The cover photo on this page is a photo of a girl covering her face in shame (Photo prompt by Marcella Leff, administrator)

Von Kahlo has chosen the topic of shame in free verse poem for the August 2015 monthly contest. You may write in any style or poetic form a poem about shame- what is it and how do you resolve it or not

embarrassWith age comes slacking

A time of lacking

We stand in time

Remain in line

This can be bad

And even sad

When mistakes we make

And people hate

Cuz they don’t understand

They don’t see the plan

Our minds still tick

But fog is thick

Filled with memories

Of children and trees

Babies born

Husbands are torn

What once was gay

Can be sad, I say

So when I go out and do

Something stupid or rude

Please take in stride

Don’t scold don’t chide

Don’t sit me on a shelf

When I embarrass you and myself

Just cover your grin

And hold it in

Put your arm around me

Tell me words I can see

This is what we need.

Written by,

Terry Shepherd

New Pair of Feet and Arms

I have never been so glad to get home in months. I worked tonight and although I have great compassion for those who are suffering from Dementia and Alzheimer’s ; I could think of better things to be doing.

Part of the issue was my feet. This client wanted to walk up and down the sidewalk, go down the hill and back up, over and over, and my feet were burning in no time. I only spent six hours there but it seemed like 16.

Because of me being new in her life, the trust on her side was zero for me. One of the many rules is to  hang on to her where ever she goes. Well, she didn’t like that and she showed me with her words, her hitting and slapping me. I feel like I have been beat up.

I am trying hard to think maybe it is still too soon from losing Al,  that maybe this work just isn’t for me, but I don’t think so. I think I just don’t like being slapped around like a dead piece of meat. I pray and still ask for your prayers that God leads me into a new door. If he wants me to remain at this house week after week, I am going to have to order a new pair of feet and new arms. With my own balance issues you can probably picture the two of us unsteady beings trying to walk up and down hills. Oh how I am so glad I am home.


Wow, What a Day


When I went to bed last night the winds were howling and it was snowing. This forced me to pull the covers up closer and gave me a quiet moment to reflect on yesterday. Visiting Al was something I wish I had dreamed last night, but instead it was a day time reality.

When I went in to see him the first thing he did was complain about how long it took him to get dressed. He stated that it was a half an hour. I asked him why he didn’t get help from the aid standing near by and he told me he got dressed alone, except for his socks and shoes.

I had also taken him some of those soft sugar cookies with yellow icing and sprinkles on top. Are you familiar with these? You buy them in the bakery area. I will grab some for Al when they can be bought on the day old rack. I had them first here at home so I had managed to stick my fat little fingers in them first. By the time I had placed them in Al’s fingers there were two missing.

I believe there are 10 cookies total in a package. So when Al and I were conversing he also told me that the nurse the night before reamed him about how many cookies he had eaten. This upset him quite a bit as he explained to me that he told her the cookies weren’t full when he got them. What I don’t understand about the cookie issue is, the facility states they can not refuse Al any food. He had been eating himself all most sick and so a few months ago Al and I started doing his menus for each week. This is stuck too and Al can’t change it without my approval. So why was the nurse on him about the cookies? Even if she was genuinely concerned according to the facility they can’t stop him. So why get him all keyed up and go into the guilt and crying trips?

He said she didn’t believe him. From there on out it was a mess. I was there for about three hours and he had changed to talking to me in a way I could understand to either totally messed up or the Parkinson’s Dementia.

His biggest upsetting story was that usually he goes potty right after breakfast but this time he didn’t have to go. He told me that the aid said he would go so she placed him in the door way of the bathroom and made him sit there until the desire came for him. He stated that he sat there for an hour.

My biggest problem is not what you would think which may be the tears. No my biggest problem is while he remains in that place whom do I believe? Of course, I want to believe Al. He is my brother and has been known to lie to me in the past. His mentality is about 10 years old and maybe you can remember or even have kids around that age. If they think they are going to get punished they may lie instead of speak the truth. That is where Al would fall into the category. But to just outright lie is not his nature.

I have to also take into consideration that people who see animals on the floor smiling on them may be confused about the story they are telling.

Al was still upset during lunch but when his food came it did deter his mind for a while. After lunch he was right back at the same story. His issue was that the nurse that he told about his morning didn’t believe him. Which was that he dressed with no help and the cookie ordeal.

