Monday, December 28, 2009

Two Very Different Christmas'


Susan has not had the Christmas spirit this year; no, in fact, this year her brain has found it hard to retain even the fact that it is the Christmas season! The other day I heard her talking with her favorite nurse, who was making her weekly visit to Susan. Susan was complaining about the weather and wondering why it was so cold. The nurse reminded her that it was winter, to which Susan acted surprised. “What, winter already?” she questioned. There they sat together on the couch beside the Christmas tree as the nurse took the conversation a step further. “What month is it, Susan?” “May? August? I don’t know. What month is it?” Susan stumbled in her own thoughts. “Look around this room and tell me if you can figure out what month it is.” The nurse suggested. Susan looked drearily around the room, unfocused, before she gave up and told the nurse she didn’t know. Eventually the nurse pointed at the Christmas tree brightly twinkling nearby as if it were flashing clues at Susan. “Oh! December? December already?”

It is hard to watch her decline, yet the facts are undeniably there in front of us each and every day, not allowing us to forget. Sometimes I don’t even realize how much she is dwindling until I read my own journal or think of things she was able to do such a short time ago. On Christmas morning she could not even remember from one gift to the next that it was Christmas. She appeared to be overwhelmed at the generosity of the gifts and would ask why she was getting the gift- was it her birthday? Someone would say, “It is Christmas, Grandma!” and she would reply happily, “Oh! Christmas!” Until the next gift when she again would question the occasion. She even tried to give gifts away because she could not figure out why people were handing them to her. It was sad, but we all laughed with her. That- we can do.

As I think about it, I remember last year’s holidays and how different her response to the season was that short year ago. My journal entry makes it ever so clear.

Here it is from January 2009:

For the past two and a half weeks every morning has been a succession of Christmas mornings. At least Susan has thought so. Maybe it is the sight of the Christmas tree that makes her forget that Christmas was celebrated several weeks ago. But Susan doesn’t remember that. Each morning Susan arises filled with all the happy greetings, kisses and smiles that are characteristic of the morning of our Saviors’ birth. Inevitably, Susan has that childlike twinkle in her eye as she heads my way with her arms outstretched morning after morning; Her lips puckered and ready to smother me with red gooey kisses and greet me with Christmas blessings. She is just as excited about it being Christmas morning as she was yesterday and the day before. Really she is cheerier than she was when truly it was Christmas morning.

The apparent dilemma is mine: do I play along and wish her joy and cheer as she covers me with lipstick or do I stop it all before it gets into making Christmas dinner and exchanging gifts. Potentially, if I don’t stop this endless season, I could go broke before the middle of January, thus I am forced to play the Scrooge.

As the week has progressed I have gotten better at handling this misplaced cheer. I can spot a Christmas morning face from all the way across the room! Susie Q enters, smiling ear-to-ear and heads toward me with her lipstick in place and a noticeable pep in her step. From across the room I announce, “It is not Christmas morning!” At first she resented this stealing away of holiday, but as the days have gone on with the same start, it became easier for her to change her holiday tune. Eventually she has resorted to acting as though she knew that it probably wasn’t Christmas all along. Poor thing. Still, I feel like I am throwing lumps of coal into her stocking. But really Susan, the stress of The Christmas that would not end is really getting to me.

White Christmas
















It was a white Christmas for much of the US this year, including us. Susan’s first white Christmas; she keeps reminding us! The snow started on Christmas Eve morning and just kept on coming all throughout the day and night. I was excited to see a really white Christmas after all of these years, but not Susan. Apparently she would be perfectly content to have gone her entire life without ever seeing a white Christmas. I suppose we can attribute some of her confusion and grumpiness to the weather.

The back of our house is lined with large windows that peep southward onto an open back porch and beyond. So, from nearly every room in the house there is an inescapable view of our snow covered back yard. Every time Susan has emerged from her bedroom these past three days, she has inevitably looked with surprise (the kind of surprise one expresses upon seeing something for the very first time!) at the snow-covered back yard. “Karen! What is that?” she always asks as if we didn’t have this same conversation thirty minutes ago. “Is that ice that is coming down?” she continues. “Why is it all white outside?” “Snow, Mom.” I repeatedly have replied. “I have never seen this before!” she shutters and shivers at the cold. And she is right; her life has been spent in sunny Florida, southern California and the warm Philippine Islands. This really is her first cold white Christmas!

It is obvious to anyone who has seen Susan since the winter solstice that she does not like the cold! She has sat sipping hot coffee with a grumpy face while complaining about the weather and the dead plants until I have wanted to hide! I try cheer; “Susan, isn’t it beautiful! We are going to have a white Christmas! How exciting!” “We don’t need it, Karen!” she grumbles. “I think God knows best what we need.” I say, more as a reminder to myself then to her. Trying not to let her attitude wear off on me, I half look her way.

