Friday, June 23, 2017

We Are Not Alone

When I walk my dog late at night, I always look at the sky. I’ve seen several mysterious lights. Some of them suddenly zoom across the sky, others disappear. What are those strange flying objects? Okay, a disclaimer—I do live close to Whiteman Air Force Base, and they do have some planes that look like they belong in a sci-fi movie.

According to an article I read in the newspaper recently, NASA is on a planet hunting mission. They have determined that ten new planets exist that have the potential to support life. They are in a galaxy far, far away, but the possibility exists that beings may be trying to contact us.

How many people believe our planet has been visited by “men in black” is somewhere between 25% and 45%, depending on the source. So, if you’ve seen something inexplicable, you are not alone.

Other than visitors from other worlds, we may sometimes feel alone. It seems we can live “down the road” from a close relative and seldom see them. We live in a world where many of us do not know our neighbors. We tend to go about our business and mind our own business.

When I was growing up, it would have seemed sci-fi to believe that someday we the entire world would be a few keystrokes away. Who could have foreseen twenty-four hour TV, or so many channels that we never watch them all?

Still, in the world of connectivity, some of us feel alone. I believe many Alzheimer’s caregivers feel the loneliest of all. In fact, caregivers may feel like their world has turned upside down, and they have landed in a strange and foreign land.

We each have our own road to travel; our own frontiers to conquer. We never know how strong we can be until we face an unconquerable challenge. For me, that challenge was Jim’s dementia. For others it may be cancer, or heart disease, or the sudden death of a loved one. We never know what the next day, or for that matter, the next hour, will bring.

Earth is our home for a certain time. We have only a finite number of years to gaze at the stars, fall in love, have children, and visit with our loved ones who may live down the road or across country. We have things to do—so many things to do—and a short time to do them.

When I walk the dog and look at the heavens, sometimes I feel a chill, or an unexplainable ache. I see many things at night, and sometimes during the day.

One day earlier this week while the dog and I were meandering across the backyard, I looked up at a blue sky with a few scattered fluffy clouds. I saw a strange, rectangular white object passing rapidly by.

“Do you see that?” I yelled at Harold. Of course, he didn’t hear me. Just as I marveled at that object, I saw another. In a few minutes, they were gone.

I told Harold what I’d seen, and he said, “Probably a weather balloon.” Just like my dad, he thinks every strange flying object is a weather balloon.

“What I saw was flat. Didn’t look like any kind of balloon.”

Oh, well, there’s no way of really knowing what the strange flying objects were. They could have been something from Whiteman AFB, a runaway pair of drones, sheets off a line that decided to go for a thrill ride, or maybe a deflated weather balloon.

Since the objects were unknown, I like to think they might have been a couple of angels making their way toward the heavens. Maybe, I was the only one looking up during that brief moment of visibility. At least there were two of them, so neither was traveling alone.

Copyright © June 2017 by L.S. Fisher
http://earlyonset.blogspot.com

Friday, June 16, 2017

Silence, Please

My granddaughter was in a production of Dancing to Never Land, and I drove to Jefferson City to watch. As we were waiting for the program to begin, I remembered to silence my phone. While we patiently waited for her part, I took photos with my spanking new camera to make sure I could get quality photos.

An hour-and-a half into the program, my phone began to play a happy tune. What? How could that be? Of course, it didn’t play its tune during a set change or when the music was loud—oh, no, it was during a quiet time. Then, it dawned on me—it was my sunset alarm. Since we’ve been closing the blinds in the evenings, I don’t have my bird’s eye view of the setting sun, so I set an alarm to remind me to look. Turning off the ringer and media sound does not silence the alarm.

Last Sunday I heard a phone ringing during the pastor’s message. It rang, and rang, and rang. I don’t know if the person was deaf, ignoring the ring, or not wanting to call attention to himself by pulling out the phone.

