Category: Musings

General Thought Posts not related to specific topics

Parkinson’s Revisited

Because it is important

As the second winter storm of the week makes seeing even across the street difficult, I am staying warm and dry in my Eastern Iowa home. I’ll deal with the snow tomorrow! Meanwhile, we are still getting mail and in it a couple days ago came another packet from Parkinson’s Foundation.

Along with the usual thank you messages for being a faithful contributor and requests for additional support, it included a simple cheat sheet called “10 Early Signs of Parkinson’s Disease.” I am including this list here even though it is clearly stated through the link.

  1. Tremor: Have you noticed a slight shaking or tremor in your finger, thumb, hand or chin? A tremor while at rest is a common sing of Parkinson’s disease.
  2. Small Handwriting: Has your handwriting gotten much smaller than it was in the past? A change in handwriting may be a sign of Parkinson’s called micrographia.
  3. Loss of Smell: If you seem to have more trouble smelling foods like bananas, dill pickles or licorice, you should consult your doctor.
  4. Trouble Sleeping: Do you thrash around in bed or act out dreams when you are deeply asleep? Sudden movements during sleep may be a sign of Parkinson’s disease.
  5. Trouble Moving or Walking: Do you feel stiff in your body, arms or legs? Have others noticed that your arms don’t swing when you walk? If your feet seem “stuck to the floor,” you should ask your doctor about Parkinson’s.
  6. Constipation: If your diet contains enough fiber and water and you are still constipated, it can be a sign of Parkinson’s disease.
  7. Soft or Low Voice: Have other people told you your voice is very soft or that you sound hoarse? If there has been a change in your voice, you should talk to your doctor about whether it could be Parkinson’s.
  8. Masked Face: Have you been told that you have a serious, depressed or mad look on your face, even when you are not in a bad mood? If so, you should bring this up with your doctor.
  9. Dizziness or Fainting: Feeling dizzy or fainting can be linked to Parkinson’s.
  10. Stooping or Hunching Over: If you notice that your seem to be leaning or slouching when you stand, it can be a sign of Parkinson’s disease.

Some of these signs are typical as we get older. I am nearly seventy years old and could point to one or two from time to time. But several, especially in combination, are clearly worth discussing with you doctor.

Last year researchers found a biomarker, a protein named alpha synuclein as part of the The Parkinson’s Progression Markers Initiative (PPMI). The University of Rochester published an article called What You Need to Know about the New Parkinson’s Biomarker that does a good job of explaining the publication of the findings in The Lancet.

The importance of this discovery is that of early detection. It does not pinpoint a genetic root and therefore doesn’t point directly to a cure. But treating PD, even before symptoms manifest, is a step in the right direction.

Personally, I am interested in Parkinson’s Disease Dementia (PDD) and Lewy Bodies Disease, for one of these is surely responsible for Pam’s decline and demise. And all of these diseases, along with Alzheimer’s, relate to alpha synuclein protein.

So, what’s my point?

Besides simple education, I have two goals in revisiting the subject of PD, PDD, LBD, and AD. The first is to impress upon you who might acknowledge the symptoms to get help early. And though there is no cure, the hope is for better quality of life for as long as possible. If you have a family history of any of these diseases, check into testing for the biomarker. It can lead to earlier treatment and, again, better quality of life.

Secondly, there are several opportunities for helping in researching a cure for these diseases. Of course you can donate. Money always helps. The Michael J. Fox Foundation for Parkinson’s Research, the Parkinson’s Foundation, and The Alzheimer’s Association are all dedicated to curing the group of diseases associated with dementia.

There are also opportunities, such as the The Parkinson’s Progression Markers Initiative (PPMI), for contributing your personal information – and more – even if you don’t have or have a history of PD et.al. Take a look.

Pam and I knew so little about Parkinson’s-related diseases when we finally went to see a neurologist. The tremor in her right hand was the first physical sign. But looking back, we, her family, recognize that she was suffering from cognitive decline well before the tremor. Though recognizing the signs earlier may not have changed the trajectory or outcome of the disease, we may have been able to increase Pam’s (and therefore my) quality of life longer. Maybe Pam could have had a chance to enjoy some of her retirement – and we would have been able to enjoy her a little bit longer. So, if you notice any of the above changes, or have doubts about what you are experiencing, please don’t wait for someone you love to tell you there’s something wrong. Take care of yourself and therefore, the ones you love.

