Who would argue that resiliency is a key - perhaps THE key - trait in expansive aging? The ability, whatever our age, to face each day as a fresh opportunity, to come back stronger from adversity & to regain a firm footing after taking emotional or physical tumbles.
A number of my older friends & clients - including the "oldest of the old" - have embodied resiliency. As their years slip past, they continue to look forward. They accept not having the dexterity they enjoyed as a kid of 70 while making the most of off the resources that remain or are available for the first time. They expect better in their life.
That's the key - expecting better. So many older people, their loved ones & core supporters seem to expect only less over the years ahead. It's almost impossible to be resilient if you expect life to get only progressively worse & worse. More & more challenging - certainly. And there's no getting around that some things will be diminished.
Resilient olders accept that their present state isn't some cosmic mistake, that how they are in their present moment - however difficult it might seem - has a purpose. They look for what is sometimes hidden away from plain sight.
When I look back at olders who seemed to embody resiliency, I recall people who had to deal with frozen joints, with serious heart conditions, with paralysis & dementia & other limiting conditions. But they didn't let them limit their spirit!
There are many things that I bring to helping people ease from being an older to an elder, from just aging to s-aging. One knowing when to turn to others for good advice on topics of personal interest but not expertise. That's how I found an excellent article on developing resiliency as we age. I found How do the elderly become more resilient? at KevinMD.com. I spoke to me - it's short, but seems to sing out with the traits I saw in so many of my elderly friends, especially the "oldest of the old."
The four traits it spotlights -a sense of belong, creating meaning through personal memories & life reviews, revaluating attitudes about dependence, and an ability to change & adapt - are the very ones I try to encourage in my grannie clients. Of course, Mom was a best practice model for creating meaning through memories & life reviews, with her Mindwalker1910 e-mails to a devoted dist list,the articles she wrote for an alumni journal about aging, and the answers she gave over her last week to e-mailed questions from a local college Psych 101 class. And Grandma Rose & Cornelia, Aunt Gay & Mrs. Ridgeway are just a smattering of the olders who radiated those core dimensions of an expansive eldering.
Resilient eldering - how to develop it in ourselves, how to help the significantly older in our lives deepen it in their own lives? There are things we can do to help the olders in our life be more resilient - How do the elderly become more resilient? and reading Still Here, by Ram Dass, are great starting points - but seems to me, it's an arc, starting when we are young.
Resilient eldering starts with a resilient childhood, teens & adulthood. Perhaps the best thing any generation can do to help make their lives happier through the years is develop a stronger sense of resiliency NOW.
Tuesday, September 16, 2014
Thursday, September 11, 2014
Grandma Walton
One of the great challenges of older age - especially significantly older age - is feeling a sense of contribution & purpose, feeling like we are leaving behind some form of legacy. Got me thinking about how beautifully television portrayed the invaluable roles of Grandpa & Grandma Walton - and even they had times when they felt more a burden than a blessing on their family!
Got to remembering when Ellen Corby suffered a stroke & Grandma Walton was written out of the show for an entire season. It was Ms. Corby who fought to return to the rigors of the show, in spite of partial paralysis & impaired speech.
Bravo to the producers, that they saw the wisdom of Grandma's return. But then, they were used to taking Ms. Corby's advice on her character - she'd spent the early years of her Hollywood career as a script girl & throughout her life wrote quite a few of her own. She showed a clear understanding of Grandma Walton, adding a liberal helping of pepper to what could have been just a sweet little old lady. It was Grandma's tart comments to Will Geer's Grandpa that gave the pair depth & believability, that made them what the New York Times dubbed the "most realistic old people on TV."
Returning to the show took patience on everyone's part - she often had to do two words over & over. But no one knew better than Ellen Corby that she could send an important message, just by showing up on the set & hitting her marks. She was the victim of a stroke, but that wasn't enough to knock her out of life!
As Ms. Corby said, "I realized that there were people I could reach with a message of strength through my visibility on The Waltons. I wanted to show them that I may be 65 (less than three years older than I am - deev) and the victim of a stroke, but I can think & function. After the first show, I was flooded with mail from all over the country. Those letters made the struggle worthwhile."
