It Could Always Be Worse

OK, Campers, I know that comparing oneself to others is seldom productive, but sometime you just can't help yourself. . .

But when I see what others are going through, I can't help feeling blessed.   (What,  you were expecting some bitterness from me??  Not with my sweet disposition.  ;-). I WILL get better.  A lot of people with crippling ailments won't.

I'm thinking of my neighbor across the street, Shel. He's a little younger than me and had worked for the Post Office.  He was a very active guy, always working in his yard and feeding the squirrels. Then  we noticed he was acting a bit 'off'.  To cut to the chase, he developed some sort of early onset dementia.  He will not get better.  Elaine spoke with his wife the other day and found out that he has moved to a nursing facility, so he can no longer live in the house he loved.  That, Campers, is truly someone bit by bad luck.

But to go on with this theme, it reminds me of my own parents who suffered from varying forms of dementia in their final years.  After my sister Mary died in 1994 and my parents experienced the loss of a child for the second time, they just never came back.  It got to the point where it was dangerous for them to live in their house so they moved to an assisted living facility.  And their reactions to the move varied wildly.  My mother loved it.  She raved about how she could put her dirty laundry outside the door in the morning and in the evening it would come back clean.  She could walk down the hall at mealtimes, sit down, and be fed.  She was snug as a bug in a rug.

My father, on the other had, was miserable.  Now, for a little history, my father was one of the most brilliant individuals I ever knew.  He never went to high school as he was the oldest son In the family and when his father died there was no question that he had to go to work but his thirst for knowledge never ended.  He was totally self taught and knew more about darn near anything than anyone I ever knew.  Back  to the ALF. . .  He tended to exhibit the signs most closely associated with classic Alzheimer's - he was cranky and paranoid.  He was sure people were stealing from him. And the 'stolen' objects were always insignificant, like his 29-cent ball-point pen.  But I think that he was mostly frustrated - he knew that he once knew something but could no longer remember it.

Funny thing was, until recently my biggest fear was that would happen to me. Now one of my greatest hopes is that I will live long enough FOR it to happen to me. Perspective is a funny thing these days.

I guess I have to enjoy these trips down Memory Lane while I can still remember how to get there!!!

Peace and love to all!!
Joe