Stay warm and dry for the rest of the winter. Stay safe. Stay healthy.

No Travel Plans – I Am Home!

Every week I hope to conjure up some new, interesting topic to write about. Something other than exposing my life and psyche for all the world to see. Once in a while I am successful. The task, however, is made more difficult by shying away from politics and religion. Maybe some day. Meanwhile, I continue to share my inner thoughts and feelings in hopes that the reading is worthwhile and maybe will touch someone in a positive, healing way.

For the first time since Pam’s passing nearly 20 months ago, I have no travel plans. No holidays, no projects out of town, no weekend visits. I have no planned trips to Atlanta (yet), or vacations to plan for. Nor do I have any camping or backpacking trips planned. Though I think about that often. I did, however, book my first gig for February. But it’s here, within a mile from home.

I am home. I sit in my easy chair and look around while I’m on the phone or reading. I’ve been in the music studio a few times since the year began. I view the other end of the large family room to see another sitting area along with my rowing machine. And while I am rowing, I see my studio (funny how that works 😉 )

My home is transformed. Much of the furniture is the same. Some a bit rearranged. Many pictures and mementos on the walls and shelves are as they have been for years. Some have been replaced with ones I found in storage.

I have many reminders of my amazing Pam1. Her Bluebird on the mantel. Pictures of us from our early years together. Always we are close together, always smiling – for real! Sometimes I still buy daisies and alstroemeria, placed in an Isabel Bloom vase on the dining room table. Based in the Quad Cities, their decorative concrete sculptures were integral with Pam’s growing up there. I have many figurines depicting angels, animals, and various holiday representations. I enjoy seeing them around the house. Happy reminders of Pam’s happy things.

As I look, I see that home is now mine. Though I sleep in the same bed, I am beneath different covers. Different towels, mats, and curtains adorn my ensuite. Dishes, tools, and gadgets are organized for my sole use in the kitchen. And from my chair I scan the living and dining rooms to find that they now reflect me, rather than “we”.

Now when I look I have memories. Not forgetting all we had together, nor how we lost it. But not so much constantly reliving the painful times. Beginning to reflectively smile at the good times. I am becoming comfortable at home.

  1. As I navigate through my new life, I am constantly aware – possibly more now than before – of what an amazing human being Pam was. Of course, no one is perfect. But seemingly, her entire being was of love and giving. Always seeing good in people, with the possible exception of herself. Kind. Gentle. Humble. Caring. Loving. Devoted. Sweet. Naive? I am humbled by having been loved by this wonderful woman and by my fortune in knowing her and loving her so intensely. It is truly better to have loved…!

Lost And Found In The Music

Happy holidays to you all! And an honest hope for a happy, healthy, and peaceful 2024!

I woke up Christmas morning with the realization that I had, in deed, been anxious about the coming holiday. I thought I was done with this level of anxiety subsequent to my recent travels and family events. Not so. I didn’t understand why my blood pressure was still higher than normal nor why I found it difficult to sit still during the day or go to sleep at night.

Sure. I know the tendencies of those who grieve to be affected by holidays and anniversaries. I’ve lived it. But I thought I was really doing better. Didn’t I just write about it? So what gives!?

Doesn’t matter. It is so. I cried. No, I wailed. Over and over as the morning passed and the rain (not snow) continued to fall, and the wind continued to blow.

The well-wishes started to light up my phone. “Thinking of you.” “Merry Christmas, Keith.” “Hope your day goes well.” All nice, warm sentiments that I appreciated very much. Knowing that family and friends understood my sorrow forced smiles in the midst of sadness.

By late morning, though, not knowing what to do or how to create a happier day, I found that I wanted to play music. I’ve been practicing with my Alvarez Yairi recently, so I unsheathed it from its case, tuned it, and began to play. First were songs for and about Pam. After all, it is she who I honor on Christmas more that any deity. For she loved the celebration of the holidays so.