It felt to me like Ms. Corby's strongest scenes were done after the stroke, then after Will Geer's death. There was never any doubt that Grandma, with all her physical limitations, was the rock of the Walton family.
Maybe the episode, Grandma Comes Home, should be required viewing for every older person, for everyone who's suffered a stroke & is working their way to what now counts as normal. It's no surprise Ellen Corby was nominated for an Emmy (she didn't win, but had already won three for her portrayal of the Walton family matriarch) - it's an astonishing performance.
What a blessing to have watched all those seasons of The Waltons with my own mother, just a year older than Ellen Corby. What a blessing to have known & to be friends with so many older people who live fully involved lives, even if dealing with the challenges of age, even a stroke or heart attack or dementia.
It was wonderful that Ms. Corby wanted to get back to work, that the producers welcomed her & everyone made the necessary adjustments so it could work. Good role modeling for all of us. How many occupational therapists use Grandma Walton - and Ellen Corby - with their patients? I know that I'll be taking a look at those later episodes, gleaning the wisdom I can from the character & the performance.
Thank you, Ms. Corby - your legacy of Grandma Walton lives on!
Got to remembering when Ellen Corby suffered a stroke & Grandma Walton was written out of the show for an entire season. It was Ms. Corby who fought to return to the rigors of the show, in spite of partial paralysis & impaired speech.
Bravo to the producers, that they saw the wisdom of Grandma's return. But then, they were used to taking Ms. Corby's advice on her character - she'd spent the early years of her Hollywood career as a script girl & throughout her life wrote quite a few of her own. She showed a clear understanding of Grandma Walton, adding a liberal helping of pepper to what could have been just a sweet little old lady. It was Grandma's tart comments to Will Geer's Grandpa that gave the pair depth & believability, that made them what the New York Times dubbed the "most realistic old people on TV."
Returning to the show took patience on everyone's part - she often had to do two words over & over. But no one knew better than Ellen Corby that she could send an important message, just by showing up on the set & hitting her marks. She was the victim of a stroke, but that wasn't enough to knock her out of life!
As Ms. Corby said, "I realized that there were people I could reach with a message of strength through my visibility on The Waltons. I wanted to show them that I may be 65 (less than three years older than I am - deev) and the victim of a stroke, but I can think & function. After the first show, I was flooded with mail from all over the country. Those letters made the struggle worthwhile."
It felt to me like Ms. Corby's strongest scenes were done after the stroke, then after Will Geer's death. There was never any doubt that Grandma, with all her physical limitations, was the rock of the Walton family.
Maybe the episode, Grandma Comes Home, should be required viewing for every older person, for everyone who's suffered a stroke & is working their way to what now counts as normal. It's no surprise Ellen Corby was nominated for an Emmy (she didn't win, but had already won three for her portrayal of the Walton family matriarch) - it's an astonishing performance.
What a blessing to have watched all those seasons of The Waltons with my own mother, just a year older than Ellen Corby. What a blessing to have known & to be friends with so many older people who live fully involved lives, even if dealing with the challenges of age, even a stroke or heart attack or dementia.
It was wonderful that Ms. Corby wanted to get back to work, that the producers welcomed her & everyone made the necessary adjustments so it could work. Good role modeling for all of us. How many occupational therapists use Grandma Walton - and Ellen Corby - with their patients? I know that I'll be taking a look at those later episodes, gleaning the wisdom I can from the character & the performance.
Thank you, Ms. Corby - your legacy of Grandma Walton lives on!
Tuesday, September 2, 2014
a natural
Tonight, had the opportunity to meet the daughter of a gentleman for whom I have a particular fondness. He is very quiet, often by himself, but always looks like an interesting person.
His daughter mentioned that she's concerned because he's so much alone. She feels he needs a companion.
Not me. It feels to me that the men at my grannie client's senior lifestyle residence have more than enough women around them. He needs a guy.