Another thing I learned is that some Dentist I did not know came into his room yesterday and got Al to check his teeth. When Al mentioned to him that his sister had not told him about the visit, the dentist replied, don’t worry , the insurance will pay for this.

There are strict rules that no one is to be in Al’s room without my permission and knowledge. I have a couple of reasons that I won’t go into now but I have always told Al that if a professional or not wants to see him, I must know about it first and then I will tell Al.

After all of this had gone on for so long I asked to see the head nurse in charge of the building. I explained to Al that I would look into all of this. It was the only way I could satisfy Al and also let him know that I believed him.

Whether I believed Al or not, I will still act on his behalf and try to dig to the truth. When I had my short little meeting she denied anything I said. She said,

Al always has someone in his bathroom when he gets dressed.

You know that Al gets very confused.

You gave permission for him to see the dentist.

Now first of all Al is up and dressed and down to breakfast by 8am. How does this charge nurse know what goes on early in the morning when she doesn’t arrive until 8am.

I realize Al gets confused, but I have always believed that even the biggest rumor starts out with a bit of truth.

The Dentist, right before Christmas I received a snail mail stating Al was going to be going to an out-of-town visit to an eye vision shop for an exam. First of all with all the good doctors right here in town why would they take him a  half hour drive a way. Secondly, when I received the letter I called plus went in and told them Al had just been to an eye doctor in October for an exam and new glasses, so this was unneeded. I also told her at that  point and time that because of Al’s issues I had particular doctors that I wanted Al to remain with. Therefore we would not be needing their doctors who are linked to the facility’s accounts.

The charge nurse took me up to the nurses station and pulled Al’s file. She showed me where I had signed on the dotted line on the day I had brought him in that I did give permission. Evidently when I went in December than about the eye exam nothing was actually changed on his file from my request.

I don’t know if someone forgot to do it or if there is a kick back of a resident using their choice professionals. I lost on that one and now have to start over again on Monday to try to get this changed once again.

When our little chit-chat was over and I tried hard not to catch the ball of guilt I was thrown and the head nurse trying  to make me realize Al was a patient there and therefore out of his mind, I went back in to see Al. He was laying down with his bed alarm hooked to him. He was crying and getting a little loud with his words.

His point he was trying to make was that when he first lays down they hook the alarm to him and place it on the back of his shirt. But when he is tired of TV he likes to flip over to his stomach and go to sleep and he can’t because it sets the alarm off. He has moved too much. What he was trying to express but the nurse didn’t understand was that he needed someone to release the alarm when he flipped over and then reattach it. Al’s mental issue isn’t connecting to the fact that all he has to do is turn his call light button on when he wants to flip over and they will change the placement of the alarm.

The nurse went on and on about how she had to keep it out of his reach, and she wasn’t changing her mind. She and Al argued for several minutes while I watched the ugly scene happening.

I finally stepped in and told her what he was trying to express but she either didn’t get me or by then her nerves were frazzled from talking to Al. So this went back and forth with the conversation being from the missing cookies, to no one helping him get dressed, being placed in the bathroom for an hour , to the alarm.

Once again I left Al crying and feeling like no one cared or understood him. I told him I loved him and that I would see him soon. I went to my car and called the doctor. I explained most of what happened. Now they are arranging a special doctor to come and see Al to see how he is doing and if they can do any medication changes.

I want Al to be content, but  I don’t want him all doped up. Seeing him all drugged up to keep him quiet is like me watching  him just lying there waiting to die. There was no talk about whether Al was telling real stories or not. It was all about how can we change this to keep him quiet.

I don’t know what is going to happen but I told the facility and the nurse from Al’s doctor that I demanded a visit with this new doctor  right before he went in to see Al. In fact as I am sitting here thinking about it I may do this plus be there during the visit. I just don’t trust all doctors, sorry. And since Al can’t speak for himself, I do.

I want to be informed of what thoughts this new doctor has. I want to be informed of what changes he may want to make with Al’s medications and I want to know the side effects and changes I can expect.

I am now to a point where I want Al comfortable but not so drugged up he is out of it, but I don’t know if I can have this happen or not. I am not sure if Al told all the truth or bits of it or if Dementia was involved. I don’t know if the facility is telling the truth or protecting themselves.

All I know is that I can’t wait to get Al home. It will be my eyes that see what is happening and I won’t have to hear second-hand stories. The more Parkinson’s advances the harder it is to keep him calm but I am darn sure going to give it my best shot.

