Anniversaries

Today is April 1, 2019.  As of yesterday I have been a resident of San Antonio for two years.  And yesterday I was feeling down and out and a bit blue until I realized that two years ago last month everything in my life shifted, an earthquake of feelings where all the treasured landmarks of my life went topsy-turvy.  And the loss of everything took over.  My dearest friend, partner in crime and lover of 58 years was gone and I rode away from all things familiar into a new life in a new city comforted only by my son and his family and a friend from childhood.

They say change is good and I'm still working on that one.  Last year I upgraded to a bigger apartment giving me an office and studio and a wonderful balcony with a beautiful view of the Texas hill country.  I hung the hummingbird feeders this week and within twenty minutes I had customers. Again I'm sure one of them is He Who Sleeps a Lot coming back to check on me.  And he ain't sleeping anymore...he's very busy.

Today our facility goes under new management and a name change to Discovery Village at the Dominion and we are all anxiously awaiting improvements.  Discovery Senior Living has years of experience so they should know what works and what doesn't where the previous owners were on a learning curve from the get go.

I've traveled and had some wonderful experiences with friends and family and am looking forward to more this year.  I just returned from Mexico, will go to Colorado next month and to Costa Rica in June.  I have learned in all of this that I am no spring chicken any more and cannot manage long air travel and don't do well at 7000'.  However I have much to look forward to.

My creative self needed a boost and the art retreat in Mexico was just right.  I haven't been painting or writing....is that part of the grief process?  Maybe.  I remember a good friend, fabulous portrait painter, just quit painting when her husband died.  At the time I didn't get it but I do now.  Weird, isn't it?  As an art therapist you would think that would be the first thing I would turn to but I'm relieved the muse has finally reappeared and I'm ready to see where she takes me.

I remember at a conference one time a speaker saying "The best thing you can teach your children is the ability to adjust to change."  He was right!  Change is the constant in our lives and the challenge to growing old with grace and wisdom.

Where from here?

Is it time to move on to new horizons and a new blog?  At what point is my journey no longer about recovery but about my life as it goes forward on a different journey?  I am single.  It's a fact!  I no longer reach across the bed to make sure my partner is there or hesitate to turn on the light in the middle of the night.  Going out to dinner with the Watercrest gang this week really drove it home.  I was the only one who was there alone.  A few weeks ago I was the only single woman who went to the baseball game with the group.  That surprised me.  But I survived! 
And I have a lot more to say, I do.  Look at the environment!  the President!  the health care system!  dating!  life among the elderly!  I'm not ready to shut up, that's for sure.  So look out folks, the old lady ain't done yet!  It ain't over til the fat lady sings.

And who is she now?

It's November and finally a bit chilly but rainy here in San Antonio.  September was the rainiest month on record here in the hill country.  So we carry umbrellas while California burns.  So crazy!

So what's the old gal been up to in her recovery?  Well, damn if her eyes still leak like crazy when the guest musician plays "Can I have this dance for the rest of my life" or "Waltz across Texas".  My friends are used to it by now and just hand me a tissue.  Do I want that to go away?  Yes and no....I love those beautiful memories of being held close and moving across the dance floor.  It was one of those things we could do together until the very end.  But I remain hopeful now that I will once again have that experience with someone else.

I have had a few dates that have been a lot of fun and have joined a couple of dating websites. OMG has that ever been an adventure and hilarious at times.  Gee but it is a lot of work to put yourself out there.  Nothing of real interest has shown up so far.  My girlfriends say all these guys lie about their age....really?  Why would anyone lie about being 86 years old?  One guy's picture shows him with an oxygen tube in his nose.  Geezus!  I have this fantasy that Prince Charming is just going to show up at the right time if it is meant to be.  In the meantime I need to get on with my life and get involved.

Life here at Watercrest at the Dominion as improved considerably with the appointment of a new director...some of the growing pains of a brand new community have been resolved though there will always be some.  I now serve on the Advisory Board of the Resident Association as others have stepped up to tackle responsible positions...a big relief.

In the meantime I have moved out of my box into a larger apartment, two bedrooms and two baths so now I have an office/studio to work in and I love it.  The move here was so chaotic... you understand if you have read my earlier writing.  The sudden death of my husband at the edge of our move forced some fast decisions on where to go and what to do.  Not knowing exactly what my financial situation was going to be I chose a smaller one bedroom apartment...it was the right decision at the time but now I am on firmer ground hopefully making better choices and I love the new balcony overlooking the hill country.  Looking back at that difficult time had we not been packed and ready to move, it probably would have been wiser to stay put for at least a couple months to get my feet back under me.with the support of friends as well as family.

In June I was able to go to Loveland to visit my in-laws who moved there and my wonderful nieces and then go on to Boulder to work with my writing coach, Max Regan, for 10 days of a writing retreat...especially fun as several of my writing buddies from Houston were there.  I'm finding editing a lot harder than writing.

