What We Live For In a World Without Do-Overs ...

Call it what you like.  Fate, providence or destiny.  I prefer serendipity - those times when life events come together to declare the world is as it should be.  So often, daily occurrences seem to have no rhyme or reason.  Give me something to make sense of my world. Serendipity does.  It provides comfort to my soul, and compares to the feeling I get when wrapped in the warm embrace of someone I love. 

I experienced a serendipitous few days when three seemingly unrelated events occurred this past week:  the distribution of my son’s high school yearbook; an article about regrets, and a funeral.  If each event had happened independent of the others, their impact on my life would not have been as significant as all three happening within a very short time frame. 

It may be easy to surmise why an article about regrets relates to a funeral, but what about the yearbook?  Yearbooks commemorate the past school year, generally covering a wide range of topics including academics, student life, sports and other major school events.  Oftentimes, they also include, much to the chagrin of this former yearbook editor, a section for those who were voted “class celebrities” by their peers.  This section includes photos of those most likely to succeed, cutest couple, class clowns, most spirited, etc. I have always had a problem with featuring the mock election results because I think a yearbook should represent all students, not highlight the popular few.

In this case, the yearbook staff understood that and nailed it. While they included the results of the mock election inside, on the cover, in red overlay are the words What We Live For.  At first, I thought it was a stock cover they ordered from the publisher.  Not so.  The words and phrases peeking out from beneath the over-lay were actual student responses when asked what they live for.  Learning this, I spent a half hour reading the cover before I even cracked open the book.   Sometimes younger folks provide profound moral insight beyond their years. This is one of those times.

Of course, every sport imaginable was there, as were many simple things that provide daily pleasure.  Things like peanut butter and jelly, French silk pie, coffee, dogs, cats, fashion, music, late summer walks, laughter and popcorn.  Some responses, however, were much deeper. They were notions such as faith, the greater good, being as happy as I can be, love, my family, my passions, a friend’s smile and my dreams.  Then there was one that jumped off the page at me, living life with no regrets.  Didn’t I just read something about that?  I did.

In her book Regrets of the Dying, Bronnie Ware, a long-time palliative care professional, writes about the common themes that surface when the dying speak of their regrets.   In her blog (www.inspirationandchai.com), Ware lists the five most common do-overs people would choose if they had a chance.  They are:  to have the courage to live a life true to myself, not what others expected of me; to not work so hard; to have the courage to express my feelings; to have stayed in touch with my friends and, to let myself be happier. 

Ware said the most common regret of all was not living a life true to one’s self, and the realization that it all came down to the choices they had made.  Choice.  Did I mention that was on the cover too?

A few days ago, I attended the funeral of a friend’s father, a man I barely knew.  The eulogy was delivered by his pastor, a man who knew him well.  The pastor spoke of the choices the man had made throughout his life.  Good choices.  Choices a man would never regret.  Absolute love and devotion to his soul mate – a woman he was married to for almost 60 years – and his children, as well as their families and spouses.    He surrounded himself with friends, as was evident by the number of older men in attendance.  He was a man of faith and remained true to it until his final breath.  Indicative of his belief in serving the greater good, he received veteran’s honors at his funeral.  One of the man’s most significant traits was his genuine display of happiness. He smiled all the time.

Feeling the serendipity yet?   We know what we live for.  Some of us even have the luxury of having it printed on a book cover for perpetuity.  The key is making the choice to remain true to ourselves.  High school students take heed.  May you rest in peace Charlie.  You showed us how to do it right.  

Copyright 2013 Carol M.W. Bagazinski.  All rights reserved.

The Way You Play It

Life is like a game of cards.  The hand that is dealt you represents determinism; the way you play it is free will.

Jawaharal Nehru,

Former Prime Minister of India

Casually tossing the stack of mail on the seat beside me, I continued on with my day unaware of the personal letter lumped in with the invoices, sales pitches and bank statements which usually await me at the post office.  Later that evening, getting back to business after dinner was served, the table cleared and the dishwasher loaded, I returned to my desk to review my next day’s agenda and sort through the mail I picked up earlier. 