Which got me thinking about John & how well he connects with my grannie client, how nimbly he fills in when I've been unavailable. The added bonus is his genuine liking of people, all sorts of people. He treats oldsters the same as he does youngsters - like interesting others he is glad to get to know. He never learned to talk down to kids or v e r y s l o w l y to the elderly. Which is why kids & olders alike think he's aces!
Hadn't thought of John doing for senior senors what I do for grannies. Grinning, thinking what fun he'd have, even just being with someone, not saying anything if that's the right thing. He can engage on a wide range of topics, yet is comfortable with gracious silence.
Hmmm.... John as a gramps listener. He's a natural!
His daughter mentioned that she's concerned because he's so much alone. She feels he needs a companion.
Not me. It feels to me that the men at my grannie client's senior lifestyle residence have more than enough women around them. He needs a guy.
Which got me thinking about John & how well he connects with my grannie client, how nimbly he fills in when I've been unavailable. The added bonus is his genuine liking of people, all sorts of people. He treats oldsters the same as he does youngsters - like interesting others he is glad to get to know. He never learned to talk down to kids or v e r y s l o w l y to the elderly. Which is why kids & olders alike think he's aces!
Hadn't thought of John doing for senior senors what I do for grannies. Grinning, thinking what fun he'd have, even just being with someone, not saying anything if that's the right thing. He can engage on a wide range of topics, yet is comfortable with gracious silence.
Hmmm.... John as a gramps listener. He's a natural!
Tuesday, August 26, 2014
Pudge's!? Seriously??
NOTHING about yesterday's grannie client jaunt turned out as planned. And it all went beyond expectations!
A glorious Monday, the plan was to make an extended outing to Lancaster County, traveling my beloved Route 23, which is from Phoenixville to New Holland is basically all ridge road - what glorious views of hills & sky beckoned us!
I'd expected to do lunch at my g.c.'s senior community residence - until just one peek at the day's selections. Sorry, but bor-ing! My g.c. was definitely deflated by the offerings. So, off we went to the car & on our way!
Lunch - an incredibly low $12! - was at the always epic Feast & Fancy, in Springhouse. My g.c. had generous scoops of three utterly yum salads - fruit, cucumber & potato over a bed of lovely lettuce - while i tucked into seasoned beans, carrot/raisin & cucumber. Oh, and lemonade & V& plus decadent chocolate chip cookies! Picked up a just-right, dirt cheap anniversary present from John to me (hey, it was on sale) & found the perfect "from his heart" gift for him to give me - that one, he will have to go up & get (a Liztech tack of a hand forming "I love you" in sign language).
My ego was greatly fluffed by our lunch - the ladies oooed & ahhhhed over how I look. Felt great!
Ego & tummies both filled, we headed westward. Little did I know what lay ahead.
Shopping centers. Cookie cutter shopping centers, littering the road sides of Route 13. Was so disappointed.
For my grannie client, it was even worse, if that was possible. She was bored. B O R E D. She wanted nothing more than to turn around & head home from such a dull slog. We nipped into a restaurant with a good reputation for excellent ice cream (it was), then turned tail homeward. Down Rt. 10.
Now, I rarely take Route 10. And never south. I prefer a tiny country road that winds down & is bordered with jaw-dropping farm gardens. Had no idea what lay ahead of us.
Beauty. Beauty stretched out before us. And prosperous farms. And horse-drawn buggies. And looong clotheslines, wash fluttering in the breeze. And trees - lots & lots of trees.
My grannie client just could not get over the abundance of trees. They totally wowed her. She loved the narrow road, loved the up & down, up & down of the only slightly homeward bound lanes. I just followed my nose - and a very wise nose it was.
We were in an area that probably 99% of my friends & acquaintances don't know very well. Because of my sister, I am happily familiar with this lovely stretch of Pennsylvania.
How old was I when Mim was nanny to Mary Alice Malone's step daughters? In my late 20s? Early 30s? Will have to ask her. In any case, it was after the demise of the van, so Mim often needed me to be her delighted wheels. Which is how I came to know Iron Spring Farm, as well as its surrounding environs. All of which stood me in excellent stead yesterday, dropping down down down Rt. 10.