Al Fell Again and Still I Was Not Called Right A Way

The Cleanest Floor You Will Ever See

I haven’t posted since earlier this morning for two reasons, maybe I should say three. 1. To give you all a break from my frequent posting. (I’m sorry, I can’t help myself. I guess I am a chatterbox.)

2. I did some remodeling in my living room and that took the bigger part of the day.

3. I received a phone call this morning from a nurse at Al‘s facility. This call has been on my mind all day. Let me tell you something, there is no rest on the weekends for the wicked. Except I am not wicked.

At 1am in the morning someone noticed Al was not in his bed. They went to his bathroom and he was on the floor. The report was that he was on hands and knees so they didn’t consider this a true fall. They said he was fine. She told me he had a small rug burn on him.

I am thinking small as in the small bruises that he received two weekends ago when he fell. Those bruises were the size of peaches. I kept fussing with myself whether to go in or not to see him. I was wrapped up in my home project and they told me he was fine.

I did not end up going but there is part of me that wishes I did. Tomorrow I will be in there for sure. The nurse told me that Al got rude with her. I hear this word quite often, rude. Al’s mood and personality has seemed to change these past weeks. He smarts off they say. He is rude I hear from them.

I called a good friend of mine who has a family member who has Parkinson’s farther along than even Al. I asked her if this could happen, the personality change. She said absolutely yes. Caused from PDD, Parkinson’s Disease and Dementia.

She said that he may have said it and then possible later he wouldn’t even remember it. I know different times I have scolded him for his rudeness and he starts crying immediately stating he never said anything like that at all. I back off because I have no proof one way or another.

The strange thing to me about the call is I don’t like being called 8 hours after the fact. I have told them repeatedly to call me as soon as they know he is stable. I don’t give a hoot if it is in the wee hours of the morning or not. I want to be notified. I want the choice to either go in or not to check it out. This is not the first time this has happened.

His last fall they told me almost 48 hours later. The other thing that bugs me is how in the world did he get a rug burn? The only rug or carpet in the whole building is in the hall. This has me puzzled if he was on his hands and knees. Did he fall and was trying to get up? Did he go head first like he usually does? But still, how did a burn come on him.

The nurse told me that he told her he wasn’t going to  use his call light anymore because he waits so long for staff to help him that he pees his pants, and he gets very embarrassed when he wets himself. The wetting himself is happening more and more often. I don’t think it has anything to do with Al holding it or not. I think it is the PD.

I have asked before about putting a Bed Alarm on his bed and his recliner. They declined my suggestion stating Al doesn’t want it. They think he will become agitated and cause more rudeness or attitude for them. I say get the alarms and use it. The loud noise may scare him enough and remind him to put the call light on. He does forget to use the light. This has been an ongoing issue for some time.

I asked his neurologist about it last week and he said Al doesn’t want to fall intentionally. His Dementia is causing him to forget. In Al’s mind he just assumes he can walk so he gets up and tries.

Monday morning first thing, I am calling Al’s doctor and telling him about the falls that are happening more and more. I am going to ask him to write a doctor’s order for bed alarms. I have no doubt he will do this for me and Al’s safety.

Why did they wait so long to let me know…………Sorry friends, I am still upset over this. Tomorrow a new day, a new challenge, and a promise of hope.

I Wished

Book of Answers

Book of Answers (Photo credit: Caro’s Lines)

My spirit is restless this morning. I was awakened by the phone ringing. It was a company I have been working with in regards to  getting Al  out of the nursing home. Al is restless and unhappy. I don’t remember him being like this when he was here with me.

Not that our home is close to heaven; but I believe Al’s attitude has changed towards life itself. I had called to see why he did not go to a certain program last Thursday on his outing.

No one that I questioned at the facility knew the answers. I should not say this but I am thinking it, so why not go for it? How can a facility work together day after day and yet when a question is surfaced not one person in any of the departments knows the answers.

It just floors me or maybe I am too impatient. I ask and I do not receive. I am so bad at handling the unknown. I move throughout the hours and days like a mechanical doll. In the head sizzling, is the question that you try so hard to patiently wait to get the answers.

I may have Al placed and I have more quiet time here at home, but sometimes I wonder if expecting Al to receive better care because there is more staff than just me at home was such a good idea.

