Why I Walk

I walk for Jim. I think I loved him from the first day we met. I felt as if I had found the other half of my soul.

It was by chance that Jim was in Missouri since he spent most of his growing up years in the Northwest. Jim loved to travel, and we often went to Oregon to visit his relatives and childhood places. Later, we went to Estes Park and the Rocky Mountains annually.

Jim was a talented musician who loved to play his Fender guitar and sing country songs. I remember one time I videotaped him with our gigantic video camera singing “Colorado” while chipmunks and tourists stopped everything to soak up the sunshine, clear mountain air, and melody.

Jim’s life was cut short when he developed dementia at forty-nine. He passed away in 2005 after ten years living with a disease that robbed him of his talents, sense of humor, and insightful conversation.

Jim lives in my memories and dreams, and I know he is not forgotten by his family and friends. We need to stop this disease before more families go through the pain and loss of Alzheimer’s disease and other dementia.

More than 600 walks are held across the country. If you cannot come to Sedalia, join a walk near your hometown. Walk for Jim. Walk for your loved ones. Walk for the more than seven million people living with Alzheimer’s and the eleven million unpaid caregivers.

This year for the 27^th time, Jim’s Team will walk for a different future.

 

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Click Jim’s Team to join or donate

Link to the Sedalia Walk alz.org/sedaliawalk

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 Photo courtesy of Kevin Walker 2023 Sedalia Walk to End Alzheimer's

Copyright © September 2024 by L.S. Fisher

http://earlyonset.blogspot.com

#ENDALZ #Walk2EndAlz

Old School

 

I’ve not been able to work out of my office downstairs because the wifi won’t reach it. Although a portion of the work I do doesn’t require wifi, it comes in handy for reference. Recently, I moved into Harold’s old office, and he set up shop at a worktable in the bedroom.

Harold has occupied this office since the house was built, and it has various computers, equipment galore, shelves upon shelves of computer books, a full file cabinet, two TVs, a multitude of CDs, and various items too numerous to mention.

I’ve begun trying to carve out a usable workspace. Not knowing where to start, I began on the wire shelves. I soon realized that that was a humongous job, so I looked at the bookshelf. I know I’m going to have to work really hard to get Harold to let go of his program manuals that line almost every shelf of the bookcase and several of the wire shelves.

Then, I noticed his old college textbooks were on the bottom shelf. With full confidence that he wouldn’t want to browse a book on physics, chemistry, graphics (about actual graphs!), analytic geometry, programming in Fortran IV, and a dozen other equally boring subjects. Much to my delight, he said I could pitch them.

Nothing speaks old school like outdated textbooks or outdated equipment. Although we, like most other people, disconnected our house phone, but one of us wouldn’t pitch all the old phones and phone equipment. I found an old address book that had a sliding alphabet. It took me a few minutes to figure out how to pop it open. I’m sure there wasn’t an address or phone number less than 30 years old.

When we look into boxes that have been packed away, we find “old school” outdated items, but we can also uncover treasures. I recently went through a box we found in the shop at the rental house. I found a comic book from the 60s, two old cameras still in the boxes, letters from Burma during WWII, postcards from all over the US, and a variety of other memorabilia. The best find, as far as I’m concerned, was a pilsner beer glass that has become my go-to water glass.

Throughout life, many of us have an abundance of old school treasures that others can easily identify as junk. I’ve always been a packrat, but Jim was a minimalist at heart. I believe that moving around a lot as a kid, he learned to choose what was important enough to move with him.

Jim’s idea of getting rid of excess baggage has been known to get him into trouble, especially with me. When we moved from a two-story farmhouse to a mobile home, Jim was heartless in selling our furniture to a second-hand store.

We moved only the furniture and belongings that would fit into the mobile home and a small storage shed. Over time, the shed leaked and ruined some of the items stored in it. One day, while I was at work, Jim enlisted the help of my sister-in-law to help him clean out the shed. They discarded the wet, mildewed objects and put aside the undamaged ones. As payment, Jim gave her my good set of dishes. I was furious, but he pointed out that we never used them and the plates were too flat. I couldn’t argue with that kind of logic.