Maybe they thought it was someone else’s phone. That happened to me once many years ago during an Alzheimer’s Board Meeting with my first cell phone. I could hear a phone ringing and thought, “How rude!” Except, when I reached my car I saw I had missed several phone calls. My son wanted me to know that we were under a tornado warning. He didn’t know I was in a different town at a meeting.

Then, there’s always the talker that won’t stop when a prayer begins. They are way too involved in a conversation to notice everyone has fallen into silence. How annoying that all you can hear is their conversation instead of the prayer.

When some people are alone, they have to fill their home with noise—the TV, radio, or some other racket—but I always loved the quiet. I’ve never found anything more soothing than the sound of silence, or the quiet sounds of a country night.

I’m not the only one who reveres silence. Others have provided poetic and practical observations about silence:  silence is golden, listen to silence—it has much to say, speak only if it improves the silence, silence speaks louder than words, silence says it all…

I saw a TED talk on noise. Julian Treasure said that most noise in our lives is accidental and unpleasant. Noise affects us physiologically, psychologically, cognitively, and behaviorally.
Silence or soothing noises can improve productivity and improve mood.

After leaving a party where dozens of conversations are going at once, walking out of a noisy restaurant, or shutting off a too-loud TV, I retreat into my favorite environment of stillness and relaxation. My mind thinks, “What a relief!” I’m in my element when all I can hear are the blessed sounds of silence.

Copyright © June 2017 by L.S. Fisher


Wednesday, June 7, 2017

Go Purple in June

I was at the grocery store a few days ago and the woman at the checkout asked me if I liked purple. Now, how did she know that? Well, let’s see—purple Alzheimer’s shirt, purple bracelet, purple nails, purple shoes, purple purse…

“Yes, I do,” I said. “Purple is the Alzheimer’s color and I plan to wear purple every day in June for Alzheimer’s and Brain Awareness Month.”

Tuesday was a complete Go Purple day for me. Not only did I wear purple, I spent the day with Paige from the Greater Missouri Chapter on Alzheimer’s related activities. First, we taped shows on two different radio stations, we contacted several businesses about teams and corporate sponsors, and we found a venue for an August program and care consultation. The day went really well and I found the enthusiasm and support to be a refreshing change.

The Alzheimer’s Association has a one-day event called the Longest Day. Of course, the longest day of the year is in June and this year, the fundraiser is celebrated on June 21. The Longest Day is about love for those affected by Alzheimer’s disease. People do an activity they love—playing games, exercising, sports, hobbies—and while they enjoy their activity, they raise funds for the Alzheimer’s Association.

The Longest Day is a perfect fit for the Alzheimer’s Association. Caregivers can attest to the intensity and length of each caregiving day. The most well-known family guide about Alzheimer’s and related dementia caregiving is called the 36-Hour Day for a reason. Any Alzheimer’s caregiver can tell you why.

By June, I’m always working on the Alzheimer’s Walk and have never fully participated in a Longest Day team. I believe this would be a great opportunity for someone who isn’t involved in the Walk to End Alzheimer’s , but wants to help support the Alzheimer’s programs.

Of course, I’d encourage everyone to participate in the Walk to End Alzheimer’s. We are always pleasantly surprised to see people we weren’t expecting show up on walk day.

Our walk committee has been small for several years. The same core group has faithfully taken on the task of making the walk a well-attended community event. As it gets closer to walk time, we hope to grow our committee. Many hands make light work. We’ve always been fortunate to have event day volunteers, but fresh ideas and new perspectives are always welcome. We want our walk to be better each year!

I hope you get a chance to participate in the Longest Day or a Walk to End Alzheimer’s no matter where you live. You can go to act.alz.org to find information about the Longest Day and/or find a walk near you. You can help in many ways—you can volunteer for the committee, start a team, join a team, support a team, or show up on walk day, make a donation, and enjoy.

In the meantime, remember to Go Purple! When someone asks you if you like the color purple, it is your opening to create awareness for the five million in the United States who have Alzheimer’s and the fifteen million family caregivers.

Copyright © June 2017 by L.S. Fisher