Now I am faced with the challenges of going through the linked chain to get help.  It seems that the priorities that need to be worked with for Al can not be done. The state will not allow the staff to become too closely involved. They can admit him, take all of his money, give him medications, make sure he is encouraged to eat three meals a day etc. But, they can not stop the weight gain, the lack of socializing Al needs and wearing the same clothes day after day. They can’t work on issues Al has unless it is through a physical therapy department.

I am just a rambling on mess. I am to the place that I don’t know how to fix things any longer. Should I toss this whole process as if I am putting a dirty dish cloth in the washer? How far do I go before I have dug up the foundation of this staff?

I finally got my answer this morning through the phone call. Al did not want to go to the day program. He was upset. He always knew that when I said the word outing, it meant fun and hopefully buying a coca cola item. He got angry that he could only take a few dollars with him because he wanted to take out all of his money in case he found a coca cola deal. Well maybe I should add another weight to my shoulders and blame myself for trying to make Al smile. I did take him a lot of places. So now I pronounce my own self guilty.

I get it to a point. We all want to get what we want in life. It is our human nature. The difference is when Al was here I could reason with him. No one seems to be able to reason with Al at the facility. I can’t sit here and blame his new home. Maybe it is the confusion of his Parkinson’s Dementia. Or maybe Al is simply throwing a tantrum.

But I do know that he was looking forward to going to the program because as he said, he was going to get to see all of his old friends. Now through babbling on like a blooming idiot, I have finally keyed in on the point.

Al isn’t recognizing the effects of his behaviors. He was asking me why he didn’t get to go to the activity when he is the one who told staff in anger and hurt that he didn’t want to do anything if he couldn’t have some of his money.

Now I see a child throwing a fit. Should I pounce on Al and let him know this is all  his fault? Let him see that his anger and hurt by not getting what he wanted ruined his own trip? Does he get it, or is it too complex for his thought process?

This is where my mind swirls and before I even had my coffee cooking a way, my mind was already a jumbled hurting confused mess.

You see one of the things I love about myself is I can move forward if I choose to. Now I am in constant state of being on hold. When the professionals don’t have the answers, who does? When they don’t have the answers, who does?

I can’t make any hasty decisions because I am dealing with a delicate unbalanced mind. I don’t want to upset the so-called apple cart. I sat on the bed and thought about it for a while. I then decided to go in and talk to my brother today; but I wanted back-up.

Not for the reason of my safety, but for the professional words to help guide me through the explaining process of what I wanted to say to Al. I called the facility and was told the lady I needed to talk to just stepped into a meeting that would last for 15 minutes.

She was going to give her the message to call me as soon as she stepped out the door. It has now been one hour and ten minutes and still no phone call. Instead of tossing this over my shoulder, flipping on my radio to turn my brain on auto, I will sit here and stress because I can not get the answers. Sounds impatient doesn’t it? I may have to admit that I am a little  this morning. But when you had a tiny puddle of mud in the beginning and after months of digging in it, you now are standing in a pool, I tend to lose that good patience quality.

Some things were just so much easier when he lived here at home. It was his and my decisions. It didn’t include 25 departments and hearing too many I don’t knows. Life was simple, when I look back. All I dealt with then was his sadness and depression. Now it is constantly looked at as how to fix it. This includes many meetings with hope built-in to them and walking out still unsettled. The alternative is to keep giving him more and more medications until he is a zombie in a restless mind and body.

I just wish now at one of my weak moments that Parkinson’s would fall off the face of the earth. I wish that I was asking Al what he wanted to do today. I wish that I had not placed him where money became the object. I just wish. Wow, I am tired all ready and it isn’t even noon yet.

She Says, He Cries, I Think

US Navy 100607-N-6410J-036 Physical therapist ...

I hear my voice saying calmly, it is alright, we will blame it on the dementia. You didn’t mean to, it is not your fault, but on the inside I am yelling at this PD. Two good days in a row, hardly any tremors, and this is including the day today.

The therapist comes and gives Al exercises to be able to strengthen his arms, so the goal of lifting the full glass up to his lips, instead of lowering his head to the glass, might be accomplished. While the therapist was here, she was telling me that Al is improving, that he has made progress in this one week they have been here.

Inside of me, I am saying show me where? Show me where the tremors are laid back for days. Show me where he did quit soaking the bed? Tell me that now I will not have to cut food up nor feed him. Tell me he can walk better than yesterday.

As the therapist was using plastic, empty cones, laying them on the floor and asking Al to pick them up, which he did, she looks at me with a big smile, and says see? he can do it. I said, yes, he can, the glass is empty. She looked at me and said nothing.