It felt in my bones like a route would pop up after Parkesburg to head me back east & sure enough - there was Rt. 926 & the spark of an ancient memory that this was it. What a lovely meander it was, through more lush farms & cozy little villages. What memories sparked as we headed up Rt. 52 - so many drives with various combinations of Dad & Mom & Mim! All of them were with us as we headed toward West Chester.
West Chester has long been dear to my heart, so it was great fun to drive through the heart of that charming town, then heading over (ghastly commercial) Rt. 3 to be-calm-my-beating-heart Strasburg Road.
Dad introduced me to Strasburg Road (which becomes Goshen Road), one of my favorite stretches of road on the planet. Right up there with the Lincoln & Kelly Drives. By this time, my g.c. was beyond amazed - "Do you know EVERY road around here?" - and totally entranced. Why do people take the big roads when such a total charmer gets them to where they're going with less stress & more smiles? Unlike Rt. 23, this beloved road seemed unchanged through the 40+ years I've loved it.
Until we came up to Rt. 252. Breaks my heart to see the gosh awful development that has destroyed what had been John DuPont's massive estate. Nauseating.
Headed up Rt. 252 to Paoli, with Nudy's in Devon our intended dinner destination. My grannie client's opinion of my knowledge of the Main Line grew even deeper, stronger as we turned down itty bitty, oddly skewed E. Conestoga Rd to Nudy's - which was closed! Never realized it only serves breakfast & lunch! Not even slight twinges of regret as we headed under the railroad overpass, toward ridge-ish Upper Gulph Road.
Dipped down Arden Road, left onto Rt. 320, then almost immediately right & right again onto Balligomingo Road, which looks the way it sounds - marvelous - which took us to Front Street (parallel to the Schuylkill River) & Conshohocken.
My g.c. loved saying the name, over & over - Conshohocken.
By the time we headed left up Butler Pike, was running through our dining choices. Brittingham's was out - not open on Mondays. Scoogi's in Flourtown would be okay, but we went there recently. Figured where to go would present itself.
Did it ever! As we were driving past a diner notorious over the past couple decades for frequent change of owners, I spotted yet another new name - PUDGE'S. Pudge's? Seriously?? O be joyful!
Have been a fan of Pudge's ever since my US Healthcare days, going on thirty years ago. Surely a place that boasted perhaps the best cheesesteak in the area would have terrific burgers, beloved by this particular g.c. What a great experience! She actually had a blt, while I tucked into a grilled veggie sandwich that was every bit as fabulous as I remembered the meat version.
If anyone had told me this morning that supper would be a vegetarian-style Pudge's cheesesteak, would have thought them nuts. Yet there we were, two happy campers chomping away on our mega tasty supper!
The rest of the drive was capped with more loveliness - through Erdenheim, past Chestnut Hill College, through the village of Chestnut Hill, then on to my grannie client's hearth & home.
As I said, nothing turned out yesterday the way I'd expected, and it all turned out fabulous. Pudge's for dinner? Seriously? YES!!!
A glorious Monday, the plan was to make an extended outing to Lancaster County, traveling my beloved Route 23, which is from Phoenixville to New Holland is basically all ridge road - what glorious views of hills & sky beckoned us!
I'd expected to do lunch at my g.c.'s senior community residence - until just one peek at the day's selections. Sorry, but bor-ing! My g.c. was definitely deflated by the offerings. So, off we went to the car & on our way!
Lunch - an incredibly low $12! - was at the always epic Feast & Fancy, in Springhouse. My g.c. had generous scoops of three utterly yum salads - fruit, cucumber & potato over a bed of lovely lettuce - while i tucked into seasoned beans, carrot/raisin & cucumber. Oh, and lemonade & V& plus decadent chocolate chip cookies! Picked up a just-right, dirt cheap anniversary present from John to me (hey, it was on sale) & found the perfect "from his heart" gift for him to give me - that one, he will have to go up & get (a Liztech tack of a hand forming "I love you" in sign language).
My ego was greatly fluffed by our lunch - the ladies oooed & ahhhhed over how I look. Felt great!