Last month I joined 3 girlfriends from here on a river cruise beginning in Slovakia, then Vienna, Germany and ending in Amsterdam.  It was great to get away and visit parts of Europe I had not been to....disappointing in that we were only able to be on the ship for 7 days as the extreme drought has lowered the level of the Danube and Rhine to the point they are not navigable.
So this gypsy soul has been fed, at least for the time being.  A change of scenery does help move the grief to the side and I recommend it.

I always enjoy your comments if you have managed to read through all this.
Thanks....

Finding a new me...wooo hooo...who is she now?

It has been a year now since your passing and it will always leave a void in my heart, a blank space in my soul.  I read over my memories of  your last days and weep but it is getting easier.  And I have come to realize that I really was feeling the loss of you years ago when Alzheimer's began its claim on you and our life together.  And I was grieving long before your passing.  In this new community of retirees I watch with compassion as I witness other wives caring for husbands no longer remembering what they had for lunch.  I know what it is like to hang on to the last threads of your partner as their memory fades.  I still lose my composure when the band plays "Can I have this dance for the rest of my life?"  It was our song and we danced to it time and time again. 

So I have filled my life with writing and activism serving as vice president of our newly formed Residents Council , a sounding board for residents and liaison with management.   I hang out with family when they are available, play cards, go out to eat, go to water aerobics, plan trips, shop online and go to doctor appointments but the longing is till there.  I try to fill it with TV and Facebook, poor numbing substitutes. 

And now a new dilemma...a man has stepped into my life, a man who describes himself as a tall, dark and handsome who can drive at night and in the rain, a definite plus with old ladies.  And he has a sense of humor, a huge hook for me as laughs are a premium asset to any friendship in my book.  I'm terrified!  Not of him, he has been nothing but kind and cautious but this new awareness of how desperately lonely and vulnerable I am is frightening.  I don't know if I can trust my judgment on anything but I do know that now for the first time in a long time I am capable of pure joy, laughter and a sensuality that was long forgotten.  And I am enjoying it.  Wow!  Who woulda thunk! 

Damn Alzheimer's!  It takes such a toll on the caregiver as well as the patient.  We lose parts of ourselves without even knowing it.  I am damn lucky to be rediscovering some.

A celebration of life

At long last the tree at Johnson Center is planted and the ceremony went very well in spite of the cold weather.  About 40 attended, many of whom were co-workers of my husband and it was such an honor that they took the time to come along with family members.  I surprised myself and see it as a marker of healing that I was able to get through the whole thing without breaking down.  Here is what I read:

Today We Celebrate a Life

           " A year ago today Ken was fetching and lifting helping me recover from a hip replacement and prepare for the move to San Antonio to be near our son and his family.  The move had been in the works for months while we waited for our designated apartment to be finished.  We were moving around boxes in our apartment full of the treasures and crap we felt we couldn’t live without.  Ken had done an amazing job of reducing his paper piles to a single box.  And those of you who had seen the piles know what a job that was for someone with Alzheimer’s.  But he did it well and seemed to be really on board for the move.  The movers were scheduled for March 1.  Ready, set, go.

A week later was a different story.  In spite of the flu shots and pneumonia shots we both came down with the flu that was going around our retirement community.  Ken’s cough sounded awful.  Karen took him to the ER on February 22^nd where he got antibiotics and I was told that if he developed a fever, bring him back.  He did and short story even shorter, he was admitted to the hospital, diagnosed with pneumonia, put in ICU, went into cardiac arrest, was resuscitated and passed away on February 27^th.  Holy moly!  Talk about a game changer!  Karen with her ironic sense of humor said to him in the hospital, “Gee, Dad, if you didn’t want to move, all you had to do is say so.”  Our son Chris was there to the bitter end and was the rock we all leaned on and still do.  His twin brother, Keith, and his wife, Sue, were angels taking care of me.

So here we are now a year later.  I went ahead with the move though delayed a few weeks.  I am so grateful for all the support all of you have given me.  It has been amazing and such a demonstration of your connection, love and respect for this amazing man.  It has given me a year of gratitude in so many ways.  Grief is so weird and comes in waves and moments of reflection or just out of the blue.  Your support pulls me through.

Ken loved his work.  He not only loved his work but lived it.  He was excited about the space program when he first came to work here in 1964 and never lost that enthusiasm.  Wouldn’t he love the Space X launch this week! He was a futurist; he was always looking out into the years beyond at the potential of moving and living in space not just next year but in twenty years, thirty years.  He wanted a long-range plan step by step to make living in space a viable option.  He was an organizer with a following….me included…touching many lives, mentoring with kindness and patience. 

