Memoirs of a Peacemaker

Linda is Free

2010-02-27T09:15:00.002-05:00

On January 31, 2010, Linda Lowrey was set free from the prison of Alzheimer's Disease. Soon I expect to shift my blogging back to this site from the CaringBridge site.

Current blogging in new place

2009-11-11T13:29:00.003-05:00

During this past year I have shifted by journalling and blogging to a CaringBridge site. If you wish to read it there please go to: http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/lindalowrey

Dementia Peacemaking

2008-08-02T08:24:00.002-04:00

"There has been an oceanographic calamity. Five people have drowned. And I don't know if my son is alive."

These words confronted me as I arrived at the Alzheimer's Care Facility at dinner time and was about to sit at the table of four to visit with my wife. I could tell that Terry (not her real name) was very worried. She is in a milder stage of the disease. She can remember many things...but the facts get all mixed together. In this case, she had seen a TV news report of the terrible disaster in the Philippines where a ferry capsized and sank and more than 800 people were drowned. Terry has a son named Harry (not his real name). He lives in the USA a couple of hundred miles from northern Virginia and is able to occasionally come and visit his mother. But today the information in her mind got linked, and she was terribly distraught, believing that her son was on the ferry and it was unknown whether he was alive.

I didn't think of it as peacemaking at the time, I just thought that there was something I could do to help bring a little peace to Terry. So I quickly said, "Terry, I can find this out for you. You know how I travel all over the world and have people I can call in many countries. Let me step outside and make a call and find out if Harry is OK. I will be back soon."

She looked at me with such a desparate sense of hope and said, "Can you do that?"

"Of course I can. I will be right back."

I walked out of the dining area into the hallway, waited for a few minutes, and then returned to the room.

"Terry, I have wonderful news for you. Harry was not on that ship. He is ok. He did not drown!"

Immediately Terry's eyes brimmed with tears and the emotional relief flooded through her. We talked about the joy of relief and good news. And I sat down again to be present with my dear wife, occasionally helping her a little in eating her dinner, sometimes rubbing her back, whispering "I love yous" to one another, the favorite phrase remaining for Linda.

Terry also ate her dinner. But whenever anyone was available to listen to her for the next few days she told this story over and over. Somehow, my personal delivery of authoritative information had been able to slice through the confusion in her mind. Harry was safe. He had not drowned. And Terry had a little peace for a few days.

But this is a pattern of confusion for Terry. The Care Center where she lives has hours when the TV is going for anyone to come in and out and view. Disasters and calamities always get vivid coverage with pictures and live reports. Even the nature channel has shows about animal attacks that to a dementia resident may be perceived as happening right now, right in that area, or as threats to loved ones. So in the last few weeks I have had several opportunities to bring comforting news to Terry when she was freightened. The incidents have included:

"Harry is on an airplane going to London and the plane has no fuel."

"There are huge sharks in the water that are biting off people's arms and killing them. I am afraid Harry is going to be attacked by sharks. Can you call him and tell him to come back home from London and stay away from the sharks?

"You need to be very careful when you go outside. There are bears out there (other times it is tigers). Do you have a gun. You need a gun to protect yourself."

Terry is in a difficult stage of the disease. She still remembers key people. She can take in information. She can remember the information and stay fixated on pieces of it for days at a time. But the information pieces don't get put together in a fashion that is even close to reality. And this new reality for her is terribly freightening. Caregiving, and peacemaking, is a continual process of helping a person hold on to information that is comforting and trying to keep a person from being exposed to information that is freightening.

For my Linda, this is no longer part of her vulnerability. She can not remember the people, take in the information about the external environment, or connect the data in a pattern. So her ignorance of this is more blissful. A blessed relief in a horrible disease.

NOW

2008-07-19T08:37:00.000-04:00

"When there is no way out, there is still a way through...so don't give up whatever you do...

Cause NOW is all there is...so peaceful and still...and NOW you don't worry about whats happened or what will...cause NOW never ends...and NOW's never been...and all of your answers are waiting for you here...Now

when you don't understand how things got so far away from all you planned ... and your life feels so hard in your house made of cards . . .

When there is no way out, there is still a way through...so don't give up whatever you do... "

This wonderful music video by Dave Carroll expresses the feelings and words that are so important in Alzheimer's caregiving.

Enjoy and be inspired and encouraged.

Now by Dave Carroll

2008-07-10T18:49:00.003-04:00

In honor of Linda Lowrey

Alzheimer's Diagnosis

Anniversary and Father's Day

2008-06-15T21:55:00.000-04:00

Thirty-nine years ago today, in 1969, it was also Father's Day. And it was the day of our wedding. I remember so well Linda's father, called "Daddy Joe", giving me a hard time. He was a natural jokester. Linda was the fifth child and had been born seven years after the child bearing time was thought to be over. So she was not only his special baby, she was also the baby doll for the four older children ranging in age from seven to early twenties.

Daddy Joe said, "How can you do this to me? You are taking my baby from me on Father's Day!" I laughed and said, "No, Daddy Joe, you are getting a new son on Father's Day."

My comment was poignant. In the McInnis family, the only son was named Bill, or Billy Joe. He had died in his mid-twenties of a brain tumor. It was a loss that Linda's parents would never get over. The pain of losing a child is unbearable.

Now a new Bill was coming into the family. And Daddy Joe was glad to have me, even though I was taking his baby on Father's Day.

