just helping with this task, along with making sure she's taken the meds, already has helped with her falls and lucidity.
We're trying to help Mom to mostly Age in Place, she no longer can be completely independent, but staying with us keeps in with her community, even if that community largely is just CK and I, well and our herd of animal companions. We're planning to investigate some more community resources for helping us to help Mom.
Sunlight on Maple
Spring invites haiku.
Sunlight on maple.
Coral bark blazes alight.
Beckoning to spring.
The view off the deck, March 16, 2013, Portland, Oregon
Ticking Away the Moments
I look back at this blog and realize that two months have whooshed on by. One of those weeks was spent celebrating Mom's 70th birthday in on the Big Island of Hawai'i, which also felt like it went by far too quickly.
It was a bittersweet trip. Mom was delighted to be there, but the rigors of travel exhausted her. Her blood levels fell, in fact we spent the morning at the Kaiser Infusion Center having a transfusion of blood and platelets. The flight home was arduous, with her saying she was hallucinating and constantly fighting with me when I'd remind her that her bag needed to stay under the seat, that she needed to not hold her cane until the plane was on the ground, etc. I feel like we'll never take a big trip with her again. CK thinks maybe we might, but if we're able to bear the cost of first class tickets. Mom's always wanted to go to EPCOT and I'd really hoped she might be able to do some of these things.
Some weeks are better for Mom, but in general she seems afraid of the world and too content to just while away the hours listening to books on tape or watching shows on the Lifetime channel. To me these all seem to be the same story line of families facing challenge that they greet with Faith and are therefore led to a happy ending. Improbable and so narrow, I don't seem my life reflected in these stories at all, that I find them grating. I worry that this consumption of brain-candy stories to be worrisome. When I urge some engagement with her peers, attending some activities at a local senior center, she professes too great a fear of venturing into any group.
Looking back, I think Mom's always had some level of social anxiety and I think she's sabotaged a lot of connections. When you add to that her deteriorating eyesight and the legacy of the emotional and financial abuse she suffered at the hands of her husband's family, I can connect it all to this fear of joining any kind of group. That said, it is hard to watch her passive consumption of mindless entertainment, ticking away the moments that make up a dull day.
When I was younger she at least tried some new things, particularly arts and crafts. She developed some skill, and enjoyed tole-painting, sewing things, some quilting, and a little machine embroidery. All pursuits that the pain in her hands and the failing eyes have taken from her life. I cannot say the same for reading materials and shows, I always remember her with a stack of Harlequin Romance novels and a fondness for movies like An Officer and a Gentleman and Ice Castles.
She resents my prodding, it makes her feel bad about herself. She hurts, profoundly. Her health has never really been well in my lifetime. It is hard to greet pain and keep going, I know this from personal experience. It takes a lot of will to try and keep moving with, and through the pain. I especially know that when the pain increases the fatigue it brings make it even more difficult to stay engaged and moving, however, I know at those times that it vitally important to keep trying.
And yet, she suffers profoundly. Physically, emotionally, mentally, she suffers. Is it wrong for her to hope to ease into death and go to the heaven she imagines in her mind? Is that so wrong for her to want that? Is it just that Dylan Thomas made too deep and lasting an impression on my young mind that I recoil at the thought of pursing, of longing for an easy death?
The other night I shared with CK that I felt like she's just giving up and that it hurts. I felt like both my biological father and my step-dad both just turned toward pleasure, pleasure that was surely killing them, and refused to do the hard work to stay alive and present, part of my life. It hurts a lot to feel like my Mom's doing the same thing.
Watching sunset at Kealakekua Bay - Hawaii - March 2013
Planning Art
The house is coming along. Yes, there's still areas with boxes filling them, but CK reminds me that it is a Towers of Hanoi game. The boxes are shifting and changing. We managed to have people over for Thanksgiving, Christmas Day, and a few folks for New Year's Eve where I made Japanese food until I was asked to please stop and play a game.