So often it’s out of sight, out of mind. We find ourselves burdened with unusable junk that either sentiment or indecision keeps us from discarding.

If only the clutter of life itself was as easy to discard as old textbooks, life would be simpler. Instead, we cling to our burdens and worries until we are drowning in them. If we can convince ourselves to let go and look to the future with hope and optimism, we find the life preservers that will keep us from drowning in despair.

Life is more complex now. The tools that were meant to make life easier often make our lives more challenging. In our wildest dreams, we never envisioned a world where cell phones and social media meant we would be constantly in contact with the world.

Old school carries a sense of nostalgia. Our past is what makes us what we are today. We remember the world before Google gave us instant answers to all our questions, and we marveled at life’s mysteries. We’ve gained instant gratification, but we’ve lost the magic of using our imaginations and God-given talent to ponder the endless possibilities.

Copyright © August 2024 by L.S. Fisher

http://earlyonset.blogspot.com

#ENDALZ

Birthday Thoughts

One thing I know, unequivocally, is that life is not fair. If life were fair, today would have been Jim’s 79^th birthday. Instead, of “live long and prosper,” dementia took him down in April 2005.

Jim grew up traveling the highways and byways between Missouri and Oregon with various detours along the way. He lived in rickety rental houses, as well as under trees and bridges. Still, he had a happy, adventurous childhood.

The one thing about Jim’s family that I understood clearly was that sometimes they did not have a house to live in, but they were not homeless. Some people say that church is not a building, but cannot accept that home is not always a house.

I remember a trip to Oregon when we drove around with Jim’s brother Bob. He would point at a huge tree and say, “We lived under that tree.” And who could forget the story of the bridge they lived under in Texas. A man in a fancy car brought them groceries. Later when he became president, they recognized Lyndon Johnson.

When we traveled through Oregon, Idaho, and Utah, Jim would point out what he called his “old stomping grounds.” We drove by a house in Silverton where the Fisher family lived for quite awhile. Jim had often talked about the weeping willow tree, and it still stood in the front yard.

Another thing I know is that life is serendipitous. My Mom and Dad went to town once a week to stock up on groceries. It takes a lot of groceries to feed eight kids. Sometimes I went with them and sometimes I stayed home. One week, Mom and I were in the Dew Drop Inn having a hamburger when a man that my mom knew sat down at our table to visit. His name was Kenneth Fisher.

The next week on our grocery run, I ran into Kenneth again, and he said, “Linda, I have someone I want you to meet.” He proceeded to introduce me to his son and nephew. The nephew was Jim and Kenneth became “Uncle Orvie” to me.

Life can sometimes be a smooth, boring highway, and other times a treacherous mountain pass crammed with hairpin curves and no guardrails. Undoubtedly, the terrain of life can transition from one extreme to another in a heartbeat. Either way, there’s no going back for do-overs. The pathway ahead has to be navigated with planning, skill, and luck.

Jim and I had a rough road in the beginning, followed by several mundane years without life being such a struggle. Then, we spent the final ten years careening the hairpin curves, and hanging onto as much normalcy as we could. Through it all, our love never wavered.

Life is a series of destinations. We move through childhood, thinking we want to be adults. After we become adults, we hope to find our dream job, someone to love, and a happy, healthy family. As we grow older, we launch our kids, grandkids, and great-grandkids along life’s journey.

Our final earthly destination is death. Jim’s came when he was 59 years old after ten harrowing years of cognitive decline. His time here on earth came to an end, but he left an indelible mark in our hearts and memories.

Since I met Jim on that summer day in 1968, not a single day has gone by that I haven’t thought of him. Sometimes in quiet moments, I can feel his loving presence, and I know he is just a heartbeat or a breath away.

Yes, today, Jim would have been 79 years old if he was still on earth, but instead he is ageless.    

