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Calling Mom
Sleigh bells ring, are you listening? Houses decked out with sparkly lights, framing trees shimmering through living room windows . . . ‘Tis the season. I can almost taste Mom’s homemade almond roca, peanut brittle or fudge. Mmm . . . This time of year, I especially miss my mom. Truthfully, I remember only a handful of times during our lives that we didn’t spend Christmas together, so I suppose it’s natural to feel a void. If we can’t be together, I wish I might at least call her up to hear her voice, but sadly acknowledge this possibility disappeared with her passing ten years ago. Perhaps I should have…
Memories and Musings
Lately, I’ve been nostalgic for the 1950’s, the decade of my early childhood. I daydream about life then, remembering the holidays with oodles of relatives crowding into our kitchen and around the dining table, first to eat and later, to talk or play cards. Sifting through my memories, I remember it as a simpler time, filled with love, delicious food, laughter and conversation. This year, as is our custom, we spent Thanksgiving with my son and family, who live across town. My daughter-in-law’s entire family joined us so, mimicking my childhood, fifteen of us crowded around two tables stretched out to be one. After we’d all had our fill of…
Opportunity
By Vicki Tapia Opportunity: a favorable, appropriate, or advantageous combination of circumstances; a chance or prospect What would life be like without opportunity? I find the thought rather bleak. Opportunity can be sought after, but it can also seek us. Opportunity sought me when I became the family caregiver for both my parents, who had dementia. How often do we look at a person with dementia and see…well, see a demented person? As yet, there’s no way to slow or stop the progression of this devastating disease, so how could we possibly reframe it as an opportunity in, and of, itself? Can we not only learn to accept the person’s…
Empathy? Kindness? Say, what?
His comment raised the hackles on the back of my neck and my thoughts turned dark. I visualized the bold headline: “Author Attacks Book-Signing Attendee!” With a slight shiver, I decided it best to continue smiling, nodding and change the subject at the earliest possible moment. People had begun wending their way toward a seat in the outdoor pavilion, the event nearly ready to commence. An elderly gentleman accompanied by his wife most likely wished himself home watching a baseball game on T.V. I’d already listened to him insult her earlier in a condescending tone of voice when she asked him a question. I watched out of the corner of…
Two Notes To Self
It’s been two years now since a young man came to our front door on a Saturday afternoon to ask if it would be okay if he stood on our stencil-painted brick steps to propose to his girlfriend the following weekend (read Huff Post story here). Steps are steps, right? Well, maybe not. What appeared as a series of steps to my husband and me had transformed into a magical destination for someone else. Perception. Imagination. What one person perceives as utilitarian — a means to move from here to there — another person imagines as a work of art, worthy to be the stage for the most important question he’s ever…
Not too hot. Not too cold.
It’s one of those perfect days. Out on a walk with my mini-Schnauzer, I delight in feeling the warmth of the spring sun dancing across my back. I realize again what a long winter we have experienced. We had the more snow here this past winter than any other year since the weather bureau began keeping records. Day after day of cold weather eventually wore me down, so I’m elated to see spring finally make her appearance. Walking along the sidewalk, my neighbors’ yellow daffodils and red tulips wave to me in the breeze, reminding me that even with its unpredictability, I love this season of rebirth. Yes, today has…
Embracing Change
This season of the year is a time for renewal; a time of rebirth. Out with the old…those dried leaves from last year. In with the new…little green shoots pushing their way out of the earth. I found hope for the spring season’s arrival three weeks ago when I spotted one tiny, purple Venca bloom in my backyard in southcentral Montana. It’s a comfort to know that despite the many and varied challenges in life, we can depend upon change. Nothing—no thing—remains forever the same. The world can be a mystery and if we are open to change, it will create an openness in us, a willingness to experience new…
Time And Our Spirit Number
The oldest of my three children turned 40 years old today. When I wasn’t looking, time played a trick on me. In a mere blink of the eye, the sweet baby I once held in my arms now has three children of her own. Time passed! How did that happen? It is a known fact: If we are alive, we grow older. Some of us even grow wiser, but that’s not a given. Our outer shell will continue to manifest physical changes, marked by that yearly given number. In reaching the beginning of her fifth decade, my daughter shared with me a bit of her growing wisdom. She now recognizes…
Reticence
An unexplained inner drive compelled me to document a multi-year sojourn that I took with my parents. It was the last journey we took together…a journey down the rabbit hole of dementia. Within months of each other, Dad received a diagnosis of Parkinson’s-related dementia and shortly thereafter, Mom, with Alzheimer’s disease. During the first year, I began a diary to record our odyssey. Journaling every evening helped me unwind and release some of the turbulent emotions involved with the day-to-day challenges we faced. This journal became my confidante to whom I could “say” anything without fear of reprisal and it asked for nothing in return. It simply listened.
Finding My Tribe
Aren’t you curious to know more? Why do you find this boring? If you could peer into my brain, you might observe these questions bouncing around. I remember being admonished as a child for acting “too inquisitive” or alternately, “too sensitive.” As an adult I’m sometimes told that, in conversations, I either give too many details or ask for too many details, depending on whether I’m telling the story or listening to one. Or worse, I confess to interrupting someone else’s story (my husband) to add more details when I don’t feel he’s imparting enough information. Okay, so I like details! Watching movies, it’s not uncommon for me to be…