So I played. And I played some more. I was lost in my music. Not necessarily playing well. I hadn’t been practicing much lately. It didn’t matter. I was in touch with the sound and the origins of the lyrics that meant so much to me, and that I did write them. I played for an hour. And then another. Taking breaks to rest my hands and voice, wetting my whistle, eating snacks.

From my travels: Lolo Pass, I Look Away, Parkersburg.
Family; loves and losses: When Comes the Time, Rae J, Tell Elizabeth I Love Her, Sarah’s Song.
And, of course, my Pamie Sue: She Sleeps, The Song I Never Wrote For You, Our Lives In Love, Anything To Please.
And many, many more. Covers of Cat Stevens, The Moody Blues, Simon and Garfunkel.

On I played throughout the day. It felt good. I felt better. And I remembered the commitment I made to Pam, shortly after her death, to pursue the music. To follow through with the dream. To give to others that which I have to give. Not amazing, artistic greeting cards as was Pam’s gift, but my music, both old and new. To share myself and those in my life with anyone who will listen and relate, or just enjoy the sound.

The more I played, the more I realized that I am fulfilling that dream. Music is the one constant, the one calming, honest, and true gift that I have to hold onto as I learn to live on my own, without my Pam. And it is due to her that I have been free to write and play for the past almost 30 years. She has been my muse, my inspiration, my collaborator, and my fan.

Now I prepare for the next chapter in what has become the life of a singer songwriter – my life. I have been looking forward to it for a very long time. I have thirteen new, unrecorded, original songs and 6-8 covers that I hope to record over the next few months. Hopefully, I’ll be done by Spring, ready to “hit the road” armed with hours of live music to share. And there are several completed songs that I have yet to practice, to prepare them for performance and recording. Several additional in-progress songs also await in the fringes of my repertoire. I hope I get to them all.

Finding my voice in my music brings me joy and satisfaction. I celebrate my life with Pam, and without her. Being lost in the music is a good thing. I find solace and comfort, able to forget the anxiety of loss during the holidays, and of the challenges that lie ahead. At least for a while, while I play.

Maybe you, too, may find some comfort or consolation. Lost and found in the music.

Still it is difficult to grasp that she is gone.

Gains and Losses

Two Steps Forward

Yeah, I guess this is life! Recently made notes to myself reveal a general improvement in my psychological wellbeing. Such gains are tempered by yet another loss, though only a partial one.

I began to notice subtle changes as I prepared for and experienced transitioning Mom to memory care. I realized early this week that I had been gone every weekend, and over half of the weeks, from Thanksgiving with family in Ankeny, through last weekend with family in MN. I found myself feeling comfortable at home just before the travels began.

Last weekend I was visiting daughters and families in Minnesota. This has been an emotionally challenging trip since Pam’s passing. They are all great and I love them and seeing them in their homes, living their lives. Anticipating this weekend I realized that I wasn’t stressed over possible challenging emotions. Rather, I was just looking forward to being with them. Major – positive – change!

I had lunch with (fellow subscriber) Linda on my way to MN. Linda and I share very similar caregiver experiences (Dave passed 18 months before Pam). And though we continue to compare “notes” about our experiences, we spent at least as much time just talking about family and travels. In other words, we were focused on living our lives now rather than revisiting the past.

I am aware that I am feeling less guilty for feeling good. For the longest time feeling good ultimately led to another round of sadness/depression. How could I betray Pam by not being miserable?! But I actually feel happy at times. I am beginning to enjoy my life as a retiree. It feels good to feel alive again – to trust myself again.

None of these feelings are betrayals. I think of Pam constantly. Everything I do and see reminds me of her. I miss her intensely and tell her so. When I see a reminder, especially of who she was and how she lived life, I tell her that I love her. Though thinking and saying this is probably about me and not her, It is the truth non-the-less. This is what she wanted for me.

One Step Back

On the other hand, leaving Atlanta I knew that I wouldn’t be able to talk with Mom on a regular basis (we chose not to give her a phone, at least for now). I realized this week the sense of loss, in some ways similar to my feelings of losing Pam.

Anticipating such an emotional event does not lessen the impact when it comes to pass. Just like with Pam, I could hardly let my emotions interfere with what I had to do, as a caregiver for Pam, and as a businessman for moving our Mother. The aftermath still includes some management, but there is much more time to feel. Now these new feelings of loss are mixed with those I already had.