To Register or to Donate to the Sedalia Walk: alz.org/sedaliawalk  (our team is Jim's Team) 

Copyright © August 2024 by L.S. Fisher

http://earlyonset.blogspot.com

#ENDALZ 

Do Chickens Have Fingers?

I fixed chicken sandwiches and Arby’s curly fries for lunch, and I asked Harold what he would like to have with it. He said, “Ketchup.” Then after a hesitation, he mentioned mustard, mayo, pickles, tomato, and lettuce.

“That reminds me of the time we took Colby to Applebee’s when he was little. He looked at the kid’s menu and decided to order his own meal. The first item he ordered was ketchup. Then he ordered fries, and last he ordered chicken fingers.”

Flashback to Branson, Applebee’s: “I didn’t even know chickens had fingers,” I said. Colby just gave me his “silly old grandma” look.

We went to Silver Dollar City where we rode rides and splashed in the water to cool off. Jim and Colby went to play with the Nerf balls and had a good time. Jim would hand the balls to Colby and he would put them in the tube.

Everything was going well until we all had to go to the bathroom. I went into the women’s restroom while Jim watched our bags. When I came out, Jim and Colby went into the men’s, and I sat on a bench close to the door to watch for them.

I waited and waited. Finally, I asked a man to go into the restroom and see if my husband and grandson were inside. He came back out and said they weren’t, but he told me that there was another door on the other side of the building.

Jim was in the early stages of the disease and now he was missing with my grandson. As I was starting to panic and wondering how to get hold of security, they came walking up on the opposite side of the restroom. I believe that Colby had brought him back. After that scary moment, I was ready to leave for the day.

One of the saddest parts of dementia is that Jim was not able to enjoy his grandkids like he could have otherwise. He only knew three of his four grandchildren, and it wasn’t long before they were trying to look after him.

Jim’s dementia affected the entire family. When Whitney was about two years old, she understood that Grandpa couldn’t go outside by himself because he might get lost. We were babysitting Whitney one day and decided to go next door to visit Virginia.

Jim was restless and paced the floor. He casually worked his way toward the door, and Whitney spotted him. She jumped into the doorway spreading her arms and legs to barricade the door.

“No, Papa Jim!” she said with all the authority she could muster.

Jim stopped in front of her, turned around, and sat in the recliner.

Virginia must have experienced a mother’s worst nightmare as she watched her son vanish into a dimension that defies the imagination. Throughout our time together, Jim had always been a rock for his mom and dad. He sent his mom an allotment when he was in the military to help them through financial difficulties.

Jim singlehandedly planned and began construction on a small house so his parents could move out of a mobile home that was falling apart. Jim felt an urgency to see that his parents had a decent place to live, and felt that our house would just have to wait. Jim’s dad only lived a few months after moving into the house, and after his death, Virginia lived alone.

Instead of Jim looking after his mom, the circle closed and she began looking after him. When her health failed, other family members along with hired caregivers took care of Jim while I worked.

After Jim was in long-term care, Virginia visited him faithfully often bringing him his favorite foods. I would pick Jim up at the nursing home and take him to Dairy Queen. His favorite meal was the chicken strip dinner with a strawberry milk shake. I’m not sure when “chicken fingers” became “chicken strips,” but at least we don’t have to puzzle over whether chickens have fingers.

To Register or to Donate to the Sedalia Walk: alz.org/sedaliawalk  (our team is Jim's Team)

Copyright © August 2024 by L.S. Fisher

http://earlyonset.blogspot.com

#ENDALZ

Not All Dementia Is Alzheimer's Disease

Generally speaking, when a person develops an Alzheimer’s type of dementia, they are presumed to have Alzheimer’s disease, the most common dementia. Jim was diagnosed with “dementia, most likely, Alzheimer’s,” but an autopsy showed that he had corticobasal ganglionic degeneration, a rare disorder. I had never heard of the disease, so imagine my surprise when I discovered that it usually begins as a movement disorder.