The therapist also said that he had a low-grade fever, and I have  heard Al complain the past two days of having a dry mouth, even though he is a huge drinker of water. I told the nurse who came this afternoon what the therapist had said, so she listened to his lungs and took his temperature. Now the lungs are clear, and the temperature is only 97. I see nothing wrong, she says. I mentioned that all morning Al’s voice was raspy and I could hear something rattling when he talked. She advised me to keep an eye on it, but she thought nothing was wrong.

My coffee pot went on the blink this morning right after making me my coffee, so I have to consider this an emergency, and with the therapist suggesting to buy Al a two-handled cup, I said we will get it today, because I must have my coffee.

We go to Wal-Mart and I buy us some lunch at the inside restaurant, Sub-Way, then after done, we go to the grocery aisles and get him some orange juice for breakfast, since he was out. Next, we went to the small appliance department  and I saw the coffee maker that I had at home, but guess what, the only coffee makers they had on the shelves were the expensive ones. I glanced around to see if there were any employees around, and as usual, there was not.

I asked Al if he would like to go over to the toy aisle and pick out a cheap car, that cheap is what he could afford this week after buying an expensive car last week. I asked him if he remembered how to get to that department, and he nodded yes to both questions.

He left on his scooter and I grabbed the first employee walking by, and I guess I was not very nice, because I asked her why is it every time I come here to get something much-needed, all the shelves are empty except the expensive ones. I reminded her that with the economy being so bad, they needed to keep the shelves stocked with the common priced ones. She didn’t deserve it, and why I acted that way, I am not sure, but she did go back to the back and look but came out empty-handed.

I did not want to tackle getting Al in and out of the car more than I had to, so I picked out one of the brands I like that was common priced, but it had no timer on it, so now I have to start it in the morning instead of waking up to heavenly coffee. Oh well, it won’t kill me, but it was a nice luxury for me.

I then went over to where Al was and he had a pile of cheap cars in his cart. I think my eyes bugged out, there were so many. I explained that we could not have more than one today, and he said he didn’t know that, that he had heard me say cheap, which each one was $3.59, not bad price, but over $.99, but when you add up several, it cost a lot! He started crying saying he had messed up again,and that his brain is so confused. I told him to pick out the coolest one of all, and he could have that one, but needed to put the rest back, which he did, with no fuss. He kept telling me he just didn’t understand, and I believe him, other wise he would have been throwing a fit to keep all of them, but he did not do that.

So tonight during supper, we were both eating and he tells me the bucket is missing. I ask him what bucket and he says the grey bucket. My mind is going to the movie I just watched yesterday, the Bucket List, and he says it is missing. I question him some more, and then I got it. He was saying to me that the bucket for the commode was missing.

All of a sudden I put my fork down, as I was no longer hungry, because my mind was picturing the mess I was in for when I went in to his bedroom. I went in there and saw no urine on the floor and sighed a sigh of relief. I lifted up the lid, and the lid was on the bucket, but the lid was full of pee. He had peed on the lid thinking it was the bucket.

When he finished his last bite, I told him the bucket was there, and he argued no it was not, and so I took him in and showed him the urine on the lid, and he said that I had placed the bucket back for him,and asked who’s pee was that. I told him that the lid was on top of the bucket and he had accidentally peed on the lid instead of taking the lid off peeing in the bucket. He cried again, and asked me what is wrong with his brain, that it is all messed up. I told him not to worry, that it was an accident, and I would clean it up. He walked out of his room crying and asking himself why he can’t remember things and why he screws up all the time, and then he looked back at me with big tears, and said, I really try Terry, I really do try.

I started crying immediately. My heart was breaking. I felt his pain and embarrassment. On one hand you have therapists and nurses saying he is improving, but in other areas they are deteriorating. Dementia is moving in faster and faster, he could pick up an empty, plastic cone with the therapist, but at supper he could not pick up a plastic half-filled glass. He cries wanting to know why he is messed up, and he didn’t realize prices at the stores.

I don’t know how to feel anymore, I feel confused. I tell myself to get hard-hearted, but I struggle with that. Nurses and doctors say he is in the beginning stages of five, the final stage. The nurse tells me today, to expect things to move quicker now, and that tremors can almost disappear in the fifth stage. All I know is Al is sick, and his body is changing and so is his mind, and as bad as I want to believe that he is improving, I only see him getting worse, when you look at the whole picture.