I've been thinking about this year and wanting to get back to a couple of things. I'm considering a week in San Francisco for some training in restorative yoga this July. It conflicts with OSCON and just today a friend sent a couple of very interesting ideas for OSCON talks my way, one they asked me if I'd be interested in co-presenting on. It is very different and I'm honestly quite interested.
CK asked me a few days ago if I was to pursue things this year in considering how they impacted what I wanted to do 20 years from now. Yeah, a long view. However, I'm not sure in 20 years if I'll be at all concerned about my presence at technical events. That's when I'll want to be doing yoga, particularly in a therapeutic application. I've even checked and one of my dearest friends has already said I'd be joyfully welcomed in their guestroom in the Mission District.
We'll see. There's a real possibility that I could work on OSCON proposals and if they don't get picked up do more training as a yoga teacher.
Sometime soon I want to write about Mom and about my observations about how people fall through the cracks. I spent over 90 minutes today trying to get a prescription correctly refilled. It was maddening and I cannot imagine her being able to get it sorted out without help. That's about all I can say, the thoughts are too fragmented yet.
I did do something else today. I registered for an art workshop at a shop I've taken some other classes at. Seth Apter, a mixed-media artist, is doing a few workshops in town. I decided I should pick the Saturday one, what with 2-3 weeks of my time off already planned out for the year, but spent a few days dithering over the class.
The goal of the class is to take an entire deck of cards and alter them along a theme. That's a lot of cards from 10AM to 5PM!
I was struck with an idea, a theme I could plan for and carry through the workshop, which put that voice of the inner critic to rest. In that space I made my reservation for the class this afternoon. I know that even if things aren't perfect I'll learn a lot of techniques to apply to my artwork.
I'm going to use the 52 cards to visualize bits and pieces from some of my favorite Sufi poets. I already have a few pieces in mind, but please feel free to suggest your favorites in my comments. I'll be posting the whole set online when it is done.
I've spent so much time spinning on what I call "trying to clean the dirty cup", maybe this year is the year I explore the side of the Rumi that's about asking and about stepping off proudly into sunlight and not looking back. Or lacking sunlight, stepping off proudly into big puddles without a backward glance!
Between the Roots Below - 2012
Just “Wife”
I find myself making a point to use the word "wife" when referring to CK. It still can be scary.
I've written before about what I feel is the need to normalize these words as applying to marriages, regardless of the genders of those who have wed. I've found it can be a good type of social litmus test. A way to screen people and environments for how welcomed we'll feel.
Other times I've carefully avoided it. Sticking with non-gendered words like "spouse". Granted, then the immediate assumption is that I'm talking about my husband, but sometimes it doesn't feel safe until I've more input to go on. A moment of safety to offset fear that we'll be denied services because we're queer.
We've been interviewing new service providers. I corrected a person we were considering for helping with house cleaning every other week. Pointing out to this person that I hadn't said "partner", I'd said "wife" and that it is important. There was a pause and the person responded, "You're right, it is important. Your wife..."
Last Sunday I stood up in front of a group of complete strangers with CK at my side and introduced her as my wife, despite the sound of my heart pounding in my ears. We've found that we're very close to a Unitarian fellowship community in our new neighborhood, walking distance even. Newcomers were invited to stand up and introduce themselves to everyone.
We had that near-silent, small-gestured, nuanced-look kind of conversation ahead of this moment. Were we going to stand up? OK. Who was going to introduce us? Me.
So there we were standing. I'm sure none of the other couples, all heterosexual, had any kind of struggle about how to do the introduction beyond the awkwardness of standing up . Women introduced themselves and their husbands. A man introduced himself and his wife.
We were last. I took a deep breath, looked around, looked sidewise at CK, and introduced myself and my wife.
In those quick moments until it came to us I just decided I'd just do it. I'd step off proudly into sunlight, not looking back.*
I'd call CK my wife in front of all those strangers. I figured we were checking them out as a spiritual community and there was no time lime the present to decide if we'd be welcomed. I just didn't want to discover after my heart was more engaged that they really didn't include us, that they just accommodated, tolerated our presence.