There, in my kitchen, sits my strong willed mother-in-law this holiday season. Never in the years past would she have visited us- let alone on the holidays. If, years past, I could have seen into the future, I am certain that I would have thought that the crystal ball was broken. And admittedly, I know for certain that I would have not wanted this. But really, we rarely get what we want (or think we want), it seems to me. Perhaps we get what we need. Still, here we are- her and I- on this cold snowy day in my Oklahoma kitchen and somewhere inside of me, I feel a bit of gratitude for this Christmas gift, this life of ours, as strange as it is.




"Consider it a sheer gift, friends, when tests and challenges come at you from all sides. You know that under pressure, your faith-life is forced into the open and shows its true colors. So don't try to get out of anything prematurely. Let it do its work so you become mature and well-developed, not deficient in any way." James 1:2-4 (The Message)

Friday, December 18, 2009

'Twas The Week Before Christmas


(I admit it, I am pushing it with this
holiday spirit stuff around here
.)








‘Twas the week before Christmas and all through the house
Every creature was stirring inside of this house.
The doors all secured by the family with care,
In hopes that no one would open them- dare.

We parents were nestled all snug in our beds,
While visions of tomorrow all danced in our heads.
But Grandma in her kerchief and layers of wraps,
Wouldn’t settle her brain for even a short nap.

When straight from her room there arose such a clatter
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
All way down the hallway I flew like a flash
Tore open the grottos and threw up the sash.

The moon from the window crept in with a glow
An illusion of mid-day to Susan below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear
But a mixed up Grandmother, thinking daytime was near.

Just a little old woman so lively but sick
I knew in a moment I must stop her quick.
More sleepy than I this family all came
Cause she’d knocked and she’d shouted and called us by name.

Come Karen! You Jeffrey! Come Kyle and Ashli!
Oh come on you stupids! Oh you must all come see!
To the front of the porch! To the shopping mall!
Let’s dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!

As dry morsels with quietness are better than strife
When I meet with an obstacle, prayers to the sky.
All over the household her curses they flew
To a house full- all woken, and grandchildren too

And then, in a twinkling, I heard from my room
The prancing and shuffling as here came my groom.
As I drew in my head and was turning around
Down the hallway my hubby came with a bound.

He was dressed in flannel from his foot to his head,
And his pj’s were checkered with greens and with reds.
A bundle of keys he had hung as a batch,
And he looked like a locksmith just opening his latch.

His eyes how they twinkled! His eyes not merry!
His cheeks were like roses, because he was weary!
The scowl on his mouth was drawn up like a bow
So my face turned pale, as white as the snow.

The clench of his fist he held tight as his teeth,
Smoke seemed to encircle his head like a wreath.
He had a mad face and a little round belly
That shook as he walked like a small bowl of jelly.

He was coming quite fast, a mother to scold,
And I laughed when I saw him in spite of myself.
The twitch in his eye and the twist of his head
Soon gave her to know she had something to dread.

He spoke not a word but went straight to work.
He picked up his mother, and turned with a jerk.
And pointing his finger at her as he warned:
“Do not let me hear you again until mourn!”

He sprang to the door, and to me gave a whistle.
And away we both flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim ere we walked out of sight,
“Merry Christmas my love and to all a good night!”

-By Karen Santiago

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Happy Holidays?


Last year was Susan’s first Christmas with us. I laugh as I think of the memories from that season that inadvertently became lessons for me to use this year as we head through the season with our Alzheimer’s loved one.

The first lesson is: Don’t put wrapped presents under the tree, at least not before Christmas Eve! Doing so last year proved to be a bad choice since Susan seemed to be drawn to one particular gift wrapped neatly for my granddaughter. In the weeks leading up to Christmas, I repeatedly found Susan razing that present as she pulled, tore and ripped at the paper. At first I could re-tape it, but eventually it was tattered and torn in the same way it might end up on Christmas morning.

I explained over and over that it was a gift I had bought for Victoria. She argued back that she had purchased it for herself. “What is inside then?” I would ask, embarrassed that she had gotten me playing her game once again. She could never remember what it was- just that it was hers! Twice I even finished opening it to prove it was a child’s toy. Still, she coveted it possessively and waited to be alone in the room so that she could tear into it (again!).