There was spiritual side to Ken that I was privileged to witness on many occasions.  He went to conferences on creativity and consciousness where he served on panels with people like Barbara Marx Hubbard, Rupert Sheldrake and Jan Phillips.  Ken loved music, all kinds of music and he loved to dance.  Did you know that?  He wasn’t a great dancer but he loved to get out on the floor and boogie.  Waltz Across Texas became our song and I have a melt-down whenever I hear it.  We held Lifetime tickets to the Kerrville Folk Festival supporting Rod Kennedy and the gang from their beginnings in the Kerrville Auditorium all the way to Quiet Valley Ranch.  Every Memorial Day would find us camping near Kerrville through the mud and the crud, rain or shine rocking to Peter Yarrow of Peter, Paul and Mary or Kinky Friedman and strings of others.  Ken loved them all and loved sharing this love with his children and lastly his oldest granddaughter.

And politics?  Oh my, he was fascinated, spellbound and never hesitant to jump in with his opinion.  He served on the Charter Commission to get Nassau Bay incorporated as a city.  He served on the Vestry at the church and helped lead the struggle to remove a priest who was not performing ethically.  At one point years ago before NASA he served as a Precinct Chair and much later behind the scenes supported Sissy Farenthold in her failed attempt at governor.  As his Alzheimers progressed, he stayed glued to MSNBC covering the last Presidential election and I frequently wonder if he may have checked out because he felt he couldn’t tolerate Trump as President.

I am so very grateful to have shared a life with this geeky guy with the crew cut and glasses who when we first dated gave me an invitation to a St. Swithins Day party written on toilet paper.  His sense of humor had me hooked from the beginning.  We had millions of laughs following.  He was funny, smart and sensitive.  Who could resist a guy who can shed a tear in a movie?  What a combination we were…the engineer and the artist.  At that St. Swithins Day party in that tiny cabin midst the cedars in Austin I had no idea of the adventures ahead and the places this man would lead me.

He never failed to support me or our children in whatever crazy thing we wanted to do.  You want to play soccer?  Okay, I’ll coach the girls’ team even though I’ve never seen a soccer game.  You want to go to grad school in Georgetown?  Great, we’ll help.  You want to buy property for a studio in Webster?  Here’s the money.  You want to build a big gas kiln?  I will haul the brick.  You got a teaching offer in Australia?  Go for it.  He gave us the courage and confidence to go for it and we will be eternally grateful.

Thank you for being here today to celebrate a life well-lived.  It is so appropriate to have this lasting growing memorial for a man who dreamed a presence in space for years to come.

God bless NASA, the space program and all of you."

It feels as if the last piece is in place now and I am sleeping better than I have in months.  For some crazy reason I feel I can now get on with my life whatever that may turn out to be.  Ken will always be a part of my life and amazingly I lunched today with new residents who worked for NASA and knew Ken.  Small world and interesting timing.  He will always have a huge part of my heart but now my role is new and different, perhaps as support to others who are walking the path of caregiver.

Whoa....where did that come from?

Good heavens!  Where did that come from?  Am I nuts?  Is this what grief looks like?  I'm sitting watching some benign show on TV and all of a sudden break out into racking sobs...deep, heavy body shaking racking sobs for several minutes.  I finally get a grip, grab a tissue and then here they come again.  What the hell?  Where did that come from?  For the life of me I can't figure out what triggered this.  The whole episode was over in about fifteen minutes and then it was gone.  I felt a sense of relief when it was all over.  January 22?  Is that an anniversary of some event I can't recall?  Last year on that date I was still in rehab so who knows.  Is this the way grief works?  Wow!!!

I survived with a lot of help from these guys plus one...

I had been dreading the holidays as it would bring so many memories of all the years together with Ken.  Somehow no matter where we were on the planet we always spent Christmas together with family.  While our parents were alive, we always managed to be with them.  It helped a lot that they were in the same town and sometimes they came to our house.  It was tamales for Christmas Eve followed by church and ham for Christmas Dinner.  Stockings were hung and brought great fun on Christmas morning regardless of how old the children were.
Well, this Christmas was saved by my son, Chris, and his family.  They kept me busy doing such fun things that I didn't even have time to be sad.  A wonderful Italian dinner out on Christmas Eve with friends followed by a tour of Christmas lights.  And Christmas Day full of surprises from Santa and lots of laughter and gifts galore.  Even Cash, the new puppy fresh out of surgery (you might guess what his Christmas present was) and old Gatsby the Beagle enjoyed the goodies from their stockings.
It was a wonderful day.  I could feel Ken enjoying the scene but it was all okay.
So now I prepare for new beginnings in this coming 2018 and am grateful for my health and that I still seem to have most of my marbles rolling around in the old noggin.
I am blessed, so very blessed!

You've got a friend in me????

I hate to throw anything negative out during this holiday season but here goes......
A warning to all my elderly vulnerable widow girl friends and maybe even male friends:  there are folks out there who troll the Internet for people like you and me in hopes they may score a target.  Yes, there are risks to being out there on the Internet!  Yes, I know that but not until I broadcast my loss of spouse on Facebook did I experience the impact.