Ego & tummies both filled, we headed westward. Little did I know what lay ahead.
Shopping centers. Cookie cutter shopping centers, littering the road sides of Route 13. Was so disappointed.
For my grannie client, it was even worse, if that was possible. She was bored. B O R E D. She wanted nothing more than to turn around & head home from such a dull slog. We nipped into a restaurant with a good reputation for excellent ice cream (it was), then turned tail homeward. Down Rt. 10.
Now, I rarely take Route 10. And never south. I prefer a tiny country road that winds down & is bordered with jaw-dropping farm gardens. Had no idea what lay ahead of us.
Beauty. Beauty stretched out before us. And prosperous farms. And horse-drawn buggies. And looong clotheslines, wash fluttering in the breeze. And trees - lots & lots of trees.
My grannie client just could not get over the abundance of trees. They totally wowed her. She loved the narrow road, loved the up & down, up & down of the only slightly homeward bound lanes. I just followed my nose - and a very wise nose it was.
We were in an area that probably 99% of my friends & acquaintances don't know very well. Because of my sister, I am happily familiar with this lovely stretch of Pennsylvania.
How old was I when Mim was nanny to Mary Alice Malone's step daughters? In my late 20s? Early 30s? Will have to ask her. In any case, it was after the demise of the van, so Mim often needed me to be her delighted wheels. Which is how I came to know Iron Spring Farm, as well as its surrounding environs. All of which stood me in excellent stead yesterday, dropping down down down Rt. 10.
It felt in my bones like a route would pop up after Parkesburg to head me back east & sure enough - there was Rt. 926 & the spark of an ancient memory that this was it. What a lovely meander it was, through more lush farms & cozy little villages. What memories sparked as we headed up Rt. 52 - so many drives with various combinations of Dad & Mom & Mim! All of them were with us as we headed toward West Chester.
West Chester has long been dear to my heart, so it was great fun to drive through the heart of that charming town, then heading over (ghastly commercial) Rt. 3 to be-calm-my-beating-heart Strasburg Road.
Dad introduced me to Strasburg Road (which becomes Goshen Road), one of my favorite stretches of road on the planet. Right up there with the Lincoln & Kelly Drives. By this time, my g.c. was beyond amazed - "Do you know EVERY road around here?" - and totally entranced. Why do people take the big roads when such a total charmer gets them to where they're going with less stress & more smiles? Unlike Rt. 23, this beloved road seemed unchanged through the 40+ years I've loved it.
Until we came up to Rt. 252. Breaks my heart to see the gosh awful development that has destroyed what had been John DuPont's massive estate. Nauseating.
Headed up Rt. 252 to Paoli, with Nudy's in Devon our intended dinner destination. My grannie client's opinion of my knowledge of the Main Line grew even deeper, stronger as we turned down itty bitty, oddly skewed E. Conestoga Rd to Nudy's - which was closed! Never realized it only serves breakfast & lunch! Not even slight twinges of regret as we headed under the railroad overpass, toward ridge-ish Upper Gulph Road.
Dipped down Arden Road, left onto Rt. 320, then almost immediately right & right again onto Balligomingo Road, which looks the way it sounds - marvelous - which took us to Front Street (parallel to the Schuylkill River) & Conshohocken.
My g.c. loved saying the name, over & over - Conshohocken.
By the time we headed left up Butler Pike, was running through our dining choices. Brittingham's was out - not open on Mondays. Scoogi's in Flourtown would be okay, but we went there recently. Figured where to go would present itself.
Did it ever! As we were driving past a diner notorious over the past couple decades for frequent change of owners, I spotted yet another new name - PUDGE'S. Pudge's? Seriously?? O be joyful!
Have been a fan of Pudge's ever since my US Healthcare days, going on thirty years ago. Surely a place that boasted perhaps the best cheesesteak in the area would have terrific burgers, beloved by this particular g.c. What a great experience! She actually had a blt, while I tucked into a grilled veggie sandwich that was every bit as fabulous as I remembered the meat version.