It was only then that I noticed the hand-addressed envelope.  The words it contained were simple and sweet, but powerful enough to settle the unsettled feeling I had been dragging around with me for weeks. 

She teaches me and I really enjoy her company were among the written words, but it was what was written between the lines that made me feel so much better.  Written there, in invisible ink, but large bold-face type, was a message reconfirming there is always meaning and purpose to human life no matter what a causal observer may think. Thank you, Ashley.  I knew it was there, I just needed a short, straight-forward example to wrap my mind around …  She teaches me and I really enjoy her company.

About a month earlier, while making idle chitchat with another visitor at the memory care unit, the woman with whom I was conversing  unexpectedly blurted out, “I would rather take a bullet to the head, than land up like this.” Given that we were in the company of a half dozen dementia patients, her comment was inappropriate and insensitive.  Most would agree, her comment would be inappropriate and insensitive no matter what the setting.  As I gathered my belongings and prepared to quickly move Maggie down the hall, I suggested to Chatty Cathy that nobody wishes to suffer from dementia, and perhaps she should choose her words more carefully.

I confess I don’t have much of a poker face, and although I tried to hide my irritation brought on by the insensitive comment, Maggie picked up on it.  She suffers from advanced dementia and usually doesn’t seem to comprehend most conversations.  Sometimes though, she surprises me with a spot-on interpretation of what is going on around her.  A few minutes passed and as we settled into a quiet corner to watch the birds feed outside the window, she said, “Well, my dad always told me, we’ve got to make the best of it.”  She is fond of common sayings, and I have heard her repeat this one many times before.  Never in such an appropriate situation though.  I wasn’t certain whether she was directing her comment at my mood, or addressing the careless words of the other visitor.    Maybe neither.  I couldn’t be sure.  Just as I did the other times she said this, I replied, “Sometimes, that’s all we can do.”

Copyright 2012 Carol M.W. Bagazinski.  All rights reserved.

Home Sweet Home?

Years ago, I participated in a funeral procession that drove to and paused in front of the deceased man’s home before continuing on to his final resting place at a nearby cemetery.  I was told this was customary to his family heritage.  The tradition honored all he had worked for throughout his life – his home.  It was a safe haven for his children while they were young, and for him and his wife in their old age.   Both he and his wife died in that house. 

Living and dying are different now.  In earlier times, people who were lucky enough to live well into old age, got sick and died rather quickly from a stroke, cancer or heart attack.  Not so much anymore.  Medical advances are keeping people alive much longer, and as a result, we are often living with a number of disabilities. 

As we age, our sight and hearing abilities diminish, arthritis limits our mobility, cognitive disorders impair our minds and the list goes on.  As Claire Berman put it in her book, Caring for Yourself While Caring for Your Aging Parents, (Henry Holt and Company, LLC 2006) “Nowadays, we lose our parents bit by bit.”  For many, it is not plausible to age in place, or in other words, to remain in their longtime home until they die.  This does not mean, however, they have any intention of leaving it before that happens.  Most of us have heard an older person exclaim, “The only way I’m leaving here is feet first!” 

As life expectancy increases, more of us struggle with caring for our aging parents while trying to maintain the fragile balance of life’s other obligations.  Difficult economic times are forcing many to consider just how much time can be spent away from their jobs.  During recent months, I have heard from two men, both without siblings, who lost their jobs as a result of spending long hours tending to the needs of their elderly parents.  Both sets of parents were determined to remain in their own home, but had not developed nor put into action a plan outlining how they intended to do that.  Time moved on and one day they found themselves engulfed in a world of chaos brought on by old age and illness.  The situation worsened when financial problems emerged as life savings were quickly depleted by medical bills.

Aging in Place is possible for some, but requires a bit of good fortune relating to one’s health, and extensive and realistic planning for support services.  Access to specialized services such as transportation, home health care, non-medical home care and home updates and maintenance is critical to remaining comfortable and safe.  Of course, even with the best laid plans, life situations can change in an instant. 

