More Sandwich

Why is it that important life events always seem to happen at once? It just seems to be the inevitable reality of the Sandwich Generation. Last time I wrote, there was a Drumline finals competition, a hospitalization and the need to find someone to stay with my mom. With family and a good support system, it happened.

A couple of months down the line, there has been another hospitalization for dad, that happened at the same time as events for my son again. He was a speaker for the Youth Sunday at Church, and graduated from High School three days after that. So, one of the things that has to happen as a Sandwich generation is thinking creatively. Dad was unable to make it to the church service, so we took it to him. Thank you, God, for technology! Skype is wonderful. So are great friends to help with the navigation. A friend took her laptop to the hospital and got it set up. I took my laptop to the church service, sitting in the front row. Upon learning that the sound wasn't good enough to hear, this same friend came back to the church, took my laptop into the sound booth and hooked it into the soundsystem. She then drove back to the hospital and made sure that Dad could hear it. She also was so thoughtful to video tape dad's responses to hearing his grandson state, "My future plan is to become one of those Cool Band Directors like my grandpa!" Priceless!!

Three days after this, was the graduation. Dad made it home the day before. We also learned that my mother in law had trouble with her knees on the plane. Creative thinking step 2. The reality of the grandparents being able to walk the 2 blocks to the ceremony, and navigating the steps at the bleachers, was not going to  happen!! Thus wheelchairs! We would need two more. I called Convalescent Aid Society, and reserved two more. So, while we looked like the wheelchair brigade, all were present to share in this special day for my son, and he was all smiles.

Since then, dad is stronger, we have had to put our dog of 12 years down, and now mom has had an upper respitory infection, additional weakness and hallucinations caused by one of her new medications.

In a discussion with my son a few nights ago, he said, " I don't mean to sound horrible, but it is so hard watching grandma wither away a little at a time. I almost wish she would just go." It isn't a matter of wanting her to die, as much as a realization that she has no quality of life. I am right there with my son. It is a difficult time, and there does come a time when quality of life is more important than quantity. It has been 8 years of her declining with her dementia. It is difficult for my dad to care for her, and deal with his own health issues. We are fast approaching a time when a decision will have to be made re: her care, either hiring someone to care for her at home or placing her, something we don't want to do.

But life in the Sandwich Generation is chock full of the need to think creatively, to use resources available to you through family, friends and the numerous resources in the local community. It is so important to do this, for the best care for the loved ones, but also your own self preservation. The other thing that is just part of the process is to refine the values of your life. Somehow as we deal with the different challenges that are inevitable, it has a way of forcing us to dig deep to ask those questions of what is truly the most important, and to have those conversations with our loved ones.

I am grateful that I have been here to care for my parents. And although I know it has been difficult for my son at times, I am also grateful that he has had some very important life lessons. He has been wonderful in his willingness to step in and help. He has a depth of character, a compassion and a wisdom about life that I believe are a direct result of his experience living with his grandparents. He is a better person for it. He has a bond with his grandfather especially, that will carry him for a lifetime. In the midst of some of the challenges, there have been more precious moments and memories that have come forth, that I will always be grateful for.

Sandwich

I am of the sandwich generation. I am both the caregiver of my elderly and dearly beloved parents, and a single mother of an amazing young man. And although, in most cases, both of these responsibilities fall into the "great joy" category and works very well in a nice rhythm of give and take, there are times when they collide, and where no matter what I do, I feel as if I am disappointing someone, or maybe myself, because I cannot clone myself and be two or three places at once.

This last couple of weeks has proven to be immensely challenging. My mom is at home with Dementia, and should not be left home alone. My dad had a health concern that took him to the ER, then admission to the hospital, for a condition that could have easily taken him from us. At the same time as this, my son, in his senior year of high school, had a competition for his drumline. I have been at almost every competition he has had for the last 6 years. Dad was at a place where he was ok, and I knew well taken care of in the hospital. Taking mom to the competition was out of the question, so I had to negotiate a caregiver for her, or miss the competition. Thank God, (literally), I have a supportive family and a supportive Church family, with people to call upon for assistance. In this case, family came forward, and offered to stay with my mom so I could be with my son, with my dad's blessing. My parents' church couples group also came forward and brought meals over to ease the burden of having to make meals as well. They have offered to come stay so I can get out as well.

I am a person who has always been a giver. I am a Pastor serving as a Full time Hospice Spiritual Counselor. I have been a pastor for 24 years, and the last 8 have been as Hospice Spiritual Counselor. Givers usually have a tough time being on the receiving end. We usually find it difficult to ask for help, preferring to "suffer in silence." For me, personally, it's hard to even define what I need, when someone asks what they can do. I don't know!! Stop the stressful situation? So often, it seems that the thing that would alleviate the stress are outside of our control to resolve. I am one, especially in my position within Hospice, educating the family members of the hospice patient to make sure to take care of themselves, to take time out, to get good rest, etc. It is often easier said, than done. I have to remind myself to take heed to the same advice.