The symptoms of corticobasal degeneration:

1)           1)            Movement. One side of the body can be hard to move because of muscle stiffness, spasms, and tremors. Balance problems can lead to falls. A lack of coordination can cause a shuffling gait. Jim had what is known as an “alien” limb and balance problems later in the disease.

2)            Speech. Halting speech and difficulty forming words. Jim had aphasia.

3)            Cognition.  The damaged and shrinking brain causes a person to have memory loss, confusion, difficulty performing daily tasks, and problems finding correct words. Jim often used to say the exact opposite of what he meant and used repetitive phrases instead of meaningful conversation.

4)            Personality. Jim’s personality changed drastically. Sometimes he would be extremely agitated or aggressive, especially if he wasn’t feeling well. When he could walk unassisted, he tended to pace or wander. Other times, he was docile and quiet.

You can probably see how corticobasal degeneration could be mistaken for Alzheimer’s. An inherited gene is usually the cause of younger or early-onset Alzheimer’s. Corticobasal degeneration is not considered an inherited disease, but can run in families. The most common cause is a buildup of the protein tau. The hallmarks of Alzheimer’s are beta-amyloid protein plaques, and neurofibrillary tangles that form when tau protein accumulates inside the neurons and impairs the communication between cells.

I recently read an interesting article about Alzheimer’s and a related dementia in elderly persons. Three studies have focused on HS-Aging (hippocampal sclerosis in aging people), a type of dementia typically found in persons 85 and older.

HS-Aging is often misdiagnosed as Alzheimer’s disease. The reason for the misdiagnosis is simple—Alzheimer’s is the most common of the hundreds of types of dementia. A large study disclosed that at autopsy, about 20% of elderly persons with dementia had HS-Aging. Almost none of the study group had received a diagnosis of HS-Aging during life.

Arteriolosclerosis is a form of hardening and loss of elasticity of small arteries in the brain.  Hypertension, diabetes, high cholesterol, and aging are risk factors. People used to refer to this disease as “hardening of the arteries.”  Persons with HS-Aging generally have higher cognitive ability than those with Alzheimer’s disease and are more fluent verbally than those with frontotemporal degeneration.

A healthy lifestyle reduces your risk of developing dementia and/or cardiovascular disease. Change is never easy, but implementing some healthy habits can help you physically and mentally.

Physical Activity: Get up out of your chair and move! Aerobic activity can be a brisk walk, riding a bike, doing yard work, or getting a workout at the gym. Lifting small weights or resistance training can strengthen your muscles.

Healthy Diet: Follow the Mediterranean diet guidelines and increase vegetables, fruits, nuts, whole grains, and beans. Eat moderate amounts of poultry, seafood, eggs, and dairy. Limit sweets and sugary beverages.

Social Engagement: People who are socially active are healthier and happier than loners. Play cards, enjoy outings with friends, volunteer, or join a club. Spend time with people who raise your spirits.

Health and Safety: Get a checkup annually and visit your doctor when you notice a new condition or symptom. Watch your numbers: blood pressure, blood sugar, and weight. Clear your home of tripping hazards and use grab bars or walking aides as needed.

You may have celebrated 70, 80, or 90 birthdays, but your spirit can be as young as you want it to be. The power of positive thinking can overcome the negatives that life may throw at you.

 

sources: https://alzheimersweekly.com

ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3946156/

 

Copyright © July 2024 by L.S. Fisher

http://earlyonset.blogspot.com

#ENDALZ

To Plan or not to Plan

 

Recently, I reached into the freezer to get a container of cheese and bumped a package of ground pork. The pork fell to the floor and knocked off the plastic piece at the bottom of the freezer. I tried bending over (not recommended) to snap it back in place.

Finally, I decided to sit on the floor so I could see what I was doing. After I put the piece back, I looked around and realized that I had nothing to hold onto to get back up. After a few failed attempts, I scooted down the hallway to the bedroom where I thought Harold was still sleeping. Fortunately, he was awake and gave me a hand so that I could get back to my feet.