There may come a time when “accepting an alternative lifestyle” takes on new meaning for your parents.  For any number of reasons, their home may no longer be suitable for their changing needs, and it will become necessary to secure other living arrangements.  This could mean moving in with you or another family member, or residing at an assisted living facility.  Take time to consider and learn about the various options.  Hospital social workers can help locate available beds for a discharged patient in need of ongoing nursing care or rehabilitation services.  However, space is sometimes unavailable at the more desirable facilities, thus forcing them to place the patient in a facility with a less than stellar service rating.  Public and private ratings of nursing homes are available for review.  Familiarize yourself with alternative living options before they may become necessary.   At least you will know what to expect if you find yourself facing this situation.

Also, don’t be blindsided by financial problems as they relate to your parents’ living arrangements.     Encourage them to seek professional advice to protect their assets.  Financial planners, accountants and attorneys can be of tremendous assistance in helping them to manage their financial resources, including Medicare and Medicaid information.  There are also many services available, such as the Area Agency on Aging which can offer assistance as well. 

Oftentimes, in an effort to preserve their independence and privacy, the elderly resist assistance offered family members.  Keep trying.  Tread carefully and be respectful, but remain persistent.  In the meantime, gather as much information as you can.  Developing a plan of action may be hard work, but is much easier than crisis management.  One day, it may even save your job. 

Copyright 2012 Carol M.W. Bagazinski All rights reserved.

Priceless Giving ...

Although they weren’t clad in matching flashy ensembles, the Motown choreography was unmistakable.  David Ruffin, who sang lead for My Girl, must have been smiling down from Heaven, content this time to be singing back-up from a small radio in the community room of a memory care facility.  An elderly man who holds a PhD in physics, and who more closely resembles the late children’s program host Mr. Rogers than one of the Temptations, was sharing the song, a dance and pure bliss with a young African-American woman who according to statistics, earns less than 65 percent of an average U.S. worker's salary. 

Just a few minutes earlier, the elderly man had to be physically restrained by two male attendants to keep him out of harm’s way.  In an effort to calm him, the quick thinking aide flipped on some music, moved a few chairs, and took him to a happy place just a couple steps away.  Each day, the aide and others like her, offer kindness and consideration to those they serve, often returning distressed residents to a state of mental calm and serenity.   Their actions, though treasured gifts, often go unrecognized.    

Last month, U.S. consumers spent $52.4 billion shopping at malls and on-line during the Thanksgiving weekend preparing for Christmas.   I wasn’t among them.  Crowds aren’t my thing.  Besides, I’ve been trying to think outside the box, or shopping bag as the case may be, in terms of holiday gift giving this year.  This may come as unwelcome news to my 12 year-old son who has been requesting an “X Box” game system for the past six months.  To him, thinking outside the box is seemingly an impossible task, not just an idiom describing a more creative approach to problem solving.  While he is very vocal about exactly what it is his heart desires, most who share my world are not. 

Still, I remain hopeful that it will not come down to wandering aimlessly around department stores in search of random gifts during the next few weeks.  This year, I have been fortunate to witness many gift exchanges, such as the song and dance, that did not involve a paper receipt. While they might not have been pre-planned, there was nothing hit or miss about them.  I’m hoping they inspire me to be more creative with my offerings this holiday season.  Gifts given with nothing expected in return, but perhaps a few minutes of joy for the recipients who live their lives moment by moment as that is all their minds allow.  Gifts offered by caregivers, who indeed understand it is better to give, than to receive.  

Another day I arrived at the memory care unit noticing many of the female residents wearing beautiful scarves around their necks.   The scarves were all different – chiffon, silk, knitted – and few of them matched the accompanying outfits.  During lunch I overheard several of the residents, who rarely converse with one another, commenting on how lovely they all looked.  Knowing these women are not able to dress themselves, I inquired about their fancy attire.  The supervisor told me the aide who dressed them that morning tries to do something each day to make the residents in her care feel special.  That particular morning she decided it was pretty scarves.  Delightful inspiration:  doing something extra that makes someone feel special. 