Some of my gains are now back in the shadows. I can see them, yet they are clouded by renewed sadness. I know good feelings will return, but I struggle to grab onto them again.

Another cloud looms on the horizon. I’ve seen this cloud before when it was clear that Pam would not survive her disease for long. Mother will be 99 years old in just over a week. She has moderate dementia, but still realizes that there is not much left to live for. She also has stamina! The end will ultimately come. Probably sooner than later.

As I navigate gains and losses, I am sure there will be plenty of both to come for the rest of my life. This is something important that I have learned. Every one is a new chapter that I am ready and willing to live. I still want to – live!

Last week was the 17-month anniversary of Pam’s passing. It was the Tuesday after returning from Atlanta. I was still catching up on – well – everything from the trip. It wasn’t until this past weekend that I realized that the day went by without my acknowledging it. It was the first time. Next month will be a more significant milestone. Will I remember? Probably. Then, on to two years, and beyond. A step at a time.

Words – Impacting Our Lives

If you did not read last week’s post, Dream Within a Dream, I recommend that you do so before continuing here.

Family gatherings such as weddings, funerals, and reunions, evoke normal emotions of joy, sadness/loss, and “Wow! I haven’t seen her/him forever. My how they’ve changed.” Often, however, they bring deep-seated, maybe suppressed, feelings to the surface. Sometimes they erupt with power and major fallout. Sometimes they rise to the surface and are shared as either fond memories, or with trepidation.

Coming together as a sibling team to transition our Mother to memory care was such an occasion. All preparations culminated in a smooth transfer, even some elation, as we sat around the house reviewing what transpired, and discussing our myriad of emotions.

Over sixty years ago our father died at the age of 37. My eldest sister was 13, followed by another, age nine. I was seven, and my little sister was four. Our young lives were in complete disarray, to say the least. So many confusing events and emotions that children should not have to face, but often do.

It was a few days after Mom’s transfer that our emotional history surfaced when our “little” sister relayed her long-held traumatic experience. “After daddy died we were given a contest on who could be the most help to Mom. At 4 I could not begin to compete… I’ve never felt I could do enough or be enough help.“

My eldest sister responded, “ Interesting about contest-you have probably been trying to catch up your whole life!!!!” And my other sister, “I remember the competition. I cleaned out my drawers over and over again. Maybe that’s why I don’t do it anymore.” The youngest, “I remember you vacuuming.”

My contribution; “And I am still convinced that Mom telling me I had to be the man of the family instilled in me a perfection complex and that I could never do enough or get it right.” My younger sister’s response, “Yes and this role you have now fits right into that. And I didn’t want the role because at some level I felt I couldn’t do it.“

My uncle (my Father’s brother) told me years later that he always felt guilty for telling me that “God needed your daddy more that we do“, thinking that it caused some of my adolescent and young adult challenges. I totally let him off the hook when I told him it was what Mom had said that left the lasting impression.

Though my eldest sister did not relay any deep-held reactionary words, knowing her and with a few faint memories, I am sure that she, being several years older than the rest of us, naturally took on the role of surrogate mother, trying to help our overwhelmed, grieving Mother. Mom had been a stay-at-home mother and was thrust into the role of family provider. Thankfully, her friends came to her aid with a job and other assistance. But my sister was often the oldest person at home. I can also attest that she later raised two amazing daughters of her own. Along with her natural bent, she clearly learned much from her early, traumatic experience.

Yet more impactful words:

Eldest sister – “And Daddy telling J to take care of M!!!“
Middle sister – “Those were his final words to me.“
I chimed in – “And Mom’s first words to me.”
Middle – ” I was thinking that Keith!“
Eldest – “Pretty heavy trips to lay on children!“

Though much of this history was known to us, the vivid memories, complete with mental pictures/video of the events, have rarely been shared all at once and together. This single horrific event was amplified and indelibly printed on our brains – with lifelong impact – by our elder family’s words.

As I look back on my family relationships and rearing my children, I know I have my own gaffs to come to terms with. I’m sure we all do. By this time in our lives, I assume that my sisters and I hold no grudges against those adults in our lives as they were doing the best they could. Imperfectly, as we all are.

