Sunday, March 08, 2015

The best kind of morning

In the spring, summer and fall, Liza Jane knows that if it is morning and I am home, the odds are ever in her favor that we will go walking when I get out of bed.  Last week when it was -4* and the sun was shining she was clearly disgruntled that the rule did not apply.

This morning I said few words and none of the "do you wanna go..." words.  I smiled and said "are you a good dog?  are you a happy dog?"  Her tail began wagging, she ran into my bedroom, grabbed my shoe and followed me around with clear intent.  It was hilarious.

The best part of a day like today is the Joy of Dog after a 2 mile walk and a bath.  Photo montage follows.








Saturday, February 28, 2015

grace


If you’re lucky, you spend your first 20 years being taken care of and learning to take care of yourself.  For some of us that takes us well into our thirties.  After that you spend the next twenty years (plus or minus twenty) taking care of others.  And then, I realized as a traveled to the Ville of Steuben to take care of the Aunt of Sophanne, you have to slowly accept that you need help being taken care of until you are, in fact, dependent again.

What is puzzling is the disconnect between the taking care of and the being taken care of stage.  If you have spent 30 or more years taking care of family as they age, watching life take its natural course, you have knowledge of what is to come for yourself. 

Is it just a matter of “Do not go gently into that dark night”?  I hope that when my time comes, I have a caretaker available and the grace to know that it is time to accept assistance.

I hope that I realize that no longer giving but receiving has value as well.  A change in the status of independence does not lessen what you have to offer in life.  But I think what happens is that when it’s time, the patient refuses to accept their own limitations and then is treated like a stubborn child.  I amend the above.  I hope that I have a caretaker, find the grace to accept assistance, and in turn am treated with the respect for the human being that I am.

For now I am grateful for those who have traveled this precarious path of leading someone gently from independence to dependence. Everywhere I have turned, there have been strangers confirming my experience and sharing their own.   Not only do I value the advice they have, it’s also a great comfort to know that you are not alone.

Monday, February 23, 2015

#musicteacherfail

We had a delay due to cold temperatures this morning. In an effort to increase instructional time with classroom teachers, the "specialists" (art, music, p.e. and library) were in charge of lunch and recess duty today. I opt for recess because I'm good at it without yelling.

This morning I went frantically searching for a whistle to use as an attention getting device. Having none, the kindergarten teacher offered up a cow bell. I paused and thought, "wait, I have cow bells." I paused a little longer and thought "wait, I'm the music teacher. I have ALL KINDS OF NOISEMAKING INSTRUMENTS." A whistle is not a prerequisite for recess.

Saturday, February 21, 2015

In Dog Language..

This means..

 

 

I have successfully frolicked and played the "chase me as I chew your knitted mitten" game.

 

I can not lie. The joy in her romping made it totally worth it.

 

Saturday, February 14, 2015

Today...

Was the day my Subaru has been waiting for. It was still not impressed. I heard it rumbling, "you call this snow? Why are you driving so slow?" On occasion my Subaru speaks in rhyming couplets.

 

Sunday, February 08, 2015

Unconditional

This is what unconditional love looks like. A basement pantry cleared of 40 years worth of collected food. Mice nests, half eaten dry goods, cans, empty and disintegrating. 29 giant garbage bags of nearly toxic refuse bagged and dumped. All the while done with kindness and concern for making things right in the world. No complaints, no empty promises, no expectations of compensation. Just doing the best you can for someone else because you want to.