Later a couple of different people commented to either or both of us that they were impressed with how brave and inspiring it was.
Here's the thing that kind of bugs me. It is really lovely that those people told us that they thought I'd done something courageous and that they were grateful for it.
What sticks with me is that it shouldn't have to be something worthy of notice. I shouldn't have that moment of fear every time I call CK my wife in a new, public setting. It should only be a joyful reminder of the commitment I've made to the woman I love, not feeling like I'm leaping off into potential danger every time.
Stairs to Sea - Waldport, Oregon - December 2012
I guess that's why I keep saying it.
Wife.
Not out of the hope that I'll get used to the dizzying feeling of the fear, but that it will become normal.
Not my Gay Wife. Just, Wife.
Not Gay Marriage. Just, Marriage.
*Here's the rest of bit of Rumi I'd referenced in this post. This small bit of poetry is rather a kind of koan that found me. One of my old Zen teachers said sometimes it happens that way with koans. I think I may be noodling with this one for many years to come.
Ask!
Step off
proudly into sunlight,
not looking back.
Take sips of this pure wine being poured.
Don’t mind that you’ve been given a dirty cup.
I spend most of my time working on the "dirty cup" in this poem, but sometimes, like using the word "wife" is all about the practice of stepping off proudly into sunlight, not looking back.
2012 in Review
It has been a Year. I'm very seriously glad to see it in the review mirror, as it were, but before it ends a moment to reflect on the whole year.
Heart-shaped Jasper - 2012 - Yachats, Oregon
2012 started off with rather a bang when events in Mom's life happened while we were at some training for not-for-profit board members. By the time CK and I arrived back in town a considerable amount of damage had been done and as we close out the year, we're still working on the clean-up. Mom ended up at a retirement community for seniors, with a cafeteria, etc., but wasn't thriving there. Much of the year was spent in rushing out to be with her, take her to ER, and the moments in between worrying about her.
Another bang came in June when I was rear-ended on the commute home, thus realizing some of CK's fears in my long daily commute. Between the stress of trying to take care of Mom, while watching her health degrade out in Gresham, and the increasing wear-and-tear on my body from the commute, CK sat down with me, looked things over, and said we should try to buy a house.
In the middle of all of that we ran another successful Open Source Bridge (June, I also taught my annual "Yoga for Geeks" class) and presented a workshop at OSCON on event planning (July). I also spoke at the BusinessObjects User Group in Orlando and co-chaired Ignite Portland 10 in February and our 11th event in September!
We closed on the house in mid-September, as soon as we came back from Orlando, moved at the end of September and end the year in a larger, newer home, that reduces my commute to 20 minutes most days (from the frequent 90+ minute treks home before). The new house, situated in the southwest hills of Portland and boasting a beautifully landscaped yard, is also laid out in such a way that everything is accessible to Mom, who came to live with us at the end of October.
Yes, it is a Big Change, but already we've seen significant improvements in Mom's health. After Christmas was over I was really happy to learn from her it was her best Christmas ever. We've honestly had some really lousy Christmases, Mom and I, despite all the flare-ups between us, I'm really happy to be able to have her living with us and so grateful for CK's support, insight, and help in caring for Mom
Mom and Tree - 2012
My job change back to hands-on IT administration is now (un)officially 2 years as of this December (from when I started as "contract-to-hire"). I'm the administrator for all of the BusinessObjects applications servers for one of Oregon's largest technology companies. It is challenging and reminds me yet again that in the long run I really would like to move away from hands-on administration and move more into project and team management. In the new year my manager will be trying to find space in my project load to make sure I get to do more technical lead work, particularly on projects with lots of user acceptance testing.
My yoga practice still includes teaching, although much of the year has seen both my teaching and personal practice severely hampered. The minor fender-bender took a toll on my right shoulder and my neck, taking far longer to heal than I'd have expected (wanted). As 2012 ends I'm only just getting back to real weight-bearing on my shoulders and arms. Hopefully a return to shoulderstands will brighten my 2013!
