Olympic Injury

 

I’ve spent the past two weeks binge watching the Olympics. I’ve watched sports that I never realized existed before. With 116 events, and 16 different disciplines, my TV was recording day and night on two different channels. I had to keep a sharp eye out for figure skating since that was my favorite. I usually had to cancel two or three other recordings to make sure that I was watching every figure skating event.

The athletes were amazing and I prioritized events that had an athlete from the USA. Eventually, I noticed that some of the athletes representing the USA were actually from another country but obtained citizenship prior to the Olympics. Also, athletes from the USA sometimes represented a different country, especially if a parent was from that country. It’s a small world after all.

During the Olympics several athletes were injured. Many of the sports are intended for the daredevils of the world. Freestyle skiing and snowboarding seem to be a combination of skill with a healthy dose of luck. Of course, ice hockey is a brawl with players wielding their sticks like swords. I thought the women were vicious until I saw the men. And I don’t even want to speak of the flying blades in speed skating.

One afternoon, I was lying back in my recliner watching the Olympics when someone knocked on the door. I used the buttons to pivot myself toward the floor and took a step and tripped over a shoe. I twisted my knee and as the pain was somewhat unbearable, I had to cancel my plans for Monday.

I whined about my injury which was minor compared to the multiple falls throughout most of the disciplines. Anyway, I have sympathy for anyone who was injured while living their Olympic dream.

  I missed Jim during the Olympics. He enjoyed them as much as I did. His favorite skaters were Katarina Witt and Tanya Harding. The only reason he liked Tanya Harding was because she could do a triple axel when no other woman could. He would have loved Amber Glenn who completed a quad axel in the Olympics.

The first time Jim and I went to see Stars on Ice it was in St. Louis. He was showing early signs of dementia but hadn’t been diagnosed yet and there was no way I was driving. A few things stand out in my memory. One was that our hotel bed had only two pillows on it, and Jim was used to sleeping with two. I dialed housekeeping for him, and he said, “My wife doesn’t have a pillow.” Which, I guess was technically true since he had confiscated both of them.

Another thing I remember about that trip was Jim getting confused and going the wrong way down a one-way street. At the arena, we discovered our seats were the highest ones possible. The skaters looked about two inches tall. I had always though that Oksana Baiul should not have won the Gold Medal in the 1994 Olympics until I saw her in person. She was magnificent on the ice.

We went to see Stars on Ice three times in Kansas City. The first time we went, we parked on a side street and had a difficult time finding our car. Jim had lost his uncanny sense of direction, and I never had one. We exited from a different door than where we had entered. When we started crossing a parking lot, I knew we had zigged when we should have zagged. Jim argued with me, but I insisted we go back to side of the building where we had entered. We came across a family looking for their car. We followed them and found out they were in the same lot where we’d left our vehicle.

The next year we parked in a side lot, but I wrote down the names of the streets and the buildings so that we could find our van. The following year, we went on a bus tour with my mom. Jim refused to take off his parka and he listened to his Walkman throughout the show, and paid no attention to the skaters, including Katarina Witt.

I miss the Jim that would have watched the Olympics with me and recorded the figure skating on the VCR if I wasn’t home. Of course, he couldn’t help himself and told me that, my favorite at the time, Kristi Yamaguchi won the gold medal at the 1992 Olympics before I got to watch it.

Good memories keep Jim close to me during the Olympic season. He would have totally babied me after my “Olympic injury,” but he would have also reminded me to leave my shoes on my feet, not underfoot.  

 

Copyright © February 2026 by L. S. Fisher

http://earlyonset.blogspot.com

#ENDALZ

The Book of Love

 

The Monotones 1958 Doo-Wop song, “The Book of Love,” breaks love into chapters. It also poses the question as to who wrote the book of love.

I like the idea of chapters of love because each of us has several chapters in our love story, or more likely stories. The person who finds true love on their first attempt is rare indeed.

My chapters are different from the song, and may exceed four.

 

Chapter One: Learning to Love. We come into this world ready to love. Our first love is usually our mother, or possibly our father. When we start meeting other children, we fall in and out of love with friends and the cute kid in first grade. Throughout our lives, we will develop several crushes, or puppy love, that we may change as often as we do our clothes.

Chapter Two: Looking for Romantic Love.  Different people begin this quest at different times of their life. Sometimes heartbreak ensues when one person is ready for romantic love and the other person isn’t. Without enough experience, some people don’t realize that the relationship is doomed. People move in and out of our lives, and their impact on our romantic interest often diminishes due to time and distance.

Chapter Three: The Love Connection. After failure and heartbreak, or simply apathy, we know that special love when we find it. It may come soon after meeting someone that you find an instant connection, or it may be a long-term friendship that flared into romance through an accidental touch of hands. People find love in strange and unusual ways. Some people “fall” in love and some people “grow” into love.

