A Duh Moment

When I worked in activities at a veterans' nursing home, there was one black fellow. He was probably in his early 80's and had grown up in the deep south. His "problem" was discussed at a care planning meeting one day. The "problem" was that sometimes he would raise such a ruckus when it was time to get his bath. By the way, this man had Alzheimer's disease and his memories were probably 30 to 40 years in the past. Lowly me, I spoke up and said, "Do you realize what would have happened to him 40 years ago if he had been caught naked in the same room with a white woman?" Duh was the expression on most of the faces, including social workers, R.N.s, etc. So, good idea! The black female nursing assistant and the men were to bathe him from then on. Well, guess what? He never threw another ruckus about it! Isn't it amazing what can happen when one stops to think a little bit.....

Beano

This is another one of my younger daughter's poems. My sister rescued a Shetland pony 30 years or so ago. She doesn't know how old he was when she got him.

To the little man, loved by many. Good pony.

ODE TO BEANO

Rescued from fate...welcomed

to love

Better than most...long were

your days

Learning to trust...

the hands that touched you

Grazing in peace...plenty

of hay

Darkness took you...yet peace

still remained

Kind hands kept you...long in

your days

The end comes to all...some

sooner than others

If not for your fall...still

would you be...

Grazing in peace, trusting the

hands

long in your days

Julie 9/13/05

My dog park experience

I had never been to a dog park. For obvious reasons. I don't have a dog and there are no dog parks nearby, at least no fenced ones where the dogs can run and do dog things freely. I spent a few days with my daughter who has recently acquired a dog. A really sweet dog. So we went to the dog park three days in a row. What a hoot! All the dogs had to run and greet every new arrival and had to escort each friend who was leaving. They had to inspect each person-thing that came in, just to make sure they were okay, I guess. They had to establish their dominance with each other, which was very interesting to watch. There were many breeds and mixes there, some very comical. A half golden/half Bassett was hilarious looking. Golden with a retriever's head and the body of a Bassett, tail of a retriever; legs of a Bassett. I can't describe all that was going on there...too much! But I think every community needs a fenced dog park with a place for the elderly and bored and lonely people to sit and watch. Of course, not inside where you get wallowed and drooled and licked. And where you find yourself petting three at a time. I got nailed by a couple of dogs running. One hit against my right leg. I didn't fall but it hurt. Seems okay now though. Go visit a dog park, just for fun, and stay out of the way.

Facing a Fear

I tolerate bugs and spiders and other creepy things pretty well. BUT, I find centipedes and green tomato worms quite disagreeable. I think the centipede thing comes from an experience on a farm one time when a guy forked up some loose hay in the barnyard. It seemed to me (a child of about 5 or 6) that there were hundreds of centipedes scurrying around underneath that hay. I don't know about the tomato worms except that they're made out of green juice. Did you ever throw one into a chicken pen and see the green juice squirt everywhere? Yep. That's it. Well, this summer I planted a few tomatoes in a tub. I looked at them one day and wondered why one of them looked so awful. While looking closely, I finally saw why. A big green tomato worm was clinging to a stem! At first I almost freaked out. Then I decided to look him over real close. Do you know that they have legs? When he was hanging on the bottom of a stem, I saw about 4 or 5 sets of bright yellow legs (not feet) curved around the stem. He also had eyes and a funny mouth with tiny teeth. Of course he had the hook and the "eyeballs" on the sides of his body. I looked at him every day for weeks. Then one day he was gone. Did he go do whatever they do this time of year, did a cat get him, did a bird get him? I have to admit I felt a little sorry he was gone. I don't think they are so disgusting after all!

Disrespect

Why does this blog thing rearrange my spacing in the poems? Has it no respect? I was told that once something is placed on a blog it becomes a published article. So those poems I put on this blog can't legally be published now? Only as a reprint I was told. Where is that information found? I hope I didn't give away my daughter's poems, though they're so personal who else could claim them, unless they know the people they're written about.

Grandma

Here is another poem written in November, 1997 by my younger daughter. It's about my Mom who died in February, 1998, on her 95th birthday.

GRANDMA
With tired blue eyes faded by years
She looks at her loved ones without any tears.

Though some have passed on most are still near
With children in tow on visits appear.

Does she remember the time when younger in years
She could come and go freely without any fears?

An independent woman ahead of her time
Her dreams and desires not to be realized?

Born in a day when women were meek
Her humor and boldness must have been very unique.

A house full of children and a household to keep,
Were her dreams just dreams out of her reach?

Could she have been a poet, her thoughts would flow;
Or a healer of sickness, a hero in war?

Does she wonder what if, and then shake her head,
Too late for what if, she’ll take what she had?

Fine children, hard times, history before her eyes.
From buggy to rocket, pigtails to gray.
Those blue eyes missed nothing, I’m sure, along the way.

So much love she still gives us.
So much strength to draw from.

I know her eyes are faded, but before you pass
Look closely at my grandma and see what I see;

A woman of secrets and great mysteries,
knowledge and questions;
answers untold all hidden down deep;
that spark gives them away
inside those tired blue eyes
under that wavy hair of gray.
Julie 11/97

The Break-up

A retired colonel resided on an Alzheimer's unit where I worked. He was early stage and knew something was wrong. He was so kind and courteous to everyone. A real gentleman. One day he asked if he could talk to me. I said yes and we went out into the courtyard. He sat us down in the gazebo and then he took hold of my hand. He started telling me that he knew something was wrong with him and that he had something he needed to take care of before he became unable to do so. We walked around the courtyard holding hands, while he talked softly. I soon realized that he was trying to break up with me! He was so gentle and apologetic and didn't want me to be hurt. I didn't use "reality orientation" with him because it would have embarrassed him beyond belief. I told him that I really respected him and his decision and said it was okay, that we could still be friends. He thanked me and he seemed extremely relieved. We walked a little more but we talked of other things and he never said another word about it. So, was he doing something that he hadn't been able to take care of because of his illness? Or was he reliving something from his past? Regardless, it was one of the strangest and sweetest incidents I had ever experienced working with dementia patients. I later got to share the Gospel with him and he prayed for salvation. (Had to be sneaky because I was on duty at a government facility. Thank God for that gazebo and the Gideon New Testament). He died of heart failure about three weeks later. God spared that good and dignified man the humility of the downward spiral he would soon encounter.