Within a week of Ken's passing I began receiving lots of "friend requests" from males I had never heard of or even with any mutual friends.  I shared this with a male friend and his reaction was "Just tell me who they are.  I'm going to beat them up."  Oh, great!  But months later it is still going on and I'm baffled as to how it can be worth the time of these yo-yos to go phishing for us poor lonely widows.  And what gives our status away?  Is there a software that detects us somehow?  A key word?  And I guess I am an easy target since I have a "public" setting on my Facebook account because I want to have my blog out there.

But here's where it got weird.  I got a text message from an "Edwin Nygard" who claimed to live in Las Vegas, NM and would like to talk with me.  Well, I know folk in Las Vegas so I answered it.  He claimed to be widowed for 4 years, had a son in boarding school, missed his dear wife, Ann, and could we talk on the phone.  I avoided that and then he wanted to know how old I was.  I wrote him , " Older than dirt."  I questioned how he found me and he claimed he had seen my picture.  He then sent the picture and sure enough there I was at a table having lunch with friends about 8 years ago.  He claimed he was Facebook friends with one of the women in the picture.  I checked that out and of course, no such thing.  Then there were a series of daily greetings, comments on the weather followed by another request for my age.  I asked "Why?  Are you trying to sell me insurance?"  I quit responding and the messages got even weirder--he could tell from the picture that I was the one he was looking for-- and I unfriended him.  Gone but how creepy!  I felt I was being stalked and at the same time gullible for even responding at all.

But I am amazed at the research that he had done on me and the information that was available.  How in the world did he get that picture?  Yesterday on The View Dr. Phil was on talking about this very problem and told about a client, a widower, who had been milked out of thousands of dollars by a woman who had taken another woman's identity and began an online relationship.

Yesterday another widow resident showed me on her cell phone a whole string of unanswered phone numbers she said were scams.  It is that time of year, folks, so just be wary.

It's Christmas time in Texas complete with snow and I welcomed the lift to my spirits.  This holiday without Ken is more difficult than I imagined.  The Christmas music starts and I get all weepy.  But there have been some delightful and joyful moments.  I love to dance and find myself experiencing pure joy dancing for the first time in a long time.  Caregiving has a way of sucking the joy out of life no matter how hard you try to make it happen.  And when joy pops in, it feels so good.

I'm trying to keep myself busy and to participate in the activities offered here at Watercrest and this month is full of them with dinners out, parties and entertainment.  But the most fun of all has been with my son and his family.  My grandson has had a banner month receiving the Eagle Scout award on the 2nd.  It was a beautiful ceremony at his church and uncles and aunts came from far away to be there for him.  I had moments of tears however as Ken had been looking forward to being there for Sam.  Perhaps he was there in spirit...I like to think so.  Ken and his twin brother were Eagle Scouts and I was able to give Sam some of his grandfather's badge cards and sash which were on display along with his uncle's. 

Tuesday night I attended Sam's induction ceremony into the National Honor Society.  So fun to be in the midst of all those smart adorable young people.  I'm a very proud Nana!  I was in the Honor Society and don't remember any kind of ceremony with it...just my name on a list.  It seems that getting into college these days is much tougher than it used to be and all these extracurricular activities make a big difference. 

Today I will go to my son's home to enjoy his big office party and maybe try to corral their puppy, Cash, somewhere.  They are expecting 100 guests which should send Cash into a frenzy.  The weather is beautiful, crisp and clear.  Tomorrow I will join other residents in honoring our management with our potluck dinner.  I have decorated my apartment in an effort to keep some semblance of the holiday around.  I'm in this "fertile void" to quote Katrina Kenison, author of my new favorite book, Magical Journey, where none of the old ways of being and doing some to work anymore. I'm giving my self permission to grieve, to cry and experience loneliness.  It is all about letting go and moving on to new beginnings.  2018 brings new possibilities and hope for more joy and wellness.  I might even learn to tango...does Santa tango?

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!  May your holidays be filled with joy!  I'm working on it.

Learning how to widow

My bedroom is small, a shift from the larger one we had planned on.  I’m comfortable now sleeping on a twin bed, half of the split king we had shared. The smaller bed leaves room for a desk, a chair, a chest with a TV and even a small armoire...tight but okay. Two large windows look past the well-lighted parking lot toward the hills and are covered by venetian blinds.  I can be fascinated by the light patterns on the ceiling created by the early morning sun.

I wake, glance at the neon numbers on the clock—3:00 am.  I rise slowly and silently not to wake my companion. Laughing at my old habits, I flip on the lamp, walk to the bathroom.  Though I’m chuckling my heart fills with your absence and the challenge of living alone after all these years.  Someone said to me at your memorial service, “Now you are free to do whatever you want.”  What I want is to turn on the damn light when I can’t sleep, to turn on the TV, to eat crackers and peanut butter in bed in the middle of the night.