 “I heard something, but didn’t know you fell,” he said. I had to admit that I hadn’t fallen, but was foolish enough to sit on the floor without a plan to get back on my feet.

Sitting on the floor was ironic, since I’m a “fly by the seat of my pants” type of person. Harold, on the other hand, is such a planner that by the time he plans how we are going to do something, I’m worn out and don’t want to participate.

I know that he thinks I don’t do anything since I don’t talk about what I’m going to do, or have finished. I can write to-do lists all day long, but 99 percent of what I plan to do is inside my head waiting for the signal to activate.

I cherish the days I can sleep late because they are rare. Invariably, on a day I can sleep in, I wake up at five a.m. Last Monday morning, I slept until eight. The bad thing about sleeping late is that it takes longer for me to walk normally. Anyway, around 9:30, we decided to fix biscuits and gravy for breakfast. Of course, just as we started Harold’s phone rang. I didn’t get to it in time and mine started ringing. It was the alarm company saying we had an overhead door alarm going off at the shop by the rental house.

The alarm company offered to send the sheriff’s department, but I told them I’d go check it. We have had several false alarms—no real ones. Imagine my surprise when I saw the overhead door was standing wide open. Even better, imagine the thieves’ surprise when they activated the alarm siren. They had thrown gravel making a rapid get-away. I stood in the heat, hot, sweaty, and hungry, while I waited for help to arrive, to lower the door and place a temporary lock.

Fast forward to yesterday when the overhead door company arrived to fix the door. At least I’d had breakfast, but almost had heatstroke while I gathered up old items to throw in the dumpster. This is one time I planned ahead—we need help and a cool fall day to clear the junk out of the shop.

Jim was a planner too in some ways and seat-of-the pants in others. He loved to plan a trip since travel was one of his favorite activities. Whether it was a trip to Colorado or “out West” to visit family, he was all about stocking the van with all the equipment necessary.

When he was in the early stages of dementia, we still traveled to Colorado, but we made hotel reservations instead of camping. On the day we were leaving, I told Jim to go pack his duffle bag. He was gone just a few minutes and carried his bag into the kitchen. I was suspicious of the speed, so I opened the duffle. Jim had emptied out his underwear drawer and had completely filled the bag with underwear and socks.

Although Jim loved to plan trips, he was famous for his impromptu jam sessions at our house. Most of the time, I had little or no notice. I’ll admit they were usually fun and back in those days, I didn’t have other outside activities taking up my time.

To plan or not to plan, that is the question. I guess the answer depends on the type of person you are. I do make plans—that’s why my calendar is covered with important appointments, and the dry erase board is covered with reminders.

I’ll admit that it doesn’t bother me too much to scratch the plans and instead go with the impromptu jam session. Life is too short to have an inflexible schedule.

 Copyright © July 2024 by L.S. Fisher

http://earlyonset.blogspot.com

#ENDALZ

Wildflowers

Recently I watched Blue Valley Songbird, a 1999 Dolly Parton movie where she sang several songs I had never heard, including “Wildflowers.” As with many of the songs Dolly wrote, this song held a special truth for her.

In the song, she talks about how wildflowers are plentiful and grow anywhere, but she wasn’t content to be part of the crowd. In the movie, and in real life, Dolly had more ambition that the people who had influence over her. In the movie, her manager/boyfriend took on the role of holding her back, discouraging her from playing to larger audiences. I believe this fictional character represented the conflicted feelings Dolly had about breaking away from Porter Wagoner.

I loved the song, and added it to my song list for our family band. The song makes me think of the wildflowers that I picked throughout the hills around the old home place. I would gather up bouquets of purple phlox, Indian paintbrush, brown-eyed susans, and other wildflowers I came across. One of the hills was covered with tiny white flowers that we all knew would transform into wild strawberries later in the summer.