But it’s something to consider. Are there unresolved consequences of our words and actions on our parents, siblings, spouses, children? On my part, I hope those I have impacted understand that I never set out to hurt anyone. There are few people who do.

And now I’m off to visit many of those people to celebrate the holidays. For me it is really about celebrating our relationships with each other. I am thankful for each and every one. And I hope that for those whose relationships I may have broken, I might still make amends.

May your holiday season be merry and bright. And may those who love you, and those you love, express impactful words of love and, if necessary, understanding and forgiveness!

Dream Within a Dream

Today is Friday the 8th of December. By the time this post is published, I will be on my way back home from Atlanta. I wish I could say that the last eleven days were a rollercoaster of events and emotions, but the reality is that it’s been intense the entire trip.

My Hotel California (it’s her ringtone on my phone) sister arrived the same Tuesday as I, but a while later in the evening. We are here to support my We are Family (yes, her ringtone) sister and her husband Yoav, and my younger sister who lives in Atlanta (To My Little Sister – not a ringtone, but an unrecorded song I wrote for her), and each other through the final stages and aftermath of moving our Mother to memory care. That event took place last Friday, the 1st.

My sisters and I round out our Mother’s biological children. Mom has been staying with, and been primarily cared for by Jan and her husband Yoav for the past four and a half years with Darla’s valuable help.

Continued preparations masked the emotional stress associated with a life altering event such as this. And though we were able to discuss some of that emotion, we could not let it interfere with the task at hand.

Emotional stress can manifest in many different physical and behavioral ways. From cramps and rashes to a spectrum of silence to complete outpouring of thoughts and feelings. The five of us, first with Mom present, then with her absence, manifested several symptoms of both types.

But our time together was just that – together. We have been sharing a common, deeply personal yet communal experience of grief, loss, empathy, fear, and hope. We knew it individually and recognized it in each other.

My sisters and I took walks together, and individually, as we worked through our thoughts and feelings. On one walk I saw an eagle soaring high above, yet nearby. I texted my sisters who came out to see. I don’t attribute any higher power significance to seeing the graceful, flying creature, but experiencing it together was a treat.

As I knew it would, preparing for this transition over the past few months has pushed the loss of Pam back toward the surface of my conscious and subconscious mind. I could feel it lingering and swelling just below the surface. Of course it did. Not as a cataclysmic volcanic eruption; more like a fissure opened with thick hot lava oozing and moving along the surface of my psyche. I was able to express my feelings to this private support group of family. It helped to stem the flow.

Today I woke with vivid awareness of two dreams that actually were a dream within a dream. I was at home in the kitchen looking through the pass-through to the living room where Pam was sitting in her chair. It was a comfortable, normal scene with pleasant conversation. I watched her get up slowly (not normal) and realized, within the dream, that I was hallucinating and that Pam wasn’t really there. As she walked slowly toward the hallway and began to fade, I cried out that I knew it was a hallucination but I didn’t want it to end. Please!!!

I woke to find myself in a strange location, in some kind of garage with screened in, open, door. There were several other people there that I think I recognized, but can’t identify. Sitting next to two of these vaguely familiar co-occupants, I tried to relay my dream, only to have them tell me to get professional help. And so I tried to explain, even argued, that such manifestations of emotional stress are normal with loss and grief, but they couldn’t understand.

Commotion outside. An eagle pounced on a squirrel atop a power pole just down the street. Screeching. Flailing. The squirrel fell, with the eagle in pursuit. But missing that opportunity, it swooped toward a small dog outside a house across the street. Grabbed it. But it, too, got away.

I woke as the eagle was flying low, chasing the dog, who was chasing the squirrel! Now, awake for real, and as you can now see, I was able to recount in my mind exactly what had happened. This, too, was a manifestation of my emotional stress. Played out in a dream within a dream.

Epilogue

We continue to navigate our new logistical and emotional terrain since last Friday. Cheryl went home yesterday to California, and, as I said, I will be traveling as this post is published. Jan, Darla, and Yoav are left to take care of Mom’s daily needs, though in different roles, and they will have different experiences than before. From my perspective it has not been a rollercoaster. Rather an intensely emotional experience that we are all thankful to have shared together.