Those bigger ideas, the bigger wants, the bigger dreams will just have to wait—all the choices are overwhelming right now.  I find myself self-medicating with Facebook, Dancing with the Stars and Blue Bell coffee ice cream.  At the same time aware that I have those choices now, I'm grateful that I can begin to explore options and opportunities I had only dreamed about.  What next?  I am learning how to be a widow.  I've never done this before.

It would have been 59 years today...

Fifty nine years ago today I made the best decision of my life and married this brilliant, funny kind man.  I've really missed him this week as I watch from afar our friends in Houston try to get their lives back in order following Hurricane Harvey, the worst storm ever to hit the coast. All that loss seemed to trigger my own losses this year.   I find myself glancing over at the recliner next to me looking for comfort from the guy beside me...an old habit that is hard to let go of.  And I miss our wonderful friends of many years and wish I were there to help in some way. This widowhood business just sucks sometimes.  Losing my best friend and all that I lost in the move here makes for some lonely days and evenings.  Now it is up to me to meet the challenge and I'm working on it.

So today I will celebrate our anniversary by getting a new crown in my mouth and be grateful that I can pay for it thanks to that great guy I married.  And grateful that I have found an awesome dentist just down the highway.   The weather is gorgeous with a cool front on its way.
Tonight I'll have a Shiner Bach in your honor.  Happy Anniversary, Ken Cox.  I love you.

Unbelievable catastrophe....

The mess in Houston is just beyond wrapping one's mind around and it ain't over.  My granddaughter is surrounded by water in Conroe but okay, thank God.  My nephew is stranded in a 4th floor loft near downtown Houston surrounded by water but okay.  But friend after friend is reporting in from flooded houses and it is still raining.  So much loss!  It will be years before Houston recovers.  Businesses closed, people can't get out their doors to go anywhere.  Rescue still going on as reservoirs overflow.  Will it ever end???
My heart is on my sleeve and I weep at every picture of people volunteering their boats to rescue, the pictures of firemen carrying women carrying babies.  I weep seeing boats sail past houses flooded for the first time ever with water to their roof tops.  It all touches that spot of my own grief over recent losses.  But then some of the tears I shed in guilty gratitude that I am not there, that I am here at the edge of the hill country with food, electricity, family and friends but wishing I could do more to help.
Please donate to the American Red Cross, the Salvation Army, the Houston Food Bank.  Thousands have lost everything.

Nothing like a get-away....

Nothing lifts one's spirit like a weekend lakeside in the Texas hill country with family....eating great food, laughing a lot and boating.  Lake LBJ is so pretty but oh my, what a change from my memories of fishing with my dad.  Then it was called Granite Shoals and there were few if any houses on the waterfront.  Now the lakefront is populated with multi-million dollar homes for the rich and famous like Roger Staubach and former astronaut Jim Mitchell.  And lots of jet skis.
Thank you dear son and daughter-in-law for treating me to this lovely weekend.  It even included a couple of hours of puppy hugging...we ran into a pet adoption group at Save the World brewery in Marble Falls who had a litter of 11 puppies up for adoption.  It was hard to walk away from an adorable white little guy with a brown and black face but the challenge of puppy training just doesn't fit for any of us right now.

Lonely on the rocky path...

There are days as a recovering caregiver that I think I may be losing it but these are usually followed by days where I feel on top of things but lately the grief of losing my spouse, my best friend of most of my life has been grabbing me by the shoulders and shaking me.  "looky here, girl.  This is it!  He's gone and left a great big void.  So now what?"
I look around this small apartment and go "what the fuck happened?"  This is not what I thought my life would be at 80.  I'm struggling to come to terms with the reality that this is the last hurrah.  This is where I will be the rest of my life.  My life seems to have become so small.  I know it didn't happen overnight...it was getting smaller with age and with caregiving, especially with the move into the first retirement community.  And now it seems just plain small.  I've left house, pets, friends, some family behind and even though I'm in a beautiful place with other women sharing the same experiences, life just feels damn small.  I see the same people every day...the same for breakfast and lunch every day.  Not that they aren't wonderful people but it is the same people.  I think a more positive thought is that they are now my family and in many ways are as caring yet dysfunctional as any family but this family is old and facing all the issues of aging that I am.  I suppose that is comforting in a way and I try to think of it that way.

I get out art supplies and try to start something but lose interest or get distracted with the next event or should I empty the dishwasher or check my email.  I can't seem to get anything written even though an occasional line runs through my head. I think of what I used to tell depressed clients: exercise, call a friend and I do those things.  But I miss that creative self that was used to looking at opportunities and saying yes.  People tell me "You are free now to do anything you want."  So where did my motivation go?   My fascination with the unknown?  I guess He-Who had my back for so long that I felt I could do most anything.  Even with Alzheimer's I felt he had my back...a ridiculous thought but still there.  I do recall when a dear friend suddenly lost her husband, she quit painting.  She was an amazing portrait painter!  Now I understand!  I get it!  Perhaps this is the darkness I need to go through to get to the other side.
I've had a wonderful trip recently to visit family who pampered me well and that experience really helped!  It was good to get out in the world for a few days and hang out with some amazing folk in beautiful Colorado.  And more travel is on the horizon, thank goodness.
In the meantime I give myself permission to be sad and lonely, really sad and very lonely and know that this too will pass.