The Wildflowers song is more about a person who feels different from the crowd than it is about flowers. I think that most of us feel different from our peers. We may be different in significant ways, or in ways that are insignificant, but some of us can’t tell the difference.

My brother Donnie was definitely a person who traveled to the beat of a different drum. He was different, and he didn’t care. In fact, he thrived on being wild and free.

Jim was a person who had a strong sense of self. He had principles that he wouldn’t compromise for anyone. Just because everyone around him thought or acted in a predictable way, Jim was not influenced by their behavior. Jim was intelligent, thoughtful, and hardheaded when it came to what he considered to be his path to follow. He loved his family with all his heart, and he would have laid his life on the line for any of us.

Many of us feel safest if we don’t stand out from the crowd, finding safety in numbers. Fear of how others may perceive us, keeps most of us in line. Really, how funny is it that some who want to be different, fall prey to cultish behavior when they find other like-minded people and blindly follow the leader.

We all have challenges to face in life, and watching a loved one withering away with dementia is a big one. How we handle adversity defines our character, faith, and fortitude. Tragedies that break some people make others stronger. 

I’ve noticed that people who have the least are often the ones who give the most to others. Some who don’t have monetary wealth, have riches of spirit, and give the gift of time. To be completely present in the moment is a trait that many of us do not have. We can be witnessing an important celebration or event, and the first thing we do is send a text or browse reactions on our smart phones.

Life used to be simpler. Once we had time to gather wildflowers in the woods and found time to visit with our neighbors. We used to play card games, have big dinners, and go for Sunday drives. We used to sit on the porch and drink coffee or tea.

When we talked religion or politics, we had thoughtful discussions, not angry words. After we watched a thirty-minute news program, we turned off the TV and went on with our lives.

Now, we look at wildflowers and think of them as weeds and contemplate how to get rid of them. In the song “Wildflowers,” the flowers represent people. Unfortunately, in today’s world, we seem to be trying to get rid of people who aren’t like us, or who don’t think like us. Instead of looking for the hundreds of opinions we agree on, we focus on one disagreement.

We no longer notice the beauty of the wildflower blooms, and instead wait for the pesky weeds to wither and die. Maybe it’s time to take a step back so that we can move forward in unity. 

 Copyright © July 2024 by L.S. Fisher

http://earlyonset.blogspot.com

#ENDALZ

Favorite Songs

 

During World Music Day, I heard the question posed on the radio, “If you had to listen to music by one artist on a ten-hour road trip, who would it be?” I never heard any answers so maybe it was just a rhetorical question to make a person think.

Well, I thought about it and couldn’t really come up with an answer. I did know that on a 1999 trip to Colorado, we listened to one artist on a twelve-hour road trip.

During that time, Jim’s favorite singer was Michael Martin Murphey. While we drove down I-70 through the wheat fields and sunflowers of Kansas, Jim insisted we play only Michael Martin Murphey tapes—and he had a stack of them.

My mom and nephew were on this trip with us. As Jim napped in the backseat, Mom looked at me and said, “You know I always liked Michael Martin Murphey.”

“Me too,” I said.

“But…after listening to him for hours and hours, I don’t care to ever hear him again.”

“Me either,” I said.

The day I met Jim, I quickly learned that his favorite singer was Buck Owens. We were at the Dew Drop Inn at Stover and he fed the jukebox and played only Buck Owens songs. Through the years, I heard every song that Buck Owens recorded. “Buckaroo” was so ingrained in Jim’s mind that he was able to play it flawlessly five years into dementia.

Music has a direct link to something deep inside of us. A special song can release endorphins that lift our spirits and heal our hearts. Jim played the guitar and wooed me with “Tender Feelings” and “Lindarella” (his version of Buck Owen’s “Cinderella.”) It’s hard to resist a guy who plays guitar and sings special songs.

Jim suffered from chronic pain and PTSD. He kept his acoustic guitar on a stand in the kitchen and while he worked on his first cup of coffee, he would pick up his guitar and strum a few tunes. Sometimes, he sang, but for his “therapy,” as he called it, he usually just played his guitar. Jim innately understood the healing power of music.