Life is But A Dream? Or are we dreaming within dreams? Too deep for me to contemplate now.

Anything and Nothing

Musing to my sister of my difficulty deciding on what to write, she suggested I write about nothing. I could write about anything; too broad. Nothing; too narrow.

Where does that leave me? I guess I’ll try writing anything about nothing in particular. But what does that look like? How would it sound? What can I show that you would want to see?

Samuel Clemens, later known as Mark Twain was born in Florida, Missouri on November 30th 1835. He died on April 21st 1910. Both his birth and death coincided with the perihelion of Halley’s Comet. You can read a short, but interesting bio here. Do you know how he came about with the name Mark Twain? I’ve always been intrigued by these tidbits of trivia.

Writing about domestic politics and issues, or world events, is too fraught with diverse and conflicting opinions to share my thoughts and opinions thereof. It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World! Different subject, but it sounds right.

I’m having even more trouble than usual getting into the holiday spirit. I’ve never been good at it on my own, but Pam made it exciting and fun by her joy and enthusiasm, and her loving, giving nature. I don’t think I’m a scrooge. I don’t use any form of the term “bah, humbug”, but I suppose that I come across that way sometimes.

By this date of the year, we would already have at least one card table set up with scotch tape dispensers (Yes, multiple. Got to have the double-sided variety too.), ribbon spools, straight and squiggle-cutting scissors, you get the idea. And it’s not just the big gifts. It’s the little “stocking stuffers” that often delighted her most.

I left home with four inches of snow on the ground. It was a deep and wide swath, as I was through Missouri and into southern Illinois before the last traces disappeared in the fields and in the wooded hills. Enjoying the landscape and topography along the highways and byways as I drive is still a life’s little pleasure for me. I am constantly reminded of how much Pam enjoyed the scenery and we so enjoyed experiencing our travels together.

I also realized on Thursday the extent to which caring for Pam during her illness and grieving for her (and myself) after her death, zapped my energy. Now, however, I am being energized, and I like to think it is her universal energy, through pleasant memories of her, and of our life together. I recognize how her energy enlivens me still. It doesn’t make the pain go away, but I think it does put salve on the wound.

I hope to have something specific to write about next week, rather than anything about nothing. I will try to convey the experience of transitioning my Mother from home care to memory care. But it may be too raw to put into words yet at that time. Meanwhile I continue to consider topics to write about because I enjoy the writing. And based on reader responses, you enjoy it too.

Well, I kind of wrote about anything. But it turned out not to be about nothing. Now that I think about it, that’s difficult to do. If you get nothing out of the reading but enjoyment, that’s something too. In fact, that’s everything my writing is about. And that’s not nothing either.

Behold – Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving

I was playing this song, Behold – Psalm 133, during practice last weekend within the context of Thanksgiving. Thinking about family, thankful that I will be with them on Thanksgiving. I thought of so many things I am thankful for as the holidays approach again this year. Consider playing the song while you read the rest of this post.

The season comes with some trepidation as I navigate through another round of celebrations without Pam. Thanksgiving today, and our 27th wedding anniversary next Tuesday loom largest. But transitioning Mother to memory care, Christmas/Channukah holidays, followed by Mom’s 99th birthday in January, all add emotional weight to the season.

Yet, I am able to be thankful for my family, my health, my neighbors and friends. I like where I live and have settled into an as yet unfamiliar lifestyle – enjoying retirement! I am thankful for my music and my songs and how they might positively impact others’ lives. And Pam follows me on this journey. For she is always in my mind and in my heart. But I wish she was here to share! I miss her.

Behold – A Little Story

I am working on a short story that will include some of this history. Here, I want to share the origins of the music behind this song of a Psalm.

By the time I got to college I was totally disillusioned with my Jewish upbringing. I was a heavy pot smoker and did some other mind-altering drugs as well. I read books of Eastern religions, took Yoga classes, and enjoyed my philosophy class more than any other.