The rest of the trip to San Antonio...

For a while I was alone at Gate 14 with a couple of exceptions.  Finally another elderly woman was wheeled up beside me at the gate.  She was headed to San Antonio but was most distressed because she had lost her cell phone somewhere and wanted to know if there were any old fashioned pay phones anywhere in the airport.  Beats me!  When did I last see a pay phone anywhere?  She needed to be able to call her caregiver who was waiting in the cell phone parking lat at the San Antonio airport for her arrival.  I told her she was welcome to use my phone but she couldn’t remember the number.  We chatted a bit as all the seats around us began to fill and about six families with small children and babies gathered for the pre-boarding to Oklahoma City.  And that doesn’t count the three other wheel chair occupants that had gotten in line.  My next chair neighbor had a metal walker hanging on the side of her chair and she got up to search for a phone asking me to make sure that no one took her wheel chair.  So now I’m a wheelchair monitor who is beginning to get really hungry and wants to pee.  The pre-boards go down followed by columns A and B.  This time a good looking pilot comes and offers to wheel me down.  I told him only if he were going to Cabo and buying the drinks.  “I’m not interested in Oklahoma City.”  My next chair neighbor returns and seems a little less distraught.  The surrounding seats are empty again, it’s an hour til my flight and the gate checker person has gone…a good time to sneak off to the restroom leaving my unwheeled wheelchair by the gate in hopes that it will still be there when I get back.  My next chair buddy was gone again.  I made it to the restroom and even risked a trip to the Starbuck’s kiosk for a skinny vanilla latte and a chocolate croissant.  Geezus, but that was the best coffee and croissant ever.  No gate keeper even knew I had escaped on able and willing legs.  And my chair was still there.  My neighbor returned and even offered to throw away my trash on her next trip away from the gate with her walker as long as I saved her chair.

Finally at 2:05 we began boarding for the flight to San Antonio.  I was gratefully rolled down, assisted into the plane and seated.  A completely full flight as I think they all are these days and we were off.  Oh thank God!  Another adventure coming to a close.  Life is indeed a cosmic joke.

The "old lady" card is played without remorse

I am so tired I can hardly keep my eyes open.  I think every family west of the Mississippi was flying Southwest today going either in or out of Dallas and San Antonio.  Perhaps it should be expected the day after July 4 but what mad houses.  I left the hotel at 10:00 am after being picked up by my daughter and finally dragged my suitcase in my apartment at 4:00.  The actual flight was forty-five minutes.  With little or no indication on the Internet my flight was cancelled and I was put on a later flight which meant at least 4 hours in the airport.  Four hours without a book or anything to write on.  And I couldn’t move!  Why? you may ask.

I have learned to play the “old lady” card at airports and pre-order a wheel chair for transportation.  Well, airport wheel chairs are not regular wheel chairs.  The only wheels are on the bottom.  They are designed to be pushed by an airport employee who does nothing else but push handicapped and old people around the airport.  My past experience has been nothing but pleasant and I have met some interesting immigrants grateful for the job of pushing me to a gate or to baggage claim.  They have asked questions like “Do you want to stop at the restroom?  Do you need to stop for a drink or a bit to eat?”  But not so much on a busy post holiday crowd.  The more chairs pushed, the more money in tips. 

So today I get pushed to the gate with no offers to stop and abandoned there.  It is there I look at my boarding pass and snapped to the fact that I’m not arriving in San Antonio at 1:53.  I’m not even leaving Dallas until 2:05 and on a different flight.   Flight 20 was cancelled due to a thunderstorm somewhere.  So here I am at Gate 14 in a wheel chair without side wheels that I can push forward or backward or anywhere at all..  Hmmm…no breakfast and not much hope for lunch.  If I get up and walk to a kiosk, will I lose my pre-board status?  My wheel chair? Not a pleasant thought on Southwest as boarding is like cattle lined up fighting for a place at the trough.  So I stay.

Passengers are seated all around me and I am in the row of wheel chair residents waiting to board.  Behind us are all the other pre-board folk with various excuses to warrant their position.  To my left is column A holding all those who paid extra to board early.  And by the way, when I called Southwest to get the wheelchair, I was told I didn’t need to pay for early boarding anymore.  The operator also offered to make the wheel chair a permanent arrangement for whenever I wanted to fly Southwest.  Pride made me decline the offer.