Chapter Four: For Better or Worse. When a couple decides to pledge the rest of their lives through marriage, they usually begin the relationship built on high hopes. Fairy tales and Hallmark movies lead us to believe that we will be the happily ever after couple. Love is easy during the “better” times, but when we hit the “worse” we move into the hard part of marriage. Some people can’t handle the stress of financial problems, the reality of seeing another at his worse, being shattered by broken trust, dealing with addiction and/or mental health issues, or lack of prioritizing the relationship.

Chapter Five: In Sickness and in Health. We all treasure our health, but circumstances can test our love and resolve during times of sickness. It takes a strong relationship to power through a serious illness, especially when one partner becomes a caregiver for the other. In Jim’s case, he developed dementia at 49 and for ten years I was his caregiver. Our mutual love turned into unconditional love as he turned inward and could not reciprocate my feelings. I believe my love became stronger, and I became as protective of him as he once was of me.

Chapter Six: The End and Beginning. Not all long-term relationships make it to the finish line. Living with another person is difficult and requires an ongoing commitment to survive the various challenges. Relationships that end in separation or divorce can leave one or both partners with unresolved feelings. Some marriages make it to the “until death do us part” ending. When the relationship is permanently severed, the end will result in new beginnings. The new beginning may be another relationship, or time alone to heal from the loss of a loved one. How to handle grief is different for every person. There is no magic timeline when grief becomes manageable.

Conclusion: Who Wrote the Book of Love? I’m confident that we all write our book of love. Once we find true and abiding love, we co-author the book of love. Hopefully, we both come to the same conclusion.

 

Copyright © February 2026 by L. S. Fisher

http://earlyonset.blogspot.com

#ENDALZ

Winter Wonderland

 

For more than a week, we’ve lived in a deep freeze with sub-zero temperatures and frigid wind chills. The cold weather became officially miserable especially when the snow brought travel to a screeching halt, or worse, a slide into the ditch.

I had made a trip to town ahead of the storm and stocked up on most of the essentials. I didn’t realize that my gallon of milk was more like a pint. After considering the state of the roads and my driveway, I decided I could get by a few days without milk.

Of course, I couldn’t just hang around the house because I had to take care of the dog and cat. The dog lives in the house and the cat curls up in his own cozy, heated house. My dog likes to go outside multiple times a day and I had to replenish the cat’s food and water.

When I took the dog out, I couldn’t help but sing, “Winter Wonderland.” Well, it’s possible I was just trying to psych myself into believing that beauty trumped the cold. It was so cold, that I could almost see the words freezing in mid-air.

Still, I felt lucky to live in a warm house with running water. My car was garaged and I knew it would start easily.

I can remember when Jim and I went through all the hardships of winter. We’ve lived in houses that were impossible to keep warm.

On cold winter nights, Jim would go outside and start our vehicles several times to make sure they would start in the early morning. He could drive in any conditions, and he liked to be the first through the roads.

Jim was an awesome driver in bad weather. Even after he had dementia, I called on him to drive a couple of times when I chickened out. One time, I had him drive on a snowy day and another time, I freaked out on a mountain road and had him drive down the mountain. Traffic could cause him problems, but he never lost his skill as a driver until late in dementia.

On the other hand, I remember one time when our water froze, and Jim just continued watching TV. I called Eric and my brother-in-law to alert them to the problem.

I found my insulated coveralls, my snow boots, preparing for the chill of the great outdoors on my way to the pump house. By the time I made it outside, the two of them were thawing the water lines.

“Your dad is sitting in the house watching TV,” I complained to Eric. “He wasn’t concerned that we didn’t have any water.”

“Well, I bet he would have been concerned if the electricity had gone off and he couldn’t watch TV.”

Yes, that would have made a difference.

Now, I don’t have anyone to shovel the walk, but Harold’s cousin does plow the driveway. At least, I could go get the gallon of milk that I neglected to get ahead of the storm.

Looking from the inside out, the winter wonderland still glistens several days after the storm. The windchills still have the temperature in the sub-zero range.

On our daily phone call this morning, my mom and I talked about warmer days ahead. All that stands between us and the balmy breezes of spring is the short month of February and a few weeks of March.

Wintertime can be a wonderland, or a “wonder how are we going to make it through” another Snowmageddon time. The beauty of winter is not so much in the eye of the beholder as it is whether you are inside looking out, or outside looking in.    

 

Copyright © January 2026 by L. S. Fisher

http://earlyonset.blogspot.com

#ENDALZ

The Fickle Finger of Grief

In the 60’s, Rowan & Martin’s Laugh-In had a segment on each show called the Flying “Fickle Finger of Fate” Award. The award was given to public and political figures, organizations, the government, or various other groups. When awarding the fickle finger to the Pentagon for their expensive purchases, Dick Martin observed there were “five sides to every story at the Pentagon.”