During the fall semester of my Sophomore year I met some people who would facilitate the most significant change in my life. At that time, Navigators was a college campus ministry who’s origins were with the US Navy. I met a young man and a mentor who would play pivotal roles in my conversion to Christianity and total upheaval of my life. But that’s part of the bigger story.

After my being “born again” during spring semester, I headed home to Atlanta, where my parents had moved the previous year, with the weight of wanting – needing – to tell my family about my “good news.” My angst was validated by the icy reception that my good news evoked in my parents and siblings. I found myself alone, with little guidance and lots of questions.

I read. Mostly the New Testament that I was almost totally unfamiliar with. But it made so many references to the Old Testament that I was very familiar with! I read Proverbs, and I read the Psalms. Understanding that the Psalms were put to music a few thousand years ago, I decided to try my hand, developing music for three.

Psalm 38 is a plea for forgiveness and healing. My interpretive song begins with verse 21, “Do not forsake me, oh Lord. Oh, my God, be not far from me.” I really felt it at the time, and enjoy the music to this day, though I don’t play it often. I just realized that it did not make the Catching Up On Life album. Interesting.

Psalm 24 follows the famous “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want” verse of Psalm 23. It’s focus is totally different. It ascribes ownership of everything to God and describes the totality of devotion required to be with God. Beginning with, “The earth is the Lord’s, and the fullness thereof”, I rarely play it anymore.

Psalm 133 I call “Behold.” It is a regular part of my repertoire. I enjoy the sound and the sentiment. It’s easy listening and presents an attitude of thankfulness.

I find it interesting that, as with many artists, dark times often influence creativity. Though I did not write the lyrics, I hope that the music does them justice and is true to the original author’s intent. (I also wish the recordings were better 😉 )

So I am thankful today for everything I have. Everything I have had and lost. For those who have touched me with their lives, and for those lives I have touched.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

Compost Posting

Note: Thanks to Jan for the concept. I don’t know what I would have written about this week otherwise 🙂 You can skip to the bottom to get to the point of all this verbiage if you like.

Cooking for two people is challenging. But usually, leftovers are consumed quickly without much food waste. Open bags, cans, and bottles sometimes remain in the refrigerator too long and their contents must be discarded. Cooking for one creates significantly increased challenges.

Each day and week for many years I’ve been disappointed whenever I throw rotten food or leftovers in the trash, or through the disposal and into our water treatment system for that matter. This coincides with efforts to minimize paper and plastic waste and recycle whatever is allowed by our city/waste management company.

The city offers an option to rent a 20+ gallon container on wheels in which I must place a $1.85 yard bag to fill and put out at the curb for pick up. It would take me weeks to fill, and I would most likely replace it often, adding to the cost. I convinced myself that the “aroma” would overwhelm me and my garage long before. Plus having to find space to keep a third container.

Normal recycling has been and is going well. Now that I am single, I rarely have more than one “trash” bag to put out each week. And with an 85 gallon recycling bin, and all that I recycle, I still only put it out to the curb every two or three weeks. I feel good about that. It may not be much in the scheme of what our society wastes each day, but as they say, “Every little bit helps.”

My son has a large family of seven and a corner lot with a big yard. I envy his energy and ingenuity to build a rain water retention system, complete with solar powered, battery operated pump system to supply water for his extensive garden and small orchard. Additionally, he implemented a two-barrel composting station that supplies nutrition to the garden. He and his family are proactive about saving composting material every day (which can be significant with seven people, even when there are few leftovers – as you can imagine). My daughter’s family saves compostable materials in a small covered can on their counter. There is a convenient drop-off a few blocks away where new insert bags are also freely supplied.

Which brings me back to my plight. Knowing that they, and others, find some way to compost, whether privately or through public options, exacerbates my guilt feelings when I throw too much leftover or old food in the trash! So I researched my options. The least appealing was the city option. With the storage issues and an ongoing payment plan, it was easy to eliminate.

I seriously considered the rotating drum option. But the combination of where to house it, and keep it accessible even in the dead of winter, and the need to keep an interim container in the kitchen or garage, made this a cumbersome, though slightly more attractive option than that provided by the city.

Ah, Amazon! A myriad of options, as usual. Almost so many one can get lost trying to compare and choose. I decided to concentrate on countertop electric composters. Still, many options. Read the features. Read the reviews. Watch the videos. I know you’ve all done the same for whatever device you’ve considered buying.

