Life's Changing Seasons

Hello and good-bye you last day of winter! Adios! I’ll be glad to see you go! Sayonara winter of 2009/2010. I will not miss the pain, the hardships and the sadness of this particular winter. I will not miss the coldness of it all. Adios and vaya con dios! The only reminders I want of this winter are the lessons I’ve learned! Thank you God for that. Hasta la frosta!

Howdy spring! Hello hope. Hi tomorrow! Halo sunshine! I look forward to new things, new life, new projects, new places, and new people. I look forward to looking forward! I really do! Bonjour, kumust a’, guten tag! Good day spring day! New buds are peeping from the branches and reaching from the ground to bid me good day; they whisper their greetings of hope into the wind and it floats melodiously to my ears. I kick off my shoes and dance to their melody! I cannot contain my spirit of hope, so I dance barefoot across the grass under the budding trees.

Susan is inside hiding from her last day of winter like she has most of the other winter days. She sleeps the sleep of hibernation as if that will take away the cold dead winter that she has so detested. Her curtains are closed and her clothes are thick as she cuddles up on her bed and grumbles about winter.

But it is over, Susan! Today is the last day of winter! I dance to her bedroom door and invite her outside. I ignore her refusals and I insist. I dance. Eventually she can’t resist; she wraps her scarf around her face and agrees to join me outside.

I take her hand and chant invitations of joy and warmth. She cannot deny that hope is everywhere as she cracks a smile my way. I take her hand and we dance! She spins and moves and rolls her Filipino hands! I float and swirl and step with happy feet! Our spring dance is a dance of joy and laughter and dreams! My dreams! And yes, Susan’s dreams!

We dance to the future,
whatever it holds,
whatever it’s length;
it is ours,
Susan’s and mine!

dance..
step..
swirl..
all
nature keeps rhythm..
birds chirping in..
dancing..
the dance of life..
in harmony.

Last Day Stunt

Luckily Susan saved her latest stunt for the last day of our week alone together. If she had done this on the first day, I might have followed Jeff to the airport and taken a flight to somewhere- anywhere! But she didn’t. She saved the best for last. Susan is smart like that.

Yesterday morning was fairly normal; Susan ate her breakfast while discussing things that were not real. I particularly remember her saying that she had filled out an application for employment somewhere and that she had been asked to go in that morning. I just listened and said things like, “uh-huh” and “oh really.” The ‘professionals’ have said to play along, so I did.

I don’t know why I listened to that advice this time. Over and over again, this advice has proven not to work in Susan’s case. Probably because she is so strong willed. She does not give up once her mind is set. I repeat: Susan does not give up until she chooses to, never ever!

I had a business call and as I chatted about details I saw Susan walk through the hallway with her purse and shoes! RED ALERT! She bid me good-bye from across the room. I hurried the person on the other end of the call. Slam! Susan was out the front door! I wrapped up the call and ran for my shoes, cell phone, car keys and camera. Those are the items I have regretted not having on other such little chases. That is, me chasing Susan as she determinedly stammers her way around my neighborhood.

On this day, Susan walked to the end of my driveway, turned left, walked down the road to the stop sign and turned right. I would say she is familiar with this route, but she is not familiar with much of anything these days, so I will just say that she has chosen this route several times in the past two years. Shoes on, I ran to my car and followed her at a distance (snapping pictures along the way, as usual).

Eventually I decided to pass her by and turn around at the nearby dead end. That way she could be independent for about two more minutes before I picked her up on the way back. After doing a 180 in the car, Susan was nowhere in sight! What! Had she fallen into a ditch? I drove frantically toward where I had last seen her walking! There she was – heading up a steep driveway toward a house on a hill!


“Susan, get in this car!” I demanded. She ignored me at first and I kept demanding louder and louder. Finally she gave me the ‘I’ve got this under control nod’ while waving me to wait for her. She walked onward and upward. “Susan, no!" I yelled in a desperate raspy voice. She just nodded and waved again as she confidentially approached the house!