Amidst the upset CK and I managed to visit New Orleans. The trip was sadly overshadowed by worries about Mom which added a lot of fatigue and stress. Despite all of that we hunted for letterboxes, enjoyed some good vegan food, and saw Indians. We look forward to a return trip when our attention is not so divided.
Indian at Louis Armstrong Park
CK and I got in a long-weekend to visit Bend and Central Oregon. Having spent so much time there, particularly during the summer while growing up, I'm surprised it has taken us so long to visit there. CK fell in love with the high desert and the mountains of Central Oregon. We're really looking forward to more visits.
Dora may hate water, but she LOVES snow! Obsidian Flow - Lapine, Oregon, June 2012
Having my talk on application tuning and team engagement at the 2012 BusinessObjects User Group meant a trip to Disney World. Given that the conference happened during our wedding anniversary and that CK had always wanted to go to Disney World, we added some time on the trip and I was delighted she joined me. The little bit of extra time meant we also got to see the Space Shuttle Endeavor hanging in the gantry, waiting to be loaded on the plane for Los Angeles. We also saw the Saturn V rocket and had an all around amazing day filled with space exploration artifacts.
Saturn V Rocket!!!
I also managed to squeeze in a few days in August to visit friends out at Mercer Lake. It was nice to spend a relaxing weekend, including a kayak trip around the very-still lake, and some letterbox discoveries.
Newt spotted along the trail up the north side of Heceta Head (letterbox hunting grounds)
In December CK convinced me to take a long weekend away for myself, just to rest. I had to admit that the only trips I'd ever taken alone were only done so under the guise of work, either for my actual job or for such things as yoga training retreats, and Zen sesshin (retreat practice). I had a lot of anxiety about going, but in the end had a really wonderful time. I was utterly delighted by getting to see a shooting star during the Geminid showers (a clear night, on the Oregon coast, in December - amazing) and getting to enjoy the major storm that blew in to accompany the King Tides. My return day was filled with cold, December sunshine, as I made my slow way back home.
Near Seal Rock
It has been quite a year. Looking back I'm grateful for the really positive experiences and accomplishments that have happened. Given the rather extreme stress and upset the year has brought, it would be easy to lose sight of these things. I know I'd not have made it this far or done this well in 2012 without the support, understanding, and encouragement of my loved-ones, CK at the very top of that list.
Tonight there will be vegan Japanese food and a very small handful of friends over for games. Not sure how Mom will like the food, but she's sure to like some of the things we have or I'll make her a Gardein 'Chickn' patty! Beautiful food, laughter, and our little family is just the right way to end this rather hard year.
Obie and I Sharing a Quiet Morning Snuggle
King Tides
King Tides at Strawberry Hill + Big Log - December 2012
This has been a heck of a weekend for weather drama. Meteors my first night and the sound the wind trying to pull the cabin off the hill, with sea foam flying outside my windows as though it was snow! All the while seals and seabirds bob along in storm-tossed waves as if this wasn't anything big.
CK wouldn't enjoy being here, exposed and alone out on this bluff as I am. This tiny cabin is literally buffeted on all sides by powerful wind (gusting at up to 70 miles-per-hour) and the waves are truly enormous. She finds these sounds of water and weather unnerving, but for some reason they comfort me. I've been cultivating a mental image of the sea foam being blown through the air as a reminder that my little collection of anxiety and fear is so small, that wind like this just blows it all right through me.
After the terrible headache yesterday, I woke up feeling rested and clear. I went out to try and find treasure in the low, morning tide. I've come to the conclusion that winter is not agate-hunting weather as I only found one in my time out in the morning. I did find several interesting rocks and a few very interesting pieces of driftwood. I came back, ate breakfast, warmed up and went out again to watch the enormous waves.
I'm fascinated by the seabirds and seals out in the pounding surf, just bobbing along. I anthropomorphize them as "intrepid", but I'm called to re-read the Genjo Koan and find them instead,in their element.