The second of last seasons’ lessons is: Don’t let Susan answer the door during the holidays! Since we live far away from our entire family, we do receive occasional boxes from UPS, Fed-Ex or USPS during the holidays. On several occasions Susan would get the door and thus ‘get’ the box- THAT HE GAVE HER! You can guess the rest. But one of those boxes came when I was not home and I had no idea it had even arrived. In fact, we never did actually figure out when the box had really arrived.

I was reaching behind a large object in my living room when I discovered a box from Colosse Cheese (in Pulaski, NY) hidden there! Needless to say, I recognized the box as a Colosse Cheese box that had obviously been sent by my father. Colosse Cheese is a well-known cheese joint with yummy cheese that my dad kindly shares with his children around the US each year. He knows we all love the cheese from Colosse and the memories from days gone by.

“Susan, when did this box arrive?” I asked rather surprised. All she could say was that the man brought it to her! I pointed out the shipping labels that were very visible all over the box that read: TO Jeff and Karen and Family…………… I explained that it needed to be refrigerated because my father had sent us cheese. Tucking the box neatly into the refrigerator, I headed contently to bed.

A bit later Jeff went to get water from the kitchen and returned with a puzzled face. “Karen, where did you put the box of cheese?” “It’s right in the refrigerator.” I answered confidently. He headed back toward the refrigerator as I lay listening to the familiar sound of the refrigerator open and shut before I heard his feet hurrying toward his mother’s bedroom. When she answered I heard him ask for the box, to which she denied having any knowledge. I could tell he entered her room against her will before I heard his feet marching back to the refrigerator where he replaced the box in a less conspicuous place in the refrigerator.

Next day I was talking to her at her highly secured bedroom door when I got a glimpse of my box sitting in her room again! Angry, I grabbed it up and asked her what she was thinking by taking it back out of the refrigerator?! You may be laughing, but I assure you that I was not! She protested my robbing her of her box as I headed toward the refrigerator where I camouflaged it out of view from the house cheese mouse.

There were other lessons learned last season and other memories made. I am sure there will be more fun -more stress -and more stories to share this year. That is what it is all about I suppose, isn’t it? I wish you all happy holidays with those you love this season!

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

Holiday's Are Happening


I can hardly believe it is already December. Seems like there have been so many things distracting my mind from the holidays that I have been slower then everyone else in arriving into December. While most of my neighbors had their outdoor lights up the warm week of Thanksgiving, my house is still considering the effort. My Christmas tree has been a slow process that is protesting my small efforts every step of the way. I took it down from the attic and let it sit in the garage for about a week. The hope that Katrina might be coming to visit for the holidays encouraged me to drag it inside and put white lights on it. That evening Kiara and Matt came to dinner and the lighted tree twinkled from across the room acknowledging my effort. A good start, I thought.

But by morning my efforts were dashed when I plugged in the lights and to my dismay, no lights came on to greet me. What? I wiggled and inspected and swapped out lights until, in the end, I gave up and went on about my twinkleless day. That was when Katrina called crying to inform me that her and Kyle wouldn’t be able to make it home for Christmas. I was sad for her- but mostly for us, since she brightens up the holidays so much. She loves them. I encouraged her to get excited about new traditions that her and Kyle could create as their very own.


My words were a reminder to myself that I needed to heed my own advice, so I proceeded with my village set up. I thought it would be fun since my granddaughter would certainly love the little people and places we could arrange. Kiara and Victoria and I set the finishing touches on the village together with people going places and singing carols, lighted houses and lighthouses atop hills, and a variety of shops for our little shoppers to visit, all brightening up my dining room. Maybe it is the little girl in me that loves the Christmas village so much. I like imagining where the characters go, what they do and why and where the houses and bridges are located. It is practically the only thing I can feel like I control these days. .

Susan, like me, wants to be in control of something- someone. So, I gave her the nativity to set up. She had so much fun putting things where she wanted them. She stood over the manger scene seemingly intent on getting them just right for an half hour or so. Finally, after they were all in place as she had ordered them, she turned toward my village and the little houses and people there! I watched her cross the room and begin to move them into places she thought they ought to be, some of which I actually thought were brilliantly displayed, like the wooden bridge that she tucked neatly beside an imaginary snow bank where one might actually cross from Ace Hardware to the lower part of town.



It isn’t as though I don’t love the holiday; really I do. It is just that there have been so many things this season distracting me from getting into the spirit. It appears that I have been slow at filling my home with the outward signs of the spirit of the holidays, but I assure you that my whole year has been preparation for the true meaning of this season! In fact, I think that my heart understands the true significance of Christmas likely better than it ever has before. Perhaps the birth of God’s son, who came to earth to die for my sins and yours, is more clear and meaningful to me this Christmas.