A few months ago, a client who has Alzheimer’s disease required a hospital stay.   She was sick, alone and very frightened.  Knowing I could not be there around the clock as a parent might be with a small child, I picked up a teddy bear, a little ball that when squeezed changed colors, and a plastic slinky at the local dollar store.  I hoped these items would give her something to focus on, helping to keep her fears at bay.  As it turned out, I could have saved myself $2.12 because the teddy bear was the only thing that caught her interest.   The nurse was amazed by the change in her patient’s demeanor as she clutched the small bear and cheerfully chatted away at her new inanimate companion.  

The next morning I noticed the small dollar store bear was nowhere to be found.  In its place, however, was a much larger bear.  The same nurse from the day before walked in the room and said, “Oh, I hope you don’t mind, but the other bear must have been taken with the laundry so I ran down to the gift shop during my break and gave her this one.”  A medical professional who understands there’s so much more to making your patient feel better than pharmaceuticals.  What a gift!

Yes, I’ve learned a lot about gift giving during the past few months.  This year, amid all the holiday hoopla, I have added the following items to my Christmas shopping list:  kindness and consideration; doing something extra; and a small empathetic gesture.  They can’t be found at the local mall, but they will most likely be the most treasured presents I offer this season.  What do I want?  What more can I ask for?  I’ve got sunshine on a cloudy day …When it’s cold outside, I’ve got the month of May …

Copyright ©2011 by Carol M.W. Bagazinski – All Rights Reserved. 

Lessons of Compassion

Jerry, Noah and Michael with their grandmother in 2006.

“Give children at least as many chances to show compassion as they have to be competitive.

Erica Layman, Mother

I’m thinking it might have been divine intervention that caused lightening to strike our house a few days before school resumed this year.  The strike wiped out every electronic device we own.  At least all the cable connected items including, but not limited to, four televisions and three game systems.  It might have taken an act of God, but finally, well into the last week of summer vacation, with nothing else to divert his attention, my fourteen year-old decided it was probably time to start his reading assignments for AP Literature due on the first day of class.  For close to three days, he was glued to a book instead of a cable driven box, and for that, I was delighted. 

Given that the assigned reading was To Kill a Mockingbird, one of my favorites, only added to my pleasure.  The story teaches timeless lessons about developing and examining our own courage and compassion.   Valuable instruction we can all learn from, let alone teenagers striving to find their way in a very complex world.

Years before it actually happened, my husband and I made the decision that we would welcome my mother into our home when we/she thought it would be best to have around-the-clock care.   Not unlike other situations we face in life, the enormity of this decision came to light in many small ways during the year she lived with us.  Not surprisingly, it was a year that required great showings of courage and compassion by all involved.

Some of those moments were heart-wrenching .  Others unimaginable.   Many were tender and touching.  Watching someone you love decline on a daily basis, surrendering their independence is heart-wrenching.  Telling your mother that it is time to call hospice when clearly she does not want to die is unimaginable.   

Last week I celebrated yet another birthday.  Among the lessons I have learned as I try to comfortably ease into my own aging skin is that the most difficult times in life often create our most treasured memories.  The tender and touching moments of that year carried us through the heart-wrenching and unimaginable ones.   

Throughout the twelve months, I fretted about how having their grandmother live and die in the next room would affect my sons.  At times it seemed unfair.  The three of them had to share a bedroom.  They had to be quiet.  There were many school and sporting events I missed because “Grandma” needed me.  They often had to be home with her when my husband or I could not.  Then one day I realized the proverbial glass was not only half-full, it was over-flowing with lessons of love and compassion.  Lessons for me.  Taught by my children.

I watched as my oldest son, checked on her every evening, often fetching and sharing a piece of fruit as a late night snack for the two of them.  The youngest tidied her room on a daily basis.  Unbeknownst to me, he had been putting away her clean clothing, emptying the trash and gathering her laundry, as well as dusting and sweeping each day for several months.  I just assumed she had been taking care of such things herself until I started to gather her laundry one afternoon.  “Leave it there,” she told me, “That’s Michael’s job.”