So, I am on Family Medical leave, to ease some of the responsibility from work so I can take care of family. During that time we have hired someone to care for mom, who also helps with house work. Bless her. I am going to get a massage, and do some more writing, and napping, but also work on some needed projects that will ease some burdens as I return back to work.

Do I wish there was some opportunity for "Calgon take me away??" Oh yeahhhhh! Do I have that not so fleeting thought about winning the BIG Lottery so I could retire and live a life of leisure?? Oh Yeahhhhhhh! But most of all, I need to treat myself with the same compassion and gentleness that I do my hospice families. Self care is important. So I can be the best sandwich I can possibly be.

A Half Piece of Bacon

I am one of those truly blessed people who have parents who model an amazingly loving relationship. These two gentle spirited people met when they were 13, in the 7th grade. They went to the same parties, and had true feelings for each other. Some would have called it puppy love, but it is real to puppies. During the summer before 9th grade, dad's family moved to West LA, and mom came home crying that she would never see him again. Time went on, they both entered High School, were involved with year book, service organizations, music and sports at High School. WWII was on, dad went into the navy, and came home. He entered LA City College. He had remained friends with one of the guys in Jr High, who invited him to come in and double date for a night at the Paladium. Dad's friend was dating mom, casually. She got a friend of hers for dad. They met eyes, traded partners for one dance, and were back together again, forever this time. They went on to finish education, re-call to navy, beginning their family. . .

Now, married almost 62 years, very happily, they exemplify a love that is always mindful of the other, deferring to one another, in a very natural sort of way. It isn't in such a way that one always gives in. It is in the way that out of love for the other, they give. It is their joy to do so.

They have experienced difficulty, as most couples do in that long of marriage. The difficulties were financial, just in the way that they were middle class and so making the dollars stretch was often a challenge. They took care of their parents, had family difficulties with extended family, and worst of all, lost their son 10 years ago. But, where some couples turn on each other in difficulty, blaming the other, or becoming resentful, mom and dad never did. They continued deferring to the other, gladly sacrificing for the other or for the greater good.

Now, for the last 5 years, mom has had dementia. She no longer does any of the household chores, and sleeps a lot of the day. She has to be reminded to take her shower, she wouldn't remember taking her pills, so dad does it for her. She has gone through periods that have been difficult, in multiple hospitalizations, falls in the middle of the night, etc. Through it all, dad, at 84, continues to take care of of mom, even when it is beyond his ability to do. He tries to pick her up from the floor to get her back to bed. He will only ask for help if he's tried and cannot do it.

And this morning, on this Thanksgiving weekend, he made Waffles for the family while I made the bacon. We decided to go ahead and finish up the package of bacon, even though it would mean 3 of us would have 3 pieces of bacon, and one person would have 2. I put that thought out of my head, as I had decided to take the two pieces. But as we sat at the table, Dad said he had forgotten to get his bacon. I went back to the kitchen to get it for him, and there noticed 2 1/2 pieces of bacon. Looking at mom's plate, was the other 2 1/2 pieces.

This has to be the secret formula for a loving, happy, and wonderful marriage. It's so much more than the bacon, but an attitude of life. If everyone would do this, there would be no conflict in this world, and we would all be a lot happier.

Remembered

Today, a memorial service was given to remember and honor a man who lived in a park nearby for nearly 30 years, and died there. To some, he was thought of as a homeless man. But what we were reminded of today by Bill's brother was that he was not homeless. He chose to live in a home made of trees, grass, with no walls, or rooftop. Bill's father was there, and said, "I was so afraid that no one would remember Bill." But much to his surprise, about 100 people came to give tribute to Bill. And while it was mentioned that he was schizophrenic and bi-polar, although it was mentioned that he drank a lot, to self medicate, greater attributes were given. He was: intelligent, well read, artistic, very caring, deeply spiritual, kind, gentle, and a lover of Star Wars, calling himself Darth Vader. He loved music, would give blessings to those who expressed care for him with the words, "Vaya con Dios!" He gave hugs, and kisses, even while dancing back and forth, on the boulevard.

Bill was part Native American, and so his life was lived in areas throughout the foothills. He tried to live with his family but was not able to maintain living in a home. He taught us all many lessons. He taught us compassion, he taught us that although Bill was mentally ill, he was a son, a brother, a cousin, a friend. He taught us many things through his intellect. He blessed us with his artistic prowess and creativity.

But while Bill's family were afraid no one would remember Bill. Over 100 people came to honor him. Stories were told, tears were shed, the word was proclaimed, but more than anything, Bill was remembered, and Bill will be remembered, for a very long time.


"We Remember Them" By, Rabbi Simcha Kling


"At the rising of the sun and it's going down we remember them.
At the blowing of the wind and in the still of winter, we remember them.
At the opening of the buds and the rebirth of spring, we remember them.
At the blueness of the skies and in the warmth of summer, we remember them.
When we are lost and sick at heart, we remember them.
When we have decisions that are difficult to make, we remember them.
When we have achievements that are based on theirs, we remember them.
As long as we live, they too will live, for they are now a part of us, as we remember them."