Having made a decision after days of angst, I purchased the Airthereal Revive Electric Kitchen Composter, 2.5L Capacity with SHARKSDEN® Tri-Blade, Turn Food Waste and Scraps into Dry Compost Fertilizer for Plants. A big decision! Expensive! Worth it!

Composting my coffee grounds, tea leaves, table scraps, even rotten cottage cheese, gives me a feeling of doing something good! I’ve already “made” about a gallon of compost in a couple weeks, running it about every other day. The charcoal filter nearly eliminates any odor (it smells a bit like something is baking in the oven), and the sound is similar to a quiet dishwasher. I am impressed with this unit.

I don’t have a garden – yet. I do have plants and landscaping, and some lawn areas in much need of fill and nutrition. I do have room for a garden. It might be my next step in being food and planet friendly.

Back to the top to wind your way through how I got to the point

“Are You Sitting Comfortably?”

What a question. What a concept.

In fact, I was sitting comfortably, sipping my morning coffee, listening to SiriusXM radio Deep Tracks (Channel 308) from my stereo speakers connected to the TV, when The Moody Blues song asked just that question.

Take another sip my love and see what you will see,
A fleet of golden galleons, on a crystal sea.
Are you sitting comfortably?
Let Merlin cast his spell.

Ride along the winds of time and see where we have been,
The glorious age of Camelot, when Guinevere was Queen.
It all unfolds before your eyes
As Merlin casts his spell.

The seven wonders of the world he’ll lay before your feet,
In far-off lands, on distant shores, so many friends to meet.
Are you sitting comfortably?
Let Merlin cast his spell.

Raymond Thomas

I know I’ve touted the beauty of The Moody Blues music previously. This is another example of how, over many years, their songs continue to speak to me or reflect my current lot in life. Sitting comfortably is something I have rarely been able to do for several years. Yet here I was. Feeling rested. Feeling strong. Aware of my loss, yet not consumed by it at the moment.

Then comes this mystical music and tantalizing lyrics. I’m also a big fan of J.R.R. Tolkien’s Middle Earth fantasies, and of the stories of King Arthur’s court. Raymond Thomas sets the lyrical stage while The Moody Blues weaves its musical spell.

Several challenges face me in the coming weeks. In addition to the traditional holiday season and what would have been our 27th wedding anniversary, my siblings and I are preparing to transition our nearly 99-year-old (January 7, 2024) Mother to a memory care facility in the middle of this time. Sitting comfortably for a few minutes, listening to some of my favorite music that mirrors my emotions, is a true ethereal gift.

Also good is my recognition of such gifts. It is easy, as the days grow shorter and colder, to sink into the gloom with the season. In deed, last year at this time I was pretty much an emotional mess! I’ve been concerned about how I would fare this winter. But though it has not actually arrived yet, my comfortable chair and easy listening offer a glimmer of hope to me and to the season.

I will be with various geographically distant family members over the holidays. Last year I worried whether I could remain emotionally stable – for good reason. I was only marginally successful.

I still anticipate some difficult moments. Last year my family was instrumental (no pun intended) in my coming through the darkness of my grief. This year I am hopeful to enjoy them and celebrate them along with the holidays. I am not a religious person, though I have delved deep into faith and dogma. Nor am I a fan of the commercialization of the holidays. But I do appreciate people. I love people. I love family. And I love our common hopes and dreams for ourselves and each other.

So here I am, sitting comfortably in my office chair, writing these optimistic and hopeful words. I don’t really care who casts the spell. But if it continues to be a good one, please don’t break it!

Tomorrow (Sunday, November 12, 2023) marks the 18 month anniversary of Pam’s passing. I had no concept of the emotional challenges that I would endure nor how my life would change without my other half. I still love Pam and am in love with her. This fact has given me strength to reshape myself into a new life. It is transformed and is still transforming. I can no longer be what I thought I would be with Pam. I can only go on being me without her. Yet, knowing she will always be part of me. In doing so, I am confident that, even with my fits and sputters, she would be happy that I am.

I can sometimes now sit comfortably with that knowledge.