Still, I worried about my middle son.   He is the loud and boisterous one who seemed to bear the brunt of many scoldings … “Noah, be quiet.  Noah, settle down.”   However, he also spent many touching moments with his grandmother.  A needlework expert, she taught him to knit and crochet.  Currently, he is working on a pair of fingerless gloves that transform into mittens to wear during a winter survival expedition he’s planning for when the snow flies.   He’s an Eagle Scout with a passion for high adventure.  I don’t think he’s come across a kid yet who is bold enough to tease him about knitting.   

Still, as her health failed, I became increasingly concerned that Noah seemed to be distancing himself from his grandmother, whereas, the other boys moved in closer.  Understanding that children, like adults, need to deal with grief on their own terms, I left it alone.  Little did I realize, once again I was clueless about some of the goings on in my small house.

Just a few days before her death, I thought I heard someone moving around in the middle of the night.    Softly creeping into my mother’s room to check on her, I found Noah sitting quietly in the darkness next to her bed.  Breaking the silence for only a moment, he said, “Mom, don’t worry about Grandma, I’ll keep her company until she can get back to sleep.”  It was a school night and although he didn’t say so, I knew it wasn’t the first time he sat with her during the night while the rest of us slept.

The image of that moment will forever rest upon my heart.  Just one small act of compassion among many others demonstrated by my children that carried me through a very tough time.   Valuable instruction we can all learn from.      

  Copyright 2011 by Carol M.W. Bagazinski – All rights reserved.  

Cause for Celebration, Not Cosmetic Procedures

Yesterday, I showed up at Maggie’s assisted living facility with my arms full of celebratory offerings.   A couple dozen cupcakes, a heart-shaped balloon, several cards, a few small gifts and a bouquet of flowers.  With the help of the activities director and a caregiver, we gathered as many folks as we had cupcakes, and cheerfully marked her 82^nd.birthday.  When asked how old she was, Maggie honestly replied she didn’t know, but added, “I don’t think it really matters.”   Some might think it was dementia speaking, I smiled, certain it was wisdom.  Then, upon being told she was born in 1929, she gasped and was visibly joyful as she considered the span of her years.  I had to choke back tears.

Just as we finished singing “Happy Birthday,” a few in the group started in with the Polish counterpart     Sto lat translated as “Happy 100 years to you.”  Talk about a group of optimists!  Wasn’t it enough we were celebrating an octogenarian’s birthday?   Now they were wishing her close to twenty more.  In Poland, sto lat is also suitable for other celebrations, not just birthdays.

The moment was in stark contrast to one earlier this week, when a friend who is still a few years away from 50, told me she just received an invitation to join AARP.   She asked, “Isn’t that an organization for senior citizens?”  As the mother of a 10 year-old child, she was appalled that an association for “old” people would contact her regarding membership.  I assured her they start recruiting members a few years before eligibility, and recalled feeling the same way when I received my invitation from the group.

Society certainly sends us mixed messages about growing old.  A while back, I thumbed through a senior living supplement to my local newspaper.  It was well written, and full of informative articles directed at the ever increasing number of aging “boomers.”

Most stories covered what one would expect; medical updates, hearing loss, diabetes and so on.   Somewhere near the middle of the tabloid, a two-page spread caught my attention.  Nestled among advertisements for mobility scooters, Medicare health plans and walk-in bath tubs, was an article on anti-ageing (their spelling) or cosmetic procedures.  Huh?  Facelifts! 

The writer explained how both men and women in the over 55 crowd are turning to surgical and non-surgical procedures, not as a way to boost their own self-image, but instead, as a measure to keep them competitive in today’s workforce.   Most employed people in this economy understand competitive means you get to keep your job.  Cosmetic procedures can lead to career success was clearly the message of the article.  What happened to hard work, keeping your mouth shut, and finishing your task before the end of the day?

As a woman of a certain age, I must confess I have stood in front of a mirror studying my face while gently pulling up on the skin near my hairline, and woefully wondering what gravity has yet in store for me.  To date, I haven’t considered any procedures, medical or otherwise, to restore a more youthful look.  However, given my current career of choice, perhaps I’ve been fooled into a false sense of job security.  Are others my age seriously thinking about eye-lid surgery, facelifts and fat injections?  (Yes, I had to read that one twice!)  The non-surgical procedures sounded even more frightening – laser resurfacing, botox and fillers.  All things considered, these treatments sound like they might be better suited for construction crews trying to keep our roads in good repair during the orange barrel months.