This Explains

There are two wonderful people, in my eyes, that are worth, tuning everything and everyone out, in order to hear every word, and those two people are, Joyce Meyers, and Dr. Charles Stanley.

I have emails sent to me from each of these people, and they are also on my Facebook.

You all know that I question why God lets the sick that have long illness remain on this earth and doesn’t take them home. It doesn’t seem fair to me, that they should be left behind to suffer, sometimes more than others.

Today, as I was reading my emails, I came across Dr. Stanley’s motivational, and it spoke directly to me. Now I am not going to kid myself and say that I understand every single word, especially, since Al, is unable to do so many things for himself. He can not get out and witness to neighbors, or travel across the oceans to help others, but he is a believer of God. What God’s purpose is for him, in his condition, I do not know, but after reading this, I know that I can be a little more patient, and accept God  has a purpose for Al’s suffering. There is a reason he has not taken him home.

I have allowed my mind to get too involved with every word that Al speaks of death. I get worried, and become more alert to his actions, in general, causing me more stress and grief. It is hard to not get involved, being his sister, and also being his caregiver, but I need to back off. Friends on here, have helped me come to realize, I can not worry, it helps none. I can not try to change his thoughts, they are not mine to change, but I can listen, and still have a life of my own in these four walls.

I will continue to write often about Al, because I need someone to share my concerns with, and yes, I will still worry, but it helps to get things off my chest, and be able to live through out my day. I need to hear your comments, and I need to feel your support, and if I don’t write about Al, I won’t get either, but I am glad that I came across this motivational, because on top of your help, this also has helped me.

God has a purpose for your life. If that weren’t true, He’d have taken you home to heaven at the moment of salvation. Do you ever wonder why He left you here?

The Lord intends to influence others through you. Our purpose is to be a vessel through which Christ overflows to others–touching those who hurt and desperately need a Savior. Once we are saved, Scripture teaches, our involvement is threefold.

First, we love others. Jesus clearly stated that this was one of the two greatest commandments (Matt. 22:38-39).

Second, we share the good news of salvation (Acts 1:8). Some travel across the world to spread the gospel, while others teach neighbors across the street. The Holy Spirit will direct us to the right people if we are willing to obey.

Third, we serve in a variety of ways, like helping those in need, sharing our resources, and lifting others in prayer. Jesus is our perfect example of all three. His entire life was marked by caring for people–both those who loved Him and those who did not. In fact, the Bible teaches that He humbled Himself and became like us, willing to give up His life for our redemption. There is no greater love; there is no greater act of service

The Holy Spirit depicted as a dove, surrounded...

The Holy Spirit depicted as a dove, surrounded by angels, by Giaquinto, 1750s. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)


From Morning Until Noon

My name is Will or Policeman as (arresting) model

My name is Will or Policeman as (arresting) model (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I felt a sense of genuine loneliness when I awoke this morning. I

dramatic dream

dramatic dream (Photo credit: unNickrMe)

had a dream, and it was only the last part, as I was coming around that I remembered. I had met a nice policeman, who was also single. He liked Al very much. He came to the house and we spent quality time together, along with him fixing things I needed fixed here. The way he and Al got along was more than to my wildest dreams, and then I woke up.

I actually laid there in bed, not wanting to face the day. My heart ripped open for the realization of my dream not being real.

I know my responsibilities though, and forced myself to move forward. I started Al’s breakfast, making fried potatoes, eggs and toast for him. He was out of frozen breakfast items, so I needed to be a fill in cook for this meal.

His caregiver came by and his shower was given. He came out of the bathroom crying. Last night we had another session of going over his fear of dying. No Satan, no God, just fear of death. I took Ed’s advice,a blogger friend on WordPress, and I opened Al’s Bible and found different verses of what heaven would be like. I read to him and marked three for him to look at later by himself, as he needed comfort. I read how all of his pains will be gone. I told him how we would be able to have all of his tremors leave. Heaven was a wonderful place, that there was nothing to fear. After an hour-long discussion, he seemed settled down and the tears and questions stopped, only to start again this morning.

I really miss the other caregiver we had for so long. She was very compassionate and took the time with Al to sit and hold his hand or comfort him with her words. She always left behind a smile on Al’s face when she walked out the door. This new caregiver is here to do a job, a shower. There is not much interaction other than business related.