Occupy

The people have finally arrived at the place where they are saying, "Enough!" They are making strong statements that are definitive; closing accounts at Bank of America because they are tired of the banksters charging us to use our own money. This is just one of many examples. Tired of the wealthy getting even more wealthy off the backs of the middle class and the poor. Tired of our jobs being moved overseas, and when we protest, we are called lazy? Hippies? Commies? It's almost laughable . . . if it weren't so sad.

And the millionaires, the billionaires, the public officials who have sold their souls to the Corporate dollar are afraid. It was so much easier when the people were complacent and although frustrated, not doing anything about it. As long as they had us cynical and complacent, they could continue. Not anymore. The movement is all over the US, and all over the world. And it is just gathering momentum.Some guy from a conservative organization was going around handing out bongs and one of his cohorts taking pictures. I am sure it will show up on FOX News, just so they can continue their propaganda that these protestors are lazy, drug addicted, socialists trying to take over the country. But the truth is, it is the sons and daughters of Joe America, who did it the right way: they got good grades, went to college, only to come out of school with those degrees to find no jobs for them. It is the thousands of people who worked hard, bought a home, were raising their families, paid their mortgages, only to either lose their job, through downsizing, lose their health insurance, lose their homes. Or, paying the mortgage on time, month after month, even keeping their jobs, only to find that all their neighbors lost theirs and went into foreclosure, leaving them owing more money than the home is now worth. The bottom has dropped out, in more than one direction, and the people are angry, justifiably so. While the middle class struggle, the banksters were bailed out in order that they would help the home owners, but instead paid themselves bonuses. And are now claiming to be the victims in this. Bullshit. The banksters, mortgage companies, title companies, and insurance companies have made huge profits, at every level of the process, they have received huge tax breaks, While the rest of us are just trying to hold on. And they wonder why people are in the streets. How do you spell "Greedy Sociopath?"

Our country is on the brink of losing it's soul. We used to be a country that believed in the motto written on the statue of Liberty, "Bring me your poor, your huddled masses" Now we are more likely to throw them under the bus, so the millionaires can get that tax break on the new jet they use to lobby the politicians. So the people engage in a peaceful assembly, acting on their constitutional rights to protest, and the police come out in riot gear. Did you not notice this is a peaceful protest? Did you not notice that the protestors are picking up their trash in the parks? Did you not notice the RN's setting up first aide stations, and volunteering their time to care for those who might need medical assistance? Oakland police bring tear gas, rubber bullets, and projectiles to throw at the protestors. Why? Because they are taking care of each other? They hold a few posters with important messages on them? You need rubber bullets for. . . what? A US Marine just returned home from Iraq, where he went to "Defend our country." He put his life on the line, returns home, goes to the protest peacefully, and gets shot by a rubber bullet from his own countrymen; those men/women who are there to "protect and serve." RIGHT. This young veteran is now in critical condition. REALLY?? Is this what he fought for? Are these the principles of the US now?

I hope the people remain in the streets, in front of the places of power, and that there are plenty around to remind our elected officials who put them there, and just who they are representing. I hope the crowds grow, that people take their money out of the big banks, because after all, voting with our feet and our pocketbooks is the best way to vote. I hope the regulations are replaced that were there to protect the people, and that the American Dream can return and the American Nightmare can depart, never to return again.

Olivia

She is 65, a mother of 4, and a wife of a man who has abused her most of their married life. She is dying of cancer, but in some ways she died years ago, as her soul was abused by one who said he loved her. Her family were all in the living room. Olivia sat on her bed, leaning against the wall, and her story unfolded. She looked me in the eye and said "Please pray for me that God will just take me. I want to die." She was speaking of her no longer wanting to struggle with the cancer that consumed her body, but also the pain of her home. She needed a place of peace. A place to find comfort, in a physical sense, but also in a spiritual sense. Ironically, her husband's erratic and abusive behavior had no hold on her anymore. She had already let go of any desire for life in this world.

We helped her get to a facility, where she could be peaceful, get rest, and be safe. She was there for a few days before her husband went to bring her back home, and he transferred her to another hospice, so we were unable to monitor her safety. I am assuming she is gone now. In some ways I hope she is. To have the ultimate peace, and end to her suffering. But I never got to say goodbye. Only in my heart. Be at peace, Olivia.

Mother's Day

She sat on the edge of her bed, and looked over at the family portraits taken for her 50th anniversary. I knew what was on her heart as she looked at the pictures. It was confirmed when she stood up and took the one of her son, Tom in her hands, and held it close in her lap. She carefully put it back on the dresser and went in to get dressed. She came out and sat in her favorite window seat when I greeted her and told her "Happy Mother's day." She said. "Thank you. . . and then looked at me and completing her sentence said, "I miss Tom today." As I looked over at my own son, I understood. I told her, "I am sure you do, Mom. I cannot even imagine the loss you must feel."

And this Mother's Day, as with every other, she thinks of her children, even though only one is still present with her. But he was her firstborn. That birth that changed her life forever. That first time she felt the power of loving this little one on her chest more than words could express. And the power of that kind of love doesn't lessen, because of death. . . in fact that love is only felt that much more intensely, as she feels his absence.