Dear Anne Lamott

 Dear Anne,

     Hi there from a devoted fan of you and your writing.  This is the obnoxious woman with the camera in the front row when you spoke in Houston.  If you will come back, I promise I will leave my camera at home...no, I can't do that but I will at least learn how to to turn off the flash and again I apologize for not knowing how before and being so annoying.
     Well, here's the deal...I would so love for you to write some more about loss.  I'm 78 years old and beginning to think that is just about all being old is about and it is just damn painful.  That is, it is painful if you give a shit about anything or anyone and I do and refuse to give up caring.  It is the caring that keeps me afloat as I have always believed that God's purpose for all of us is for us to live into our potential and support others in doing the same.  But in that caring comes the potential for loss and it is accelerated by aging.
      And it is constant when you live in a retirement community.  The good news is that while one is losing one's quick step, hearing, and one's vision dims, so are one's neighbors.  But along with that is other physical and mental problems that are more serious.  Eventually a friend or neighbor can no longer live independently and leaves.  An ambulance drives up on a regular basis...one day three were around.  The constant loss makes one hesitant to invest deeply in friends which is totally against my nature and another loss in a way.
     Add in one's own physical losses and the whole scene is rather painful and depressing.  No wonder so many elderly are on anti-depressants.  Surely there is a better answer.  Yes, I constantly remind myself of all the things I am grateful for...I'm not 78 in Katmandu picking through the pieces of my home to hold on to some semblance of the life I had before the quake....I am not living in a refugee tent outside of Yemen...I am not in California wondering if I will ever be able to water my grass.  I have so much to be grateful for but loss is always barking at my door.  I'm learning to deal with it and have found some other residents who are experiencing the same but it ain't easy.
    The greatest cure of course is to get off the Isle of the Blue Hairs occasionally.  The weekend in Colorado over Mother's Day without He-Who and being pampered by my niece and her partner were a huge spiritual lift for which I am so grateful to have them in my life.  And some retail therapy at the greatest shoe store in the country...Brown's Shoes in Ft. Collins...was once again wonderful.  I could become a shoeaholic if I lived there.  Such fun and funky shoes in narrow sizes!  And it snowed!
     Sunday we left the Isle and headed north to our daughter's in Conroe in their new apartment for a great lunch and a movie and a game of a new kind of Monopoly which was fun!
     This week I will drive us to San Antonio to go to a granddaughter's concert and hang out on the edge of the hill country and breathe deep.  I will be grateful that I can still drive and have such a great family.
      But dear Anne with such great wisdom and spiritual depth I would love to hear more from you about loss so if you don't have too much on your plate already, give it some thought.  I'm patient, no hurry.

With much admiration and appreciation,
Kay

Finding more meaning with Anne Lamott

Ah, from the front row of the Cathedral...Anne Lamott took my breath away.  Isn't that why we all write?  Paint?  All searching for meaning in our lives?  I think it could be said for all of us in the arts.  It is all about our search for meaning.  For me right now, I write to find some kind of meaning in this life I now have as a Care Partner.  From her book she questioned a friend about the meaning of the Newtown massacre....his answer:  "We don't know yet."  And I don't know yet either about that event, about the Typhoon in the Phillipines, about my small life as a Care Partner, mother, grandmother, great grandmother.

So what do I know?  I am learning patience in a way I never thought I could.  I am learning to find joy in the days when we laugh together, the squirrel eats from my hand, the crazy okra plant hangs on to the longest imaginable stem while putting out sprouts at the bottom, hubby's cheerful greeting every morning saying "I slept so good last night".
And I can seriously let go of  bins of gorgeous papers.  I delivered them to TAACCL yesterday to use in their fundraiser.  Gone but there is still more and I will get to it one drawer, one bin at a time and watch my life change as I find room for something new and wonderful.  And I will find new meaning in what life brings and will try my best to be present and authentic for it all.  That's all God really wants from any of us I believe and so does Anne Lamott.  And I will keep repeating this until I truly believe it.

Caring for the Care Partner

You are wondering why a picture of this book?  It just happens to be by my favorite author whom I am going to greet up close and personal this Wednesday when she arrives in Houston her usual nervous wreck to sign this wonderful book.  I hope to get more copies to give to everyone I know who struggles with life.  And who doesn't?  It life, right?  It doesn't come in neat, tidy little packages, only in moments, just moments, one at a time...sometimes they are tiny, full of joy, sometimes long hours of grief, sadness but Anne's point is that we must be authentic in all of them to find meaning in our lives.  To find meaning in our lives, we must really live into them.  It is what we have to work with so take it by the horns and wrestle and ride.  Damn, that's a big order and I'm not sure I have a saddle.

For me as a Care Partner (notice the capital letters...I deserve a title) of an spouse with Alzheimer's , it means learning to live into the moments of clarity, hold on to them as part of the life we know together.  And it also means fully accepting the feelings of frustration of my partner AND myself when expectations aren't met, communication breaks down.  It means making new priorities in my life, accepting the losses of time, place, energy and finding new ways to find joy...easier said than done.

One of my joys of retirement is the time to pursue long-held interessts with great abandon, mainly art and writing.  But now I find my time is needed in other ways so much so, that I must take a close look at what is most important.  Alzheimer's disease is sneaky.  It eats away slowly at the hours.  First for this Care Partner it was taking over the finances of the household and discovering I probably do a better job than hubby did.  Then is added instructions on how to turn on the TV or dealing with repairmen and so it goes and the clock is ticking.  Priorities, priorities it says.

And so here we are now facing a move.  It is with such mixed feelings letting go of years and years of art supplies and as a mixed media artist that means not only paint, brushes, paper and glue, the bones of collage but all the other stuff like buttons, tickets, maps, game pieces and a hugh collection of rubber stamps.  However, along with the sadness, comes a sense of relief.  I like to think I'm closing this door so that another may open.

But it is the time thing that gets a bit squeamish here.  How much time do I allow myself to do things just for me?  Go to poetry events? How much for hubby?  How much for church, community?  And what of all of that is the highest priority?  And that gets back to Anne Lamott, my first priority for the week.  I am going with a friend, I will get her to sign my book and I will come home elated having met one of my most favorite authors.  Why a favorite?  Because Anne Lamott addresses the realities of life with disconcerting honesty.  She puts out there for all of us to look at those big questions about life that can only be part of the Great Mystery.
So for all you Care Partners out there trying to find meaning in your life.  Read Stitches.  Even if you don't consider yourself a spiritual person, you can dig this.