Soon, I got the tears to stop and we went to the grocery store. It was that time again. It went very well. Al rode the scooter, and watched people pass by. I was able to concentrate quite a bit better, even though the final grocery bill didn’t show it. We were in the store about an hour and then we checked out.

On our way out the door, I asked Al, where did we park the car? Usually, I make a mental note to myself, so I do not feel foolish wandering about the parking lot, but today, I did forget this valuable notation. Al thought we had parked in this one row so we headed down it, but no car. I tried the next row, no car. I was getting a little worried, because Al’s knees were starting to buckle, and I knew he could not stand much longer. I cursed myself for not having him ride the scooter all the way to the car, but it was too late now. I kept him in place and I went looking through the rows. Where was that stupid car?

An employee on her way in to go to work, stopped and must have seen the worry on my face. She asked if she could help me. I laughed out loud, and told her I was looking for our car. She glanced at Al and immediately went back to her car and drove it up to Al and helped him climb in her front seat. Oh wow, what a nice lady! She sat with him while I searched for the car, finding it two more aisles over. She drove him to it, and while I unloaded the groceries, she helped him get into the front seat and buckled him in. She tried to make me feel better by telling me she has also done this before, forgot where she had parked. I thanked her and told her how much I appreciated her help. Sometime before this day is over, I will ask God to bless her for the help she brought to me. Al didn’t fall, and I found our car.

Al is still not feeling well, but he did eat his lunch I have just prepared, but I have noticed that he is lying down now. His legs hurt. He is tired of the tremors. His body is exhausted. Going to the grocery store is hard on him. Actually, every movement he makes is exhausting for him. He is losing sleep because of the tremors, and is starting to doze off more through the days. I hope the rest of the day is better for him. I want to see one smile before he goes to bed tonight.


Smile-upload (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Front left of car

Front left of car (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Jared's Grocery Store Theory

Jared’s Grocery Store Theory (Photo credit: redjar)


Casket (Photo credit: ambergris)


Brains, Brains, I Want More Brains!

English: A photograph of Froot Loops breakfast...

English: A photograph of Froot Loops breakfast cereal in a bowl with milk (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I wish I would have become a brain surgeon, yes a brain surgeon! I would understand how the brain works much better than I do now. If I didn’t get it or understand it, I could go in and make changes. LOL. I am just here to blog tonight, only because I am amazed at how the brain works!

I blogged earlier today, asking for help for my brother and me. Without going further with the same blog from today, I want to comment on how amazed I always am at Al’s brain.

I stated earlier on how I often wonder if he understands and comprehends what I am saying to him as we talk about God and Satan. Sometimes as I leave his bedroom, I am the one more confused.

Tonight, he is in a good mood. The tears dried up from last night and this morning, and he is back to laughing at the animal commercials and people on the television. He is watching Jeopardy now. I am minding my own business, but I can hear him right behind me.

To me this game is beyond me. It is smarter than I am and I do not like knowing that I am dumber than I thought! LOL. On the other hand, Al, loves this show and in most days, he looks forward to it. I am amazed. The tough questions are being asked and the players sometimes know them and sometimes draw a blank, and in the background I hear Al peeling off the answers quite often, and hearing from Alex, yes, you are correct. Al will sit here and laugh, telling the television, you thought you had me on that didn’t you Alex, you can’t fool me, I knew the answer! How can this be?

Did we not eat the same breakfast cereals each morning? Did mom put something extra in his vitamins that I didn’t get? You know, he is smarter than I am. His memory, although he has dementia, is much better than mine, and yet I can not seem to get across to him about Satan being mean and God being good.

It just amazes me, the brain and how it works. The cells making all the right connections to the right areas, and although a big seizure has destroyed many of his cells, he is still so smart. Doctors have determined years ago that he is mentally challenged. Mental challenge does not affect the whole brain, just parts of it. I have worked with mentally challenged people before and I have always noticed that there are areas that they shine brighter in than others.

I hate labels. Genius, mentally challenged, disabled, weird, different, odd. The only way my brain can define this, is we all have stronger areas in our brains that seem to outshine more than other areas.To me, the only correct label here is unique. We are all human beings with brains, but each of us unique.

Well, like I said, I wish I was a brain surgeon, because I would be able to change things in my own head. I would make the change that would allow me to understand more of what is being said. I would be able to completely “get it” when Al starts in on his negativity. I would know the reasoning behind it, and with a quick thought, I would fix it.

Remember the old- time scary movie, Brains? This is how I am feeling now. Brains, brains, I want more brains! LOL