Played with ATCs today and decided that I'd stay in. There's Christmas celebrations happening in the lighthouse keeper's cabin at Heceta Head, but the wind makes driving a challenge and I'd rather stay safely, warmly inside even if it sounds like I'll be blown right off the bluff!
Today has even inspired a bit of poetry. Of course, within minutes of writing it I was telling myself it was too pretentious to be shared. Maybe so, but here it is regardless:
King Tides
They name them
King Tides,
Being higher
And stronger than
The usual waves
Blown by the
Fierce winds
Of December.
Some might say
God is in those waves.
Proof of a Masculine deity
Pounding the shoreline.
Others will say
There is nothing more
Than mundane science
In the shifting of water
As dictated by a rock in space.
Some see the tides
Called by the Moon
As the sure evidence
Of a Divine Feminine.
None of these arguments
Matter to the waves
Or the rocks they crash into.
No conversation changes
The way the wind catches
The top of each crest or
Is considered by the intrepid
Sea birds floating amidst
The relentless movement
Of the sea toward the shore.
Winter Retreat – 1
I've never actually taken time away without some "reason" for it. Work trips are obvious and account for the largest number of solo trips I've taken. I've also spent time away on my own to pursue yoga training, definite structure there. Then there's Zen retreat, which is nothing but structure and silence. One weekend meditating and learning about calligraphy from Kaz Tanahashi. A multi-day, Buddhist retreat for women with some guided writing practice.
Trips alone have to involve purpose. That's my way of allowing myself to go. I have to work for it.
So to be here, perched on a little bluff, in a tiny cabin, overlooking the crashing waves and buffeted by howling winds, is entirely new. A retreat from the humming and drumming of my very busy, everyday life. A retreat from structure.
From work I enjoyed the view of the barest sliver of the new moon appearing behind clouds. Once I hit the forest a long, winding, dark, and foggy drive took up all of my attention. I was grateful to stop in Waldport for a few groceries.
I arrived to the cabin outside of Yachats to find the sky miraculously clear for winter on the Oregon coast. I bundled up in my beautiful wrap, in the two blankets provided just for the purpose of sitting on the tiny deck, and watched the night. The vastness of sea and stars and wind and cold surrounding me.
Orion was bright and huge above the forested slopes of the mountains, with Betelgeuse glowing intensely red. The brightest glow, streaking out toward the sea and seeming to illuminate a patch in the center of my field of vision, was Jupiter. Eventually, my cold attention was delighted by a meteor, one of the Geminids peaking so beautifully this year. It streaked directly overhead, shooting out over the sea, or so it appeared.
This morning I searched the beach below the bluff, but struck out in my agate-hunting. In 2010 the largest agate I've ever found was hunted on the small beach here, but of course the rock field has changed considerably. I came back in as the rain picked up, my head pounding, and ate some breakfast while watching seals out in the waves. I lay down to watch the waves from the warm bed in front of a large window, eventually falling asleep again.
I could have gone to rock hunt elsewhere, but the cold made my head pound more. I went into Yachats, thinking I might go by a spa that a teammate at work recommended, or have a late lunch at a restaurant recommended to me. Instead I bought some crackers and soup before driving slowly through town, checking out some roads I've not gone down before. I stopped to watch the crashing waves from the car.
I've mostly rested today, my head intermittently pounding. The weather has stormed all day, the wind howling so fiercely at times that it feels like it is trying to blow us up the mountain! I made some food, ate some, read, slept some more, watched a movie, and listened to a new guided meditation one of my therapists gave me. I ate too much ice cream.
I have another full day tomorrow. I can choose to act on the impatient energy that compels me to do something (go for a hike, go to the Christmas celebration at Heceta Head, go to the spa, go rock hunt) or I could spend it inside again reading and napping. I'm trying to not make a plan, not to add structure. If tomorrow I feel like I want activity, it is available to me, but I'm just staying with the idea that it is also perfectly fine to just sit here with the sound of the waves and weather, resting.