An announcement is made that the pilot had finally arrived and they would begin boarding the flight to New Orleans.  The wheel chairs were pushed down the gangway, pre-boarders with kids began pushing strollers toward the plane and the old lady behind me got up to make her way to the plane.  I sat watching the parade.  A column marched forward, followed by B.  A young woman seated behind me leaned over and said, “I will push you to the plane.  They are loading now.”  “No, no,” I explained.  “I’m not going to New Orleans.”  Then a pilot in uniform offers to take me.  I decline the flight explaining that as tempting as a few days drinking on Bourbon St. was tempting, my ticket said I should end up in San Antonio.

Life at the funny farm....

Am I crazy or what?  Okay, today I am pissed but be prepared.  It's a long story.  Don't get me wrong!
 I love my new apartment in Watercrest at the Dominion in San Antonio, small, yes, but it is working.  I love the location.  I'm on the top floor facing the hills and freeway.  Each morning I am able to greet the sunrise coming over the opposite hills and see the clouds turn pink at sunset.  I am close to all kinds of shopping and have found good doctors, some I can drive to myself, others, my kind daughter-in-law steps in to drive me.  And have found the best dentist I have had ever.  I have made some friends in other residents whom I enjoy and we have a lot of laughs.  And I get to hang out with my son and his family.

BUT management here is driving me crazy!  I just can't keep my mouth shut about it.  I'm finding some residents are afraid to speak up...why, I don't know and think it must be a cultural thing.  Right away I discovered there was NO residents association here and that even the suggestion of one had been discouraged at first by the director.  But a group of us got together and formed one anyway.  I helped form the simple by-laws and was elected Vice-President at our first get together.  The purpose of the group is to be a sounding board for residents like a homeowners association and to help mediate complaints, help new residents, suggest wants and desires and sooth ruffled feathers.  As yet we have not had an official meeting as the Residents Council but the board has gotten together to handle some issues that have come up.  According to the by-laws our meetings are every other month, the first one coming up in August.  And we are pleased that several of our requests have been honored by management and we are grateful that we were heard.

We have several resident couples who have a spouse who is unable to totally care for themselves and depend on their spouse as a caregiver.  Had Ken lived we would have been one of them.  Breakfast here is included in our rent...three days a week it is a continental breakfast, Tuesdays and Thursdays bacon and eggs are served.  Several of these couples depend on a family member coming to the dining room to pick up breakfast and take it back to their loved one.  A few weeks ago a caregiver showed up as usual to do just this and was told by kitchen staff absolutely no breakfasts were to be taken out.  No warning, no explanation, just an edict from above.   It seems as though a resident was coming in a filling up a box with enough food to last for several days leaving less food available for other residents.  We agree not a nice thing to do.  The board received letters from three couples regarding this new rule explaining what a hardship it had created for them and that the director was not willing to give a solution at the time.  Some of the affected couples are afraid to speak up so brought the issue to the board after not getting any satisfaction from the director.  The board brought the matter up at a Town Hall meeting led by the director and she apologized for the way it was handled and offered an explanation and a solution...a staff person would fill the box.  So for a week or two it seemed the issue was taken care of but today the rule was in force again much to the distress of several residents who were refused breakfast to go.

But the boss of the boss was on campus today and our president of the RC managed to engage him in conversation over the issue at the lunch table.  He knew nothing about the breakfast issue and left the table with the residents present feeling assured that he felt it ridiculous and would be rectified.

Fast forward to an RC board meeting this afternoon:  We were reporting in on progress and setting the day and time for the first official meeting of the Residents Council , of which all residents are members and welcome.  We set the date and asked the Activity Director to put it on the calendar for August.  She has to clear everything with the director and reported back that we could not have a spot on the printed calendar.  What the +&$%#@?  Why?  The only reason we can come up with is that she is pissed that we discussed the problem with her boss.  What is the fear there?  I'm baffled and pissed that we get no support for these efforts.  Other retirement communities have organized regular meetings of residents by and for residents.  So we will post flyers and put them in mail cubbies which we would do anyway.  But why the opposition?

I've had enough drama in my life the last few months to last me a long time.  I give up and plan to take a back seat for a while. I'm going to bed after watching some totally stupid mindless TV.  New crown on a molar today and teeth cleaning tomorrow.  Oh goody!

Oh what a tangled web we weave!

The new story....

So now the story is about a recovering caregiver and what to do with one's life post care-giving.

The birthday party went off without a hitch or if there was one, I didn't notice.  Sister-in-law Sue and I greeted friends and relatives at my son's beautiful home.  My daughter-in-law Karen had done a great job of arranging for some great barbecue and a gorgeous birthday cake.  It could only have been better if Ken had been there and I think he was in spirit.  My daughters and granddaughter came from Conroe and friends and family came from all over.  My crazy Artist Way sisters came with pink pussy hats, of course.  I felt honored and celebrated beyond my wildest dreams.  But oh so tired!