If anyone had told me this morning that supper would be a vegetarian-style Pudge's cheesesteak, would have thought them nuts. Yet there we were, two happy campers chomping away on our mega tasty supper!
The rest of the drive was capped with more loveliness - through Erdenheim, past Chestnut Hill College, through the village of Chestnut Hill, then on to my grannie client's hearth & home.
As I said, nothing turned out yesterday the way I'd expected, and it all turned out fabulous. Pudge's for dinner? Seriously? YES!!!
Thursday, August 21, 2014
to & fro
John mentioned - several times - on our drive into last night's Death Cafe how much a jazz-loving grannie client would have loved last night's adventure.
Although storm clouds were gathering, it was a wondrous ride into Center City, taking the circuitous yet so much calmer route through Chestnut Hill, along the Lincoln & Kelly Drives, past the Art Museum, up the Parkway, over to Walnut, then up 19th St to our $12 (!) parking.
It's always a pleasure for me (if few others) to drive the windy Lincoln Drive, hugging the Wissahickon Creek. Knockout beauty all around! And there were dragon boats on the Schuylkill! Oh, how she would have reveled at the sight of those extra long shells with ALL those paddlers!
The swing past the Art Museum was flawless & the fountains at Logan Circle looked especially merry, with City Hall serving as a Beaux Art back drop.
She wouldn't have enjoyed the five city block walk to the gathering, although she would have been intrigued by the shops & restaurants & architecture we nipped past.
She absolutely would have gloried in hastily hoofing it back to Square on Square in time for the last bit of the All-Star Jazz Trio's second set & the ENTIRE final swing. Featuring, to our surprised & profound wonder, Peggy King! We'll keep to our selves what a magical experience it was, hearing the four of them singing classics from the American Song Book.
Praise be, the trio & Peggy will be playing at the Ambler Theater in early October, so hopefully my g.c. will get to hear her there!
The special surprises of the evening didn't end when Peggy said her adieu, around the middle of the final set. Andy had ANOTHER older chanteuse join them for a fabulous rendition of Once I Had A Secret Love. The woman owned the room & even put Doris Day's rendition of the song in the shade!
Floated out the door to our car & a stunning night drive down the West River Drive. May all our Death Cafe gatherings have such unforgettable beginnings & flourishing ends!
Why write a post about an outing that did NOT include a grannie client? Because four out of the five performers last night were over 65 - Peggy is 84 & going strong, with concerts over the past two months in L.A., in Manhattan, in Atlantic City, with several more coming up, including the gig at Ambler's Act II theater. WOW! My idea of fabulous eldering!!
Although storm clouds were gathering, it was a wondrous ride into Center City, taking the circuitous yet so much calmer route through Chestnut Hill, along the Lincoln & Kelly Drives, past the Art Museum, up the Parkway, over to Walnut, then up 19th St to our $12 (!) parking.
It's always a pleasure for me (if few others) to drive the windy Lincoln Drive, hugging the Wissahickon Creek. Knockout beauty all around! And there were dragon boats on the Schuylkill! Oh, how she would have reveled at the sight of those extra long shells with ALL those paddlers!
The swing past the Art Museum was flawless & the fountains at Logan Circle looked especially merry, with City Hall serving as a Beaux Art back drop.
She wouldn't have enjoyed the five city block walk to the gathering, although she would have been intrigued by the shops & restaurants & architecture we nipped past.
She absolutely would have gloried in hastily hoofing it back to Square on Square in time for the last bit of the All-Star Jazz Trio's second set & the ENTIRE final swing. Featuring, to our surprised & profound wonder, Peggy King! We'll keep to our selves what a magical experience it was, hearing the four of them singing classics from the American Song Book.
Praise be, the trio & Peggy will be playing at the Ambler Theater in early October, so hopefully my g.c. will get to hear her there!
The special surprises of the evening didn't end when Peggy said her adieu, around the middle of the final set. Andy had ANOTHER older chanteuse join them for a fabulous rendition of Once I Had A Secret Love. The woman owned the room & even put Doris Day's rendition of the song in the shade!
