Lord help us!

Can I be honest? I mean really honest. Living with dementia is no fun. Living with someone who suffersfrom dementia, to be more accurate, although I often suffer from severe fuzz-brain-ness myself.

The precious mother-in-law is sinking deeper into a world where we cannot follow. Some days it - the beast of dementia- manifests itself as a little confused but cute and looking out at a world that is all sweetness and light. And then there is yesterday. Wow. I mean. Wow.

On days like yesterday there is no redirecting, no reasoning, no hugs or kind words that can stop the river of mean and ugly. And the thing we all know is, it's not her. It's not the mother and grandmother we all know and love. It's a disease that has attacked and betrayed her, and us along with it.

I've already asked forgiveness from my husband for the future actions of my demented mind. Should I be run down by the same beast, may you all remember me as I once was, and not as I may be if my body and/or mind becomes my enemy instead of my friend. Let's grab the moments now to hug and laugh and play so that we can face the future with the strength and courage that comes from a lifetime of love.

Miss you!

Hello, hello. Anybody out there? I've just been lollygagging around since last you heard from me. That's a weird term, don't you think. It's really a grandma kind of term, so I'm showing my advanced age. Although I am not (yet) a grandparent. No pressure kids. Seriously. Baby Gap never goes out of style, so all those darling little baby things I have stashed in the closet can wait. While you lollygag. While my friend Judy sends me her grandbaby picture of the week. Weekly.

I just looked up the definition of lollygag:

lol-ly-gag (lah-lee-gag)
verb - (used without object)
1) to spend time idly; loaf
2) to indulge in kisses, caresses; make love; neck
Origin 1860-65 Americanism, origin unknown


OK - seriously never heard of the second definition. I was actually referring to the first for myself, although the second definition certainly applies to the making of grandbabies. Oh chill out. I'm just kidding. You have to wait until I retire to produce grandbabies so I can babysit.


I started this post out planning to provide you with a list of all the things I've been doing instead of blogging. Somehow I got off track. There's a big surprise. So really, I can't remember how much I've told you. So I'm just gonna put it in a list.

1. Mark has recovered nicely from losing his job by starting his own business. He's been crazy busy doing accounting/bookkeeping/software training and I couldn't be prouder. He even managed to squeeze a week in Florida into his schedule. He says he was working there and I have to believe him since he actually got paid. God is good. All the time. Anybody need a good accountant?


2. My day job has been non-stop, go-go-go and I've been teaching a couple of classes at a local university in the evenings.


3. And here's something really, really exciting. My sister and I started a non-profit. Call us crazy. We won't care because we already know this. We are scared, petrified, excited, breathless, tired. It's a long story, but you can get a glimpse of it here.

And here we are at Thanksgiving week. Give thanks, give thanks, give thanks. Because no matter what is going on in your life, there's always a little room for the giving of thanks. And grandbabies.

Swimming in a river of happy

Went for a walk. Prayed for endorphins. Isn't that what you're supposed to get from exercise? My actual prayer went something like...

Lord, please bring on the endorphins. Pour a bucket of endorphins over me.
I want to drink a couple of gallons of happy juice. I want to sink into a tub
filled with endorphins, to slide underneath the surface and be immersed. I want
to rub endorphins all over me like I used to apply baby oil to get a tan while
sizzling in the sun during teenage summers. I want to roll in it like a pile of
these leaves that are falling from the trees. Bring it on, Lord. Bring it on!

Now I'm back home and watching Oprah. She's interviewing the police officers who shot down the killer at Ft. Hood. And now she's talking to the lady who had her face eaten off by a chimp. So jeeze. Really. I have an amazing life and I'm grateful. No really. I felt that way BEFORE Oprah. But endorphins come in handy some days. That and chocolate. And a swift kick of reality.

Beautification Project

I thought my blog was looking pretty boring without any pretty pictures!