Searching below Ocean Haven - March 2010
Gift of Time
CK has insisted I do something for myself. That I go away for a long weekend. By myself.
No dogs. No Cats. No Mom. No Work. No wife.
Just a total break away from everything. Her gift to me is to take care of it all so I can well and truly rest.
I've been struggling with this gift, to be honest. I feel a bit guilty, like I'm leaving behind a mess to pick up. I feel like I don't deserve such a luxury.
I don't think I've ever really taken a trip like this. Any time I've gone away by myself it has been for work, training of some sort, or sesshin practice (which is most certainly not restful). I've never been in the position to afford this luxury - afford the cost or the time. I've never had the kind of support that would let me do something like this.
She suggested Vancouver since it is such a short flight up and I had my passport redone this year for a work trip up there. She also suggested a little one-room cottage I've wanted to stay in at Ocean Haven. Situated up on a bluff, separate, and complete with a cozy bed before an enormous window overlooking the rocks which are popular with the sea lions.
So next weekend I'm going. Taking off from work a little early on Friday and coming back on Monday.
I'm even starting to look forward to it.
Exploring the rocks below Ocean Haven, March 2010
Gratitude – November 2012 Update
"Oriental Beauty" tea, an Oolong with peachy flavors
It has been busy. This year has been made of busy. No glorification of Busy here, just an observation. We'll all be happy to see the end of 2012.
A lot has been done. I am filled with gratitude for all that we've managed to accomplish this year.
CK and I bought a new house and are renting the old one to a friend who found herself is real need of a place amenable to her companion animals.
I spoke at a conference in September in Orlando at Walt Disney World. I've now been at EPCOT (the leading favorite) and have ridden on the Its a Small World ride (freaky, freaky).
Work was all kinds of extra crazy around this time too. I'm ending the year with quite a lot done, CK attributes much of this to my being a workaholic (a bit) at a company full of other workaholics.
We got home. Packed. I rather dropped the ball on helping with the move, but we've moved on from although I'm still feeling bad about it. Working on that.
We moved and are in that limbo of not really knowing where just everything is yet.
Mom moved in with us at the end of October. We've already had a fire truck at the house due to a low blood sugar. We're learning.
Yes, it is hard. Worth it, but hard.
I'm feeling rather worn down by the year and hate that it is really showing. CK suggested today that I should take a weekend away by myself to just rest. I'm thinking about it.
Took a few minutes to just sit down and have some tea before tackling the week's grocery shopping today. We had a little bit of time this week between the holiday and a flurry of medical appointments for Mom to go to Powell's and I picked up Mary Oliver's book of poetry, Why I Wake Early.
The poem Bone in it really caught me for the whole cup of tea. Still has me caught, and here it is:
Bone
1.
Understand, I am always trying to figure out
what the soul is,
and where hidden,
and what shape –and so, last week,
when I found on the beach
the ear bone
of a pilot whale that may have diedhundreds of years ago, I thought
maybe I was close
to discovering something –
for the ear bone2.
is the portion that lasts longest
in any of us, man or whale; shaped
like a squat spoon
with a pink scoop whereonce, in the lively swimmer’s head,
it joined its two sisters
in the house of hearing,
it was onlytwo inches long –
and thought: the soul
might be like this –
so hard, so necessary –3.
yet almost nothing.
Beside me
the gray sea
was opening and shutting its wave-doors,unfolding over and over
its time-ridiculing roar;
I looked but I couldn’t see anything
through its dark-knit glare;yet don’t we all know, the golden sand
is there at the bottom,
though our eyes have never seen it,
nor can our hands ever catch it4.
lest we would sift it down
into fractions, and facts –
certainties –
and what the soul is, alsoI believe I will never quite know.
Though I play at the edges of knowing,
truly I know
our part is not knowing,but looking, and touching, and loving,
which is the way I walked on,
softly,
through the pale-pink morning light.