Music can be enjoyed in many ways. I have kept my SiriusXM in my car so that I can listen to the type of music that suits my mood. Some days I listen to 60s or 50s music. The music of my youth can magically lift my spirits. Also, it’s a good way to find songs that the residents of the nursing homes and assisted living centers can enjoy.

Research shows that music improves our sense of well-being and can boost mental health. Listening to music can also help persons with Alzheimer’s reconnect with memories of happier times.

When our family band plays music for residents, it’s good for them and good for us. I love to look at the residents’ faces and see them light up with joy when they recognize a song. Often they will sing along.

We are volunteers and never charge or accept payment for entertaining. As amateur entertainers, we make an effort to do our best. We usually have two practice sessions before we play anywhere. The first session is to try new songs and the second one is to practice our program. My brother Jimmy is the bandleader, and we run through our chosen songs until he finds the best key. Each month we have a different playlist downloaded to our tablets complete with song lyrics, chords, and the key for the singer.

Learning to play an instrument helps keep your brain healthier as you age. Warren Buffett creates balance in his work life by playing the ukulele. Buffett learned to play the instrument when he was eighteen years old. He had a crush on a girl who already had a boyfriend. The only thing he could figure out that the other guy had that he didn’t was a ukulele. Although he still didn’t win the girl, his ukulele came in handy when he fell in love with Susan Thompson. While Susan went out with friends or on dates, Buffett jammed with her dad who played a mandolin. This time the ukulele saved the day and the couple wed in 1952. 

The ukulele has enriched my life. My monetary wealth falls short of Warren Buffett’s by about 135 billion dollars, but I venture to guess that I enjoy playing my ukulele as much as he does.

Copyright © June 2024 by L.S. Fisher

http://earlyonset.blogspot.com

#ENDALZ

Personality

The last time our family band was setting up to play music at the Good Samaritan Care Center in Cole Camp we heard some 50s era music over their speakers. The song “Personality” came on and my brother, sister-in-law and I sang along as we worked. We talked about the possibility of adding the song to our play list.

With all kinds of love songs floating around, you don’t hear too many that mention personality as a main attribute. Perhaps the song’s popularity was because we are often attracted to others because of his or her personality.

Personality can be defined as complicated categories, physiological types, or with various  psychoanalytic theories. Some people think their personality type is determined by the signs of the Zodiac. I think personality is a person’s characteristic way of thinking, feeling, and behaving that comprises an individual’s unique adjustment to life. 

If you look at your friends, you may find that many have similar personalities, although your inner circle of friends may also have complementary personalities. You may be shy and meek, but your friend will stand up for you and boldly defend you. Personalities are unique and define our humanity.

Jim and I were alike in many ways, yet different in others. We both came from large, extended families that thrived on jam sessions. Family was important to both of us. We were different in that I grew up in one house and went to one school, but Jim lived in dozens of houses throughout his lifetime and went to several different schools in various states. Jim loved to travel and camp out, but I preferred to stay home in comfort. I thought it was important to save for a rainy day, and Jim thought money was only important as to what it would buy.

Through good times and bad, we blended together. He taught me to love travel and camping, and I brought him around to fiscal responsibility. Our personalities kept life interesting and we had an abundance of deep, meaningful conversations interspersed with humor and laughter.

Then, along came dementia. The most heartbreaking part of the disease was losing the sense of self that made Jim…Jim. For a long time, he looked the same on the outside, but he wasn’t the same on the inside. He lost the sharp wit, the intelligence, and the awesome mechanical abilities that he had. No, everything didn’t change at once, parts of his personality shone through at times, but as he lost his skills and ability to carry on a conversation, he turned inward.

Jim’s personality changed, but his personhood did not. He lost many of the qualities of his personality, but he retained the goodness of his heart and, occasionally, I saw a spark of his spirit. He was a man with dementia, but he was still a unique individual.   