With my anxiety building to the point just short of a full-blown panic attack, I was relieved upon turning the page to learn about the power of optimism, and how it relates to good health.  A full two-page spread, no advertisements, six-photos of happy faces and a much needed editorial dousing of good ol’ common sense.   This article’s message was also clear.  A better quality of life results from living with optimism as your guide.  The optimistic person generally copes better with stress leading to improved health.    Improved health means less visible signs of growing older.   

Sounds like the best anti-ageing plan that I’ve read about in a while.   Sto lat!

Copyright ©2011 by Carol M.W. Bagazinski – All Rights Reserved.

Finding What We Seek

I find it interesting how an offhanded remark can revisit my mind for years, while a discussion of much more importance can quickly vanish from it, seemingly without a trace. Years ago, while I was attending a classy evening affair featuring cocktails, dinner and dancing, one of several young women sitting at my table jokingly announced, “That will be us one day.”   She said it while observing two much older ladies delightfully enjoying a waltz with one another on the dance floor.  You get the visual:  the young women were stylish, coiffed and escorted by handsome men donned in tuxedos.  The older ones?   Not.  The comment haunted me for several decades.   

For years, I worried.  Would that, indeed, be me one day?  Gray hair, wrinkled skin, sagging bosom, nylon stockings rolled just above the knee so that bare skin shows when my dress rides up and gets stuck in the waistband of my underpants.   Perhaps it was the part about the men, or lack thereof that got to me the most.  It could have been the older women just gave up on asking their husbands to accompany them, but chances are there simply were no men around with whom they might dance.  Mortality statistics tell us that men die earlier than women, and the gender imbalance increases with age.  Working among the 65+ crowd, I see it every day.  A woman facing life alone following the death of her husband.  In itself, that is not astonishing.  The grace with which many of them do so is. 

 

Psychological studies show happiness is not a product of the events in our lives, but of our response to those events.  It doesn’t matter if we’re wealthy, educated, young or old, single or married.  These studies tell us that happiness depends on facing life, no matter what comes at us, with a positive attitude. Smile a lot, remember the good things and enjoy the moment are among other prevailing strategies in almost all studies of happiness.  I found the generalized happiness information in the form of a pamphlet.  It was directed toward incoming freshmen at a university campus mental health fair.

Interestingly enough, many older ladies, especially the ones you might see dancing with one another, seem to get it, even without the benefit of a college education.  Some of them were children during the Great Depression and came of age during World War II.   For others who came later, it was the Korean War.   Journalist Tom Brokaw, calls them in his book of the same name, “The Greatest Generation.”   They faced rough times, worked hard and lived productive lives.  Now, in their later years, they take time to smile, remember the good things and enjoy the moment, even if that means dancing with your “lady friend” as my grandmother was in the habit of saying.   I see a lot of that these days.  Ladies who can barely stand without a cane, patiently waiting their turn to dance with the female activities director at the assisted living center.  She prefers they dance with her, rather than each other to offset the likelihood of someone taking a tumble.    

Cheek to Cheek was written by Irving Berlin for the 1935 film classic Top Hat featuring the dancing team of Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers.   In attempting to win her heart, Fred’s character croons to Ginger’s, “and I seem to find the happiness I seek … while we’re out together dancing … cheek to cheek.”  Perhaps that’s where the grace comes in, finding the happiness we seek wherever it might be. 

As I get older, I try to worry less about my autumn years, and pay more attention to the lessons I can learn from those who are already there.  At times, I even find myself making mental notes, remember not to act crabby like so and so, be pleasant like her sister  …  By the way, if you pass by me on the dance floor thirty years from now while I’m dancing with my lady friend, will you give the back of my dress a little yank?

Copyright © 2011 by Carol M.W. Bagazinski – All Rights Reserved.