Floated out the door to our car & a stunning night drive down the West River Drive. May all our Death Cafe gatherings have such unforgettable beginnings & flourishing ends!
Why write a post about an outing that did NOT include a grannie client? Because four out of the five performers last night were over 65 - Peggy is 84 & going strong, with concerts over the past two months in L.A., in Manhattan, in Atlantic City, with several more coming up, including the gig at Ambler's Act II theater. WOW! My idea of fabulous eldering!!
attended my first Death Cafe
John & I headed into Center City Philadelphia for our first - certainly not last - Death Cafe. A fairly recent phenom, Death Cafes are a place for people to gather & talk about death & dying as they eat & drink.
Our gathering was at Le Pain Quotidien, in the heart of Philadelphia. We parked a (long) five blocks away, near Square on Square. Hey, it was a Wednesday night - figured if the gathering finished at 8:30, as scheduled, we'd hoof it back to 19th & Chestnut in plenty of time to catch at least one set of the All-Stars Jazz Trio.
Both of us enjoyed the walk down & over to the restaurant, in spite of threatening clouds. Introductions had already started by the time we arrived. What a rich range of experience & interests!
Since discussion is confidential, can't share a lot, except to say that it was well worth the drive into the city. A lot of interesting insights, opinions and expectations. There were people there with gobs of experience in working with the dying, even one woman who had written a book touching on the subject.
To the person who was dismissive of my own book on inter-generational activities for grandparents & other grand friends - where was the science behind them? had to explain that the words "dementia" & "Alzheimer's" would be noticeably absence - may I repeat that my credentials don't include MSW or PhD, but am quite comfortable with tried & true LOVE.
A few seemed put off because my focus is on LIVING. This was a discussion about death! But the young lady to my right, who had to leave soon after we arrived, got it - life & death go hand in hand. When Mom spent a good part of her last week answering e-mails from local college Psych 101 students about transitioning, she focused on her still strong elan vital more than on the mundane details of pegging out.
Now that I'm more tuned into the Death Cafe dynamics, there are a lot of areas that beckon. Our culture seems so messed up when it comes to our expectations of death & even more so our (reasonable) fear of a prolonged dying. What are the purposes of the deterioration process, whether it happens at the end of a long life flow, as it did for Mom, or interrupts it mid-stream, as happened with Dad? How can we approach death with reverence & even difficult deaths with a full awareness of being useful to our final breath? Beyond questions of the purpose of death, how do we live out a lifelong partnership with death, what do we find purposeful about our relationship to death?
The key dynamic of strangers talking about their views feelings hopes about death & dying is the very underpinning of a Death Cafe. Strangers - and not a one allowed to stand on a soap box to promote his or her beliefs, each one required to respect the others.
Most of the participants at last night's cafe were boomers, with a few older & several younger, but there's no age limitation - anyone with an interest, for whatever reason, in dying & death.
One young woman who had planned on being there for some time had a fresh reason for seeking counsel - her best friend's brother had been killed just the day before in a terrible accident. How could she best support her friend, she asked. That opened up some of the best discussion of the evening.
Imagine hearing, over a span of gatherings, how a variety of people experience dying & death, from childhood to the present day. To learn how they've broached or handled the deterioration or sudden deaths of loved ones. How do they mourn? What does grief look like, feel like to them? How have they talked about the future with a seriously ill parent, with a child diagnosed with a terminal condition, with a critically injured friend? What steps have people taken to prepare for their own death, whatever the age?
Sorry if it seemed sort of out of place last night, but my personal attitude toward death will always be to see even the most difficult - my vibrant father suffering the realization that his cancer-inflicted brain was working against him, not with him; a friend's mother suffering through Parkinson's; a cousin's daughter suddenly gone after a car crash; my own brother shot dead at 11 - as walking hand in hand with life.
That's my Death Cafe story & I'm sticking with it! What would yours be? What would you like to share, hear about dying & death? More news coming on the next Death Cafe, maybe even one organized by this future death doula!