Jim and I were two sides of the same coin. By the time Jim’s personality changed, we shared a history that allowed my love to reshape itself. Jim had once been my protector, but eventually, I became his. Nothing else builds a characteristic adjustment to life as much as necessity does.

When we think of falling in love, “personality” may not be the first word that comes to mind, but it may be what captures the heart and keeps love alive.  

 Copyright © June 2024 by L.S. Fisher

http://earlyonset.blogspot.com

#ENDALZ

Never too Old

In 2017, I bought a cheap ukulele and watched YouTube videos to learn a few chords. At first, I thought I might be too old to learn to play an instrument.

I started practicing with the family band, which increased my learning curve. Before long, my new skill led to playing and singing with them in local nursing homes and a retirement community.

I’ve found that I’m not too old to learn new songs. We practice our material before we play in public. It’s always fun to learn new material. Some songs are easy to learn, but others are a challenge. The thing I’ve noticed is that sometimes the more challenging songs become embedded in my memory. Singing is fun and learning new tunes is good mental exercise.

Playing music for appreciative audiences is good for the soul—theirs and mine. Music can be a  connection to the past, and I’m always gratified when I see faces light up as they sing along. A song they haven’t heard before can also make a connection. I’m sure most of the residents had never heard “Ozark Mountain Lullaby” but after I sang it a few times, many of them sang along with the la-la-la part. A visitor at one of the homes last month held a baby in her arms, and she was singing that part to her baby. Be still my heart!

A few weeks ago, I brought my mom’s guitar home with me and thought that since I had it, I might as well see if I could play it. The chords seemed awkward at first, and I was beginning to wonder whether I would ever get my fingers in the correct positions. After a few days, I realized that I had learned several basic chords. Now, I just have to develop the muscle memory to be able to change swiftly from one chord to another.

As I sat practicing G and C chords, Harold said, “That guitar sounds really good.”

“Imagine how good it would sound if I knew what I was doing.”

I have firmly convinced myself that I’m not too old to learn something new. It takes practice, practice, and more practice. It takes perseverance with a healthy amount of stubbornness.

Learning new skills is good brain exercise, and without a doubt, my brain needs all the exercise it can get!

I’ll be the first to admit that I’ve slowed down with age. With another birthday looming over me, I want to focus on what I can do rather than what I can’t do.

You are never too old to laugh. I still have a good sense of humor and I find humor in everyday life. I’m nearly deaf in one ear and my husband is nearly deaf in both ears. A few days ago, I was getting ready to leave for my mom’s house, and I told Harold that I was taking some “hens and chickens” to my mom. Okay, I should have said “hens and chicks” because that’s what the succulent plant is called. What I said and what he heard were two different statements. He asked, “Why are you taking candy kisses to your mom?”

I’ve never been mechanically inclined so I had the guy that mows our lawn check the oil in my mower. He flipped the seat forward and checked the oil. Several days later, I decided to use the mower to move some wood chips from the pile. The mower started fine, but when I released the brake, the mower died. After about four trys, I realized something was wrong. I thought about the kill switch that stops the mower if you fall off. I flipped the seat forward and sure enough, all I had to do was connect the two ends. So, I guess you’re never too old to do it yourself.

You are never too old to say no, even if you’ve spent a lifetime saying yes. If the covid shutdown taught me one thing, it was that one of the blessings of life is to do nothing at all from time to time. I’ve spent the last two decades of my life going in so many directions that at times I’ve lost my way. The pressure of trying to make all the meetings, appointments, and make headway on all the ongoing projects left my head spinning. Literally!

I believe that keeping busy is good for the body and brain, but we all know what happens when we overload a circuit. My goal for the upcoming months is to focus on the activities that bring joy into my life. I want to decompress, de-stress, and embrace each day as a gift of abundant living.  

 

Copyright © June 2024 by L.S. Fisher

http://earlyonset.blogspot.com

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