Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Caregiving Journal 6

Yesterday, Tuesday, April 26, was the first day since April 4th that I haven't visited my mother.  My brother and I are splitting the days of the week and he went to visit her yesterday.  Did I stay home and rest up, read all day, exercise, do yoga, meditate, send emails, nap?  No.  I did something far more rejuvenating.  I went to our monthly alumni luncheon.  I wasn't particularly hungry, so I just had a grilled cheese sandwich and coleslaw, but I wanted a beer.  We were at Hale's in Silverdale, and they have Gary Parker's Irish Death beer on tap.  It's a heavenly beer--dark, smooth, pretty high alcohol content.  Half way through the 11 oz. glass I felt pretty mellow and even hungry.

Bruce Johnson and his beautiful, song-writing wife, Ellen, were there so I was able to ask Ellen if the next writer's retreat had been scheduled yet and when I might see a notice in my email.  We talked about last year, my first time at the retreat, and I told her that the retreat had spawned a writer's group here in Kitsap--three of us from the retreat, plus two others.  She hasn't been writing much so I challenged her to write a song about gas prices.  Immediately she sang, "Up, up, up...."  That's a good start.  Marty McLaren was there at a table with Fred Just and his pretty wife, who are working daily on the Seabeck Cemetary.  He is writing a book about it, she is leading tours through the cemetery and trimming, clipping and cleaning.  "It's good exercise", she said and of course, a wonderful project since Seabeck's plot is the second oldest in the State.

Trude (Jr.) Gillman has a beautiful new hat that he said is made of rabbit hide from Australia.  I think he was pulling my leg when he said he had to brush it counter-clockwise.  Sharon Briggs Conway and her husband, Harold,  and I were eating at the same table.  They live out on Seabeck-Holly road.  Sharon has retired from making a living at being a baker and her husband makes extra money cutting down Alder trees, for free, carting them away, cutting them up and selling them for campfire wood.  Enterprising.

Terry Baughman Tenney brought her tall, very pretty daughter and her grandson with her.  Terry's daughter looks like her, has the same hairline, the same wide smile and her grandson was very friendly, considering we probably looked super old to him--a restaurant full of grandmas and grandpas.  He told me Terry was a good grandma.  I've never doubted that.

It was so nice to talk about things other than caregiving, although that subject did come up.  Many people told me they were following this blog and that is gratifying.  I told Marty I do it for lots of reasons:
 1.  It's therapy for me to write it all out, get if off my chest and brain, explain it to myself.
 2.  I can tell many friends and relatives at once what is going on and don't have to repeat the story over and over.
 3.  It's another way of asking for support, which I have never been good at.  I always feel "I can do it by myself".
 4.  Sometimes, often actually, people have suggestions to offer, learned from their own experiences with  a spouse or parent.
  5.  It is training me to ask for help and advice rather than relying solely on myself.
  6.  It is a way of taking care of myself, as well as my mother.

I didn't take any pictures at the lunch.  It was enough just to be there, converse and laugh.  I got hugs, sympathy, words of support and talk of the future.  It took me away from my caregiver role for awhile.  It's good to talk about Ralph's Scout cabin, Jim's garage, Gary's beer, Marty's housing community, Junior Gillman's new hat, Sharon's pea planting, the small and good things that make up a life.

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