Our gathering was at Le Pain Quotidien, in the heart of Philadelphia. We parked a (long) five blocks away, near Square on Square. Hey, it was a Wednesday night - figured if the gathering finished at 8:30, as scheduled, we'd hoof it back to 19th & Chestnut in plenty of time to catch at least one set of the All-Stars Jazz Trio.
Both of us enjoyed the walk down & over to the restaurant, in spite of threatening clouds. Introductions had already started by the time we arrived. What a rich range of experience & interests!
Since discussion is confidential, can't share a lot, except to say that it was well worth the drive into the city. A lot of interesting insights, opinions and expectations. There were people there with gobs of experience in working with the dying, even one woman who had written a book touching on the subject.
To the person who was dismissive of my own book on inter-generational activities for grandparents & other grand friends - where was the science behind them? had to explain that the words "dementia" & "Alzheimer's" would be noticeably absence - may I repeat that my credentials don't include MSW or PhD, but am quite comfortable with tried & true LOVE.
A few seemed put off because my focus is on LIVING. This was a discussion about death! But the young lady to my right, who had to leave soon after we arrived, got it - life & death go hand in hand. When Mom spent a good part of her last week answering e-mails from local college Psych 101 students about transitioning, she focused on her still strong elan vital more than on the mundane details of pegging out.
Now that I'm more tuned into the Death Cafe dynamics, there are a lot of areas that beckon. Our culture seems so messed up when it comes to our expectations of death & even more so our (reasonable) fear of a prolonged dying. What are the purposes of the deterioration process, whether it happens at the end of a long life flow, as it did for Mom, or interrupts it mid-stream, as happened with Dad? How can we approach death with reverence & even difficult deaths with a full awareness of being useful to our final breath? Beyond questions of the purpose of death, how do we live out a lifelong partnership with death, what do we find purposeful about our relationship to death?
The key dynamic of strangers talking about their views feelings hopes about death & dying is the very underpinning of a Death Cafe. Strangers - and not a one allowed to stand on a soap box to promote his or her beliefs, each one required to respect the others.
Most of the participants at last night's cafe were boomers, with a few older & several younger, but there's no age limitation - anyone with an interest, for whatever reason, in dying & death.
One young woman who had planned on being there for some time had a fresh reason for seeking counsel - her best friend's brother had been killed just the day before in a terrible accident. How could she best support her friend, she asked. That opened up some of the best discussion of the evening.
Imagine hearing, over a span of gatherings, how a variety of people experience dying & death, from childhood to the present day. To learn how they've broached or handled the deterioration or sudden deaths of loved ones. How do they mourn? What does grief look like, feel like to them? How have they talked about the future with a seriously ill parent, with a child diagnosed with a terminal condition, with a critically injured friend? What steps have people taken to prepare for their own death, whatever the age?
Sorry if it seemed sort of out of place last night, but my personal attitude toward death will always be to see even the most difficult - my vibrant father suffering the realization that his cancer-inflicted brain was working against him, not with him; a friend's mother suffering through Parkinson's; a cousin's daughter suddenly gone after a car crash; my own brother shot dead at 11 - as walking hand in hand with life.
That's my Death Cafe story & I'm sticking with it! What would yours be? What would you like to share, hear about dying & death? More news coming on the next Death Cafe, maybe even one organized by this future death doula!
Monday, August 18, 2014
You go, girl!
Sometimes, it feels like the Universe sends a "You go, girl!" shout out my way. Like this morning...
As a grannie client & I got onto the elevator at her "senior
lifestyle community," an artist friend of John's & two women were
already going down.
Gave him a big smile as I entered the elevator & said, "Hi! I'm John Murphy's wife."
He smiled back & said, "You came to my house, didn't
you?"
"Sure did," I answered. "John's working on a painting for the
Phillips' Mill art show - a cat!"
"Tell John, I want to see
it!" he responded enthusiastically.
Gee, I thought, exiting the elevator, he wasn't as affected by dementia as I'd heard. We got out, he
& the others remained.
As the doors closed, his wife said, all excited, to the
other woman, "Did you HEAR that?!! Did you HEAR him!!"
Oh, my!
It was
probably the art that made a difference, like to think it was my smile,
too.
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