Indeed, as I look at my little manger scene and the parents (Mary and Joseph) whose hearts must have been filled with awe, as beside them lie this child, I am struck by the incredible gift we have been given. The gift that that same son made possible when he went to the cross some thirty years later. The only begotten son of the Father who came and lived and died for me and for you. That sacrificial life and death of an only son is what Christmas is really all about.

Tuesday, December 1, 2009

Fireplace


Oh the weather outside is frightful
But the fire is so delightful
…”

So Susan would not leave the store without the fireplace. She loved it and decided she wanted it. Jeff and I talked to her about comparing prices and looking around, but she was having none of it. She was convinced that if we left the store, the fireplaces would sell out and she might never get one.

The thing is that she had been itching to go somewhere and do something. She just gets that way sometimes, although she generally expresses her desires by telling me that she needs to go to the office, pay her rent, attend mass or pick up something at a store. Sometimes we take her out just because she wants to, even if her mission is misguided. Occasionally it makes her worse, but mostly it works like a charm allowing her to chill a bit- for a day or so anyway.

Realizing she was in one of these moods, Jeff offered to take her to a few of her favorite stores. She strolled the store isles and eyeballed shelved goods as if she were searching for a treasure. Finally she found it in the back of the store! A wood fireplace! Okay, it’s not a real fireplace; but it looks like one. It is a real heater though, and she had been complaining about the cold ever since it dropped below 90degrees sometime last summer.

Once it became evident that if we were going to get Susan home with us, it would be with her fireplace, we gave in. Once it, her and we were loaded up and headed down the highway she chattered incessantly about how it worked and if she needed to get gas or wood logs before we went home. Jeff explained over and over that it looked like a fireplace but was really just an electric heater- no logs, no gas.

It wasn’t until the following night that Jeff was ready to set the thing up in her bedroom. Knowing how excited she was caused us a bit of excitement on her behalf. “No more complaining about being cold,” I pondered. And maybe shower time will be a bit easier since she will feel warmer! Victoria (our granddaughter) even felt the thrill as she helped Grandpa unpack and roll the new object down the hall toward Susan’s room. But the sun had set and Susan’s sundowners had kicked in and she was ready to bite the head off of anyone that entered her room, as if there were a conspiracy against her. She eyeballed the heater suspiciously and grouched some remarks at Jeff. Again he explained that no logs or gas were needed. “Get that thing out of here!” she yelled, “It will give me a bloody nose! It’s too big! It’s too small! I’m warm enough in here!”

The next hour was spent repacking the fireplace into the Styrofoam then into the original box so that it could be returned back to the store. What a waste of time, energy and gas, we all silently shared our thoughts. For the next several days, that neatly repacked box sat in the dining room waiting for an opportunity to be return. But the unwanted box did not go unnoticed sitting there. No, in fact, it fascinated Susan all over again- this whole fireplace in a box thing! She stood by it, touched it, read the box, asked questions and hovered possessively over the thing day after day. Periodically she brought the box to my attention or would grill me with questions regarding it. “Why are you going to return it? Does it get warm? Will it fit in my room? Does it need gas? Can I have it?” Honestly, her new interest frustrated me because I was afraid that another unpacking and repacking might not go over so well around here.

Periodically throughout the days she would disappear and I would inevitably find her admiring the big box with the picture of her rejected fireplace on the front. “Mom, you’ve already decided that you don’t want it. Quit looking at it; we are returning it to the store!” She acted like a lovesick teenager who, we all know, never listen to the best advice. She was in love all over again and it was obvious that she wanted it! I wouldn’t discuss it with her. “Talk to Jeff,” was all I would allow.

Finally she convinced Jeff that she had to have it in her cold dark room. Jeff gave in to his mother’s pleas for a second time this week. Before I knew it, the fireplace was again unpacked and heading for Susan’s room. This time she accepted it as if it were an old friend coming back home. It was hers and she was finally glad to see it. So, we put the familiar green stickers on the power buttons so she could use it by herself. A cold front is headed this way it seems, but don’t worry about Susan, she will be snug by her fireplace heater this winter.

Oh the weather outside is frightful
But the fire is so delightful
And since we’ve no place to go
Let it snow, Let it snow, Let it snow
!”

(Note: The stickers mentioned in this blog were Stefanie’s great idea and have served Susan’s needs nicely. We use colored round stickers of red and green. We place them on power buttons of electronics to cut through the confusion. Our microwave has a green dot button on the ‘add a minute’ button so Susan can push it and warm her coffee. We tell her, “Green means go. Red means stop,” in the same way we used to tell our children the same.)