Although this reference to five sides was spoken in humor, it almost seems that all stories have at least five sides. We have the serious side, the hyped side, the biased side, the humorous side, and (once in a great while) the truth.

The fickle finger of fate sometimes points to the fickle finger of grief. We can ramble through our lives unscathed until fate steps in and snatches our state of blissful unawareness and replaces it with unfathomable loss.

Loss is based on our individual tolerance and scope of experiences. For young people: losing your boyfriend (or girlfriend) to a rival may be a crushing blow to your self-esteem, or incentive to enjoy alone time or to find someone more suitable. For adults, the loss of a job can be devastating to some, and a relief to others.

We can move on from most events, but the fickle finger of grief can move in and not move on when the loss is permanent and unreplaceable. When someone you love has dementia, the grief is ambiguous. You have an ongoing sense of loss and sadness although your loved one is still physically with you. Life as you have known it will never be the same. You will need resilience to rebuild your life and realize that you eventually establish a “new” normal.

Other situations can cause ambiguous grief. Any serious or terminal conditions can cause prolonged grief for the person with the illness, friends, family members, and especially the primary care partner. Being strong for someone you love can hurt your heart and shatter your world.

Rather than recovery from grief, we are in remission. Life moves forward, and yet a photo, a song, a random thought, being in a crowd, a quiet moment, or a vivid dream can cause a full-blown outbreak of grief.

A few days ago, I woke up crying after a vivid dream. The loss was as painful as the day it happened. Grief is like a dark cloud that can hide the brightest sun. Sometimes, I have to remind myself that when the cloud dissipates, the sun will shine again and warm my weary soul.

 Most days I feel normal. I refuse to let grief point its fickle finger at me too often. I made myself a promise that I wouldn’t make any major changes for a year. I try to keep busy and productive.

Sometimes I’m too busy and I’ve made myself a promise to relax from time-to-time. I have goals for each day of the week to keep myself from jumping from one project to another too quickly. I’m not as good at multi-tasking as I used to be and am more productive when I focus on one thing at a time.

 At least one day each week is reserved for doing something I enjoy. Its too easy to be bogged down in the drudgery of everyday life instead of making the most of the blessing of life.

No one deserves to let the fickle finger of grief point in their direction, but if it does, you have to remember that only one finger points to grief. The rest of the fingers and the thumb point toward finding your inner peace.

 

Copyright © January 2026 by L. S. Fisher

http://earlyonset.blogspot.com

#ENDALZ 

Weight of Your Words

 When we open our mouths, our words can be for good or evil. Carefully chosen words offer encouragement, hope, and heartfelt inspiration. Words carelessly spoken can ruin a person’s day, inflict emotional harm, or damage self esteem.

Effective Communication is essential to human relationships. We develop our personal style of speaking throughout our lifetime. Depending on our personalities, we may become more thoughtful as we age, or become “outspoken.”

 If by outspoken we refer to being assertive to protect ourselves or others from verbal abuse, it is a good characteristic to have. If our outspokenness is rude and hurtful, then we have become the verbal abusers.

As beauty is in the eye of the beholder, critique is in the ear of the receiver. Some people are more fragile than others. Whether you are careful censoring every thought and word around people like this depends on how much you care about them. Most of us are more comfortable around people with similar communication styles.

In my birth family, we don’t fuss and feud with each other. The main reason is that we don’t poke our noses into each other’s business. Don’t get me wrong, we are not mild-mannered people, and we’ve all been known to throw “Capps” fits from time to time. There’s a line we don’t cross.

Jim and I used to have the best conversations, and when he developed dementia, losing that special connection was one of the hardest to accept. Jim had aphasia and throughout the years, he became more silent. When he spoke, it was often open to interpretation.

To communicate with a person who has a perception problem, whether dementia or another health problem, simpler is usually better.

 

1)   Use short, simple sentences and repeat if necessary. Short term memory problems may mean that your loved one only remembers the last part of the sentence.

2)   Allow ample time for a response. Older people may need more processing time to form a response.

3)  Agree with them, or distract with a different subject or activity. You will never “win” an argument and trying to correct a mistake only creates more confusion.

4)      Respond to their feelings, not their words. Watch for verbal clues.

 

Be forgiving and kind. Remember you are dealing with an adult and be respectful. When all else fails, kindness matters.

No one is perfect, and we can, and do, make mistakes with communication. Extend grace to others who misspeak, and give yourself grace if you are misunderstood.

If you hurt someone with careless words, it is best to clarify or simply apologize. It is best to not let the weight of your words break important relationships. I’ve seen life-long friendships severed by words spoken in haste, or anger, and left to fester into a chasm of blame.

Through grace, we can forgive and forget, and if remedied soon enough, we may even forget what we forgave. Holding a grudge means the weight of our words is an unnecessary burden too heavy to carry. 

 Copyright © January 2026 by L. S. Fisher

http://earlyonset.blogspot.com

#ENDALZ