One thing about living in the Oklahoma country is that you hardly know your neighbors; how could you when you hardly even see them. I knew the young couple who had originally built this house. It had sold several times since then. I had absolutely no idea who resided inside that door that Susan was now knocking unrelenting on. No Answer. ‘Whew!’ I thought. But Susan would not give up; there was another door on the side. She knocked on it a while.


I sat in my car at the bottom of the hill watching Susan. If I didn't know better, I might think she really did know where she was and what she was doing. I sat alone in my car, not knowing if I should laugh about this whole thing or just cry. Instead,I just snapped more pictures to prove to somebody else this really happened.

“Susan. Just come on!”I again pleaded. She gave me one last defiant look before she walked back across the front porch and to the front door again! She began knocking as though they might not have heard all her other knocks. To my surprise, this time the door crept partly open! Inside, I saw a round head and scantily dressed male trying to shoo Susan from his presence.

I jumped from the car, ran to Susan’s side and whispered that she better get herself in my car before she gets herself killed! I meant it. I moved toward the shadow at the door where I saw a full body tattoo and shaved head trying to avoid me. How funny, how could he avoid me? We were the ones that came to his unwelcoming door. I expressed my sorrow for the interruption and informed him that Susan was just confused.

I did not even want to know what we had interrupted. As I backed my car down the long steep winding driveway, I lectured Susan as to the danger she had put us in. “But that was the office, Karen. I paid my rent. I’ve been there before.” She insisted. Informing her that we don’t pay rent, that is not an office, and she lives with Jeff and Me didn’t seem to register. She was tired and needed to go home and have a nap! A nap- that sounded like a wonderful idea to me! It had been a long week; but Jeff would be home tomorrow!

Alone On The Prairie

Susan and I are spending this week alone while Jeff is away at a conference in Florida. Thinking of Jeff in sunny Orlando has made it just a bit more mundane going through my daily routine. Seriously, he is feasting on seafood, delicious fish, citrus and other local specialties. He strolls to meetings under swaying palm trees, passing pools and outdoor bistros. Meanwhile at home, you will find me continually sweeping the floors under the kitchen chairs where Susan last feasted. The Little Prairie House Special for Susan and I this week is my home cooked beans and rice. And really, nothing is swaying here but Susan’s rocking chair-with her in it!

Honestly, I don’t mind Jeff’s business trips. In fact, I am happy when he gets to have a change of scenery. I got used to all of that during our military years; so these days one week is a breeze- a Florida breeze for him and a chilly Oklahoma wind for us left on the home front.

If you ask me, I think Susan gets the whole 'Jeff is out of town' concept. You know, the way children seem to know that Mommy is on the phone! They catch on real fast that when Mom is on the phone, they can get by with holy terror! When my children were small, my closest girlfriend and I made a pact that if one of our children required our attention, we would just put the phone conversation on hold and give immediate attention to the culprit. It worked! They got the message real fast that even if I was on the phone, they could still be disciplined!

Susan hasn’t gotten that message yet; I’ll be working on resending it tomorrow. Several nights ago, she spent most of the night knocking on doors while walking the halls and calling all who could hear. Her midnight enthusiasm surprised me since she had seemed so tired when she went to bed that evening. By morning, she was worn out and wanted to sleep in. That was when I went into her room to coax her up. Beside her headboard I noticed blood drippings all over the carpet. Otherwise, I saw no signs of any injury. My questions produced no answers; Susan seemed oblivious to any blood or injury. Something had happened! With Susan, these things seem to tell their own story as the clues present themselves, I have learned.

When she arrived at the kitchen table I could see dried blood that had dripped down her head and face. She seemed as surprised by it as I did. I insisted we get her showered up so that I could get a better look at her wound. She had two- one inch parallel cuts on the side of her head. The bleeding was over and there was no swelling. She seemed normal otherwise and had no idea how it had happened. Although I can imagine all sorts of scary nighttime scenarios, the fact is that whatever did happen to Susan’s head that night, will probably remain a mystery. The thought of what could have or will one day happen to her scares me; but all we can do is keep her as safe as we can.