Before the party I went back to Watercrest to make new plans.  By now I had an idea of what I could afford and needed a one bedroom apartment.  I located a large one on the top floor with a view and a storage room right down the hall and parking nearby.  Then it was  back to Houston with my in-laws.  We had hoped to get a tour in of Watercrest in San Antonio before I left but no one was available to do it.  Back in Houston I fell into bed and slept for a couple of days.  Marylynne of Comfort Moves came back to meet with me and go over the new floor plan.  It was clear there would be more downsizing!  It was all so overwhelming!  Hard to know where to begin.

As my daughter and I went through Ken's papers we discovered that somehow he had saved all the right stuff, the important papers.  Amazing that he condensed them into one box but he did.  Then it was clearing out more stuff.  The hardest was Ken's closet.  I still miss his smell.  I hated letting go of most of his clothes but at our son's request, saved a few favorites for him.  Out went some furniture, some went on the truck to go to the condo in Austin where my granddaughter will live while at UT, the rest to Watercrest at the Dominion, 10 minutes from my son's house.  I left Comfort Moves in charge and left for San Antonio.  The movers came on the 29th of March, the unpackers the following days and I finally slept in my own bed in my new place on the 31rst of March.

How does one say goodbye?

Obviously the event is a game changer.
First agenda:  Postpone the move!  A call to Watercrest and Comfort Moves takes care of that.
2. Thank God son Chris is staying the week and we make plans for the memorial service at Bay Area Unitarian/Universalist Church and set up a meeting with Bruce Beisner, our minister.  Both of us had set up for our bodies to be donated to UTMB which turned out to be a wonderful service.  They picked up his body at the hospital, will cremate it when done and Chris asked that the ashes be returned to him.  So no casket, etc to deal with which makes planning so much easier.  The service is planned for Saturday March 4 at 2:00 pm.  I asked Tom Diegelman to speak about Ken's career at NASA and he agreed and did a wonderful job.  Chris worked hard on creating a eulogy and did an excellent picture of his dad.  I sent by email word of He-Who's passing to the NASA Alumnae League and put memorial info on Facebook.
I thought I was doing pretty well but Wednesday night about midnight I woke Chris up because my heart was racing again.  Damn!  He called 911 and the EMTs came.  They asked if I wanted to go to the hospital and with one look at Chris, I agreed.  He followed in his car and off we went to St. Luke's ER.  After an EKG and a test on my lungs, the doc gave me a Valium which made me pretty loopy but slowed my heart down.  Sinus tachycardia again!  Finally I was sent home with a prescription for Xanax.  Geez...let's just add a little more drama to the week.
The whole week was a blur but at last it was Saturday.  We borrowed a wheel chair for me to use as between the heart stuff and the recent hip surgery I wasn't steady on my feet.  Embarassing but I did it.  The service was just beautiful and the church packed.  So many people came to tell me how much they cared for Ken, the kind things that he had done for them.  He was a humble kind soul and accomplished so much.  Tom talked about the fact that Ken's program design was what brought the Apollo 13 crew back home safely saving the lives of the crew. Astronaut Fred Haise was at the service.  My unsung hero!  And Chris brought forth the tender caring Dad who loved his kids more than anything.  Bruce included a couple of my poems in the service, one about Alzheimers and one on grief.
It all went way too fast.
The church provided a reception and I was in such a fog by then, I barely remember much about it other than an all too brief greeting with my cousins who came from Dallas and Georgetown.  I was astonished they made the trip and wished we had more time together.
And then it was all over and the family took me home.  Chris had to be exhausted.  He had done so much the previous week contacting the insurance company, the Office of Personnel Management, Fidelity, etc.  The decision was made to go ahead with the big birthday party the following weekend and I packed and went home with Chris to San Antonio where I slept for the first three days and rested.

And this is how the story ends...

Monday morning the doctor calls.  They took He-Who to x-ray to check again for pneumonia and he went into cardiac arrest.  They resusitated him and he is in ICU on a ventilator.  Chris is there, Keith and Sue are there and I'm home throwing up.  I don't see how I can get there.  The doc tells Sue to come and get me sick or no and she did.
At the hospital now are Karen, Nancy, Taylor and her boyfriend, Lance, Chris, Keith and Sue.  They got me a wheel chair and into ICU I go.  It is clear He-Who is unresponsive.  His eyes are closed and he doesn't respond when I squeeze his hand.  I am in shock...how can this be?  It is all wrong!  I tell him I love him close to his ear and pray he can hear me.  No deep breaths even with the ventilator.  We say our goodbyes and I leave the room.  The nurse brings me the papers to sign to take him off the ventilator.  It is clear that his quality of life will never be good and it is the right thing to do but so hard.  I lay down for a while in the waiting room, then go back in to say goodbye again.  The daughters say goodbye, Karen adding "Geez, Dad, if you didn't want to move, you coulda just said so."  Chris will stay until the end but sobbing I head out the door.  Keith and Sue take me home.
I don't know how to do this!  I've never been a widow!  What am supposed to do?  I think I am too sick to stay but it is so hard to leave, so hard to say goodbye.  I love you!  I love you!