Today she was obsessed with getting into the kitchen. First thing this morning, she poured out her whole pot of coffee that I had just perked for her and drank my caffeine-loaded variety instead! Need I tell you that it was not a good way to start the day? Imagine, me with no coffee and her jacked up with caffeine! If you are a true coffee drinker then you totally can relate to the rest of my day. She was energetic and I was not in the mood for her antics!

This day couldn’t have ended quickly enough for me. I was ready for bedtime (hers, that is) before it was even dark. It was as though we both watched out the windows for the sun to hint at setting. Me, so that I could tell her it was bedtime now. Her, so she could begin securing the house.

There is much more to tell about our first three days alone on the prairie, like her brutal fight not to let the nurse’s aid shower her today. Yes, much to tell, but at this moment I am sure that I hear someone knocking from across the house. I guess I better sneak over there and make certain that Susan is just being her unusually determined sleepless self… then again, maybe I’ll just call it a night. Morning comes awfully early around here and I need a little time to dream of myself relaxing under those Florida palm trees.

Spring Fun!

It isn’t really spring, but try telling me that yesterday! Gorgeous weather and sunny skies allowed Victoria and me to ignore the cool breeze and the 60 something temperatures! It was the greatest day around here since Katrina’s wedding, last October! As if the first decent outdoor day were not enough, it was Friday!! The only thing missing were the beaches, but that’s okay- we had the secret garden!

Yes, we really do have a secret garden! But since it is a secret, I can’t tell you its exact location. But what I can tell you is that Victoria and I visited there yesterday. Victoria has always loved the outdoors as much as I do and yesterday, she was as ready to break out into the sunshine as myself. She even remembered from last year’s adventures, what to wear.

So, when we stepped onto the back porch she was ready: garden gloves on her hands, hat atop her head and my sunglasses to shade her brown eyes! She insisted we use the red wagon for our first go-round of the property; but to visit the secret garden she chose her red-rider/ pusher. I pushed it similar to the way we would push a stroller -as she pedaled simultaneously -down- down- down- over -over- around- and in! There we were, finally in the secret garden!

As soon as we entered into the garden, she jumped off her red rider, screaming joyfully as she ran toward the circle of smashed down weeds! “Grandma! Is this where the deer sleep?” She knew my answer; I had pointed it out to her last fall. We both thought the deer were smart for choosing this secret place for cozy nights. Then we walked the perimeter of this hidden place, listening to birds, looking for nests and growth. It had been two seasons ago that we last visited, but my mind was already churning about the creative additions I could secretly make in the coming days, weeks and months.

Susan has not been here yet, I thought to myself. Perhaps I have not brought her because I fear she will not enjoy this secret the way the rest of us do. She is so serious. Having fun is something she has never been good at. I don’t even know if she has an imagination at all. Then again, sometimes she surprises me when I am least expecting her to. My mind was made up; I will bring her to the Secret Garden when things warm enough for her.

In the meantime, Victoria and I spent some time working on a hidden entry to our Secret Garden. Then, it was time to check on Susan. She was too tired to play and just wanted to spend the morning sleeping. I had hoped she would at least step outside and breathe some fresh air on this lovely day. She is missing out on all the fun!

Susan's Fashion Sense

Although we grew up in New York, my sisters and I were not preoccupied with fashion, to say the least. That is, unless one considers the present day obsession with “vintage” or “retro.” I mean, if we are talking about pre-worn, oldie but goodies and the “restructured” pieces in our wardrobe, then absolutely! In that case my sisters and myself were perhaps even the style queens! Obvious (I feel certain)to onlookers , that our shared styles were brought on by necessity. Too many girls in one house for my frugal father and our overwhelmed mother to indulge any one of us with something as impractical as more then two outfits at a time. I remember discussing my perceived need for new clothes with my father. His reply became a life lesson I never forgot: “Need? What you need are two outfits; one to wear while you wash the other and the other to wear while you wash the first one. Anything more and you are talking about want.”

My father was right and I knew it, even though it didn’t fit into my plan to purchase a new skirt. That was about the time I began honing in on my sewing skills and started making my own clothes, or at times restructuring old ones that fell second-handedly into my lap. It wasn’t until my college years when I worked part time and had a little extra cash in my hand that I actually got to choose a piece simply because I liked it. Still, my father’s practical side always overrides my thoughts of fashion grandeur that swirl in my mind whenever I visit my favorite boutiques.

It was during those same college years that I began dating Susan’s son, Jeff. I had never before been around any woman who always seemed to be dressed up: clothes, heels, nails and makeup to boot! Even the gowns Susan wore casually around her house were consistently of some luxurious fabric in bright colors that flowed as she walked across her plush red carpet. She had polyester bellbottomed pants in every color of the rainbow; all specially made to fit Susan’s petite oriental physique.

The way I saw it was that if Fashion Diva's did shoes, then Susan surely was one! Even her gold house-slippers screamed, "Look at me!" I had little understanding of what I viewed as a secret society. And if this "Secret Society of Fashion Diva's" were real, then the only women I personally knew who were likely members (besides the piano player in our New York church),were (respectively)Miss Piggy and now, Susan. I stood in wonder of the glitz and glam of accessories unlike no others. This whole secret Diva Code eluded me altogether. While I did enjoy it in Susan, I felt no need to join the ranks myself.

It wasn’t so much that she was stylish as it was that she knew what worked for her and she spared no expense when it came to filling her closet. So, two years ago when the family saw no other option but to do a dementia forced intervention with Susan, it was evident that she had kept every item of clothing that she had styled throughout the years. It was actually an education (for practical me), to see how the quality and fabrics had held up for Susan. They were mostly all still in use, since their purchases had been more about what worked for her rather than what everyone else was wearing.

We infiltrated what clothing we could into her new smaller closet in her bedroom at our house. Sadly, as much as we (and Susan) fought change, it became clearly undeniable that much of it just wasn’t working anymore. Her bellbottomed pants (which had been hand-altered by Susan to her new smaller size) fastened in the back. That was a problem now with her impaired brain-to-hand communication. Besides, the entire rainbow of pants needed Susan’s standard two and a half inch heels to prevent them from dragging the ground; but Susan now required lower safer shoes to help keep her steady. Suddenly, her seventies-style groovy bellbottoms were slipping down her hips and dragging the ground, making her look like a little girl playing dress-up rather then the sophisticated lady that she once was. Now, the once stylish cape sleeves dragged through her food, the flexible waist skirts slid to her ankles and anything resembling zippers or hooks became unattainable stumbling blocks to her independence.

Yes, a wardrobe intervention became necessary. At one point Jeff took his mother out for a few hours while Katrina and I went through her closet removing the bellbottomed pants and replacing them with elastic waist pants. We knew that she would never rid herself of them willingly. But leaving them there for her to deal with each day meant that she would naturally put them on. In a wierd way, it was somehow sad to see them go, but the hard truth is that they just could no longer work for her. And the skirts that were several sizes too big had given us our last wardrobe error giggles. We swapped items out with things she had approved of on previous shopping trips. We still focused on her favorite reds, greens, oranges and yellows, but with simpler functions for the new girl.

But don’t worry; Susan embraces a new style now. Again, one all her own and all about her needs and desires. Although I find myself often physically dressing her these days or at least picking matching outfits from her closet and explaining to her or the aid what order they will be worn, she still accentuates them with her new persona. And, when my matching outfits bore her, she opens her own closet and mixes and matches (NOT!) her own taste to robe herself with. All of us have grown used to her new fashion and admittedly even anticipate seeing what she might be fashioning from day to day and more recently, from hour to hour. I call them Alzheimer’s clothes and lets just say, she likes them this way.



(Note: All clothing pictured on this entry show outfits put together by Susan- for Susan. One shows off her women's long johns that she often wears as pants. Another pic captures her atttempt to leave the house in her bathrobe-worn as a coat. And see how shirts are worn as scarves, rollers as hair ornaments and sunglasses indoors. Around here, it's all good!)