Now thirty-nine years later...Daddy Joe and Sadie are long gone from this earth. And their baby is in the final stages of Alzheimer's without understanding that this is our anniversary. Linda can not grasp the meaning of anniversary and she no longer shares the memories with me of our life together. But she is able to embrace the joy of a moment, to smile, to laugh, to hug, and to say "I love you."

Yesterday I took two balloons to Linda. One was in the shape of a butterfly and the other said Happy Anniversary. She loved the butterfly. I took flowers, and she smelled them and smiled. I sat with her and read from a book that she and a friend had created together of Linda's life and memories when she was still in the early stage of this disease. I love to read these pages to her...even though she does not grasp the words or meanings now. Sometimes, like yesterday, tears begin to roll down my cheek. And Linda responds to my tears with loving eyes, sometimes a pat on my head. Yesterday I said to her..."I love you." And she responded, "I know you love me." It was so amazing. There was a moment of clarity in her eyes, in her voice, and with a sentence she has not been able to say for many months. It was her gift to me for our Anniversary.

Our oldest daughter Bethany helped me figure out how to spend this day...a bitter sweet time but also a day that is Father's Day. I am not only husband and caregiver for Linda. I am also Father to three children and grandfather to five. So we had a picnic with Linda, Bethany, Andrew (age 7), Julia (age 4), and me. We sat on the ground under a shade tree at the care facility. The children played around. Linda enjoyed eating pieces of watermelon with her fingers. Homemade ice cream topped off the day.

Then Linda had all she could handle of people. She needed to walk and be alone. So we left and went to Putt-Putt Golf to celebrate the Father's Day part of this special moment.

It worked. From early morning worship at church, to picnic and ice cream and joy moments with Linda, to playfulness with little children learning to hold a golf club and making a memory with their G'Pa.

This day has been good. We have navigated another challenging moment along this long journey. And I am grateful. One day at a time. That is sufficient.

Bill

Update after long silence and Alzheimer's Prayer

2008-04-24T13:00:00.000-04:00

Dear Family and Friends,
In a few minutes I will go over to Arden Courts Alzheimer's facility, meet our pastor there, and Linda will be served communion. For many months she was able to go to church and with my assistance she could take of the bread and the cup. Now, she is not able to do well in a church service. So our pastor will bring communion to her. For that, I am very grateful. I believe that grace flows in the sacrament even when Linda's mind can no longer comprehend what is occurring.

I found the following prayer on the Alzheimer's Message Board. It expresses so many of my prayers for Linda over these years and is more poignant now as so much of it is true of her current condition. We have now entered into the seventh and final stage of the disease. It may take a couple of more years for it to run its course. But in these times we all continue to care for her when she is so dependent, recognizes so few, can express so few thoughts in words, can read aloud very few words and comprehends even less. And yet she gives to each of us who can be with her. She smiles. She says "I love you" over and over. She is mostly content in the moment. She is calmer now...less of the agitated walking, fewer blisters.

Linda has been an instrument of transformation for me even in this tough journey. I find that I can sit with her in peacefulness or walk slowly around the yard, or bring her home and sit together in our sun room....and I am not anxious to get on with the demands of work or the other activities of life. There is a sacred space in her presence for me. There are so many memories that are worth meditating upon and I am the chosen one who is the custodian of what previously were shared memories. I am the living archive of so much of our life together. So as I sit in her presence...she has not really lost her memories...she just has lost access to them...they are here with me and even more so hidden in the presence of God until they will be returned to her in her future life.

The progression of the disease has continued unabated these last three and a half years. Before that, we got some help from the medication for about a year. But in these last 40 months or so, the inexorable progress of the disease has never found a plateau. For some people plateaus happen. Even now that could occur. But part of truthfulness for me is to look reality in the face and declare that it has no power over us...we can walk through the valley of the shadow of death and have no fear. If the current progression continues, I expect that within the next nine to twelve months Linda will lose much of her mobility and most of the rest of her language. Nothing can be accurately predicted, but this is what I think is reasonable to expect. Sometimes after that she will probably reach a stage where only palliative care will be needed with the support of hospice. If any falls or illnesses or infections invade that escalate the process, then the journey could end sooner. There is such ambiguity in this journey that contentment in each day seems most important.

In light of these thoughts, I am making changes in my work with the assistance of my supervisor and with the recruitment of a friend and colleague to take on some of my field focused work. During the next 18 months or so, I will do many fewer international trips and keep those I do to short times that should not go beyond ten days. I will be more available to oversee the changing care needs, knowing that this could be a bumpy ride and may even require at some point a change in her placement.

Several years ago, Linda told her/our good friend Alice that she had no fear of death. She said to Alice that she knew that when she did not know her family and friends any longer that she would be ready to die and be with the Lord. And she said that she had complete trust that we would all take care of her and love her to the end. We are closer to that period now. And she was right. We will care for her and love her to the end of life on this earth.

May you see yourself and find yourself drawn closer to God and to Linda as you read the prayer below. Instead of "they" you may want to read the prayer putting in Linda's name or she in place of the plural pronoun.
God bless you all,
Bill
_____________________
Dear God,
Hear the prayers they cannot pray.
Listen to the songs they cannot sing.
Comfort them with scriptures they cannot read.
Reward the faith they cannot express.
Cheer them by visitors they do not recognize.
Encourage them by children they have forgotten.
Let them feel the love of the companion
they can no longer call by name.
Grant them your peace in the mysterious place
where they have gone away from us.
Do not forsake them in their desert
of forgetfulness and total dependency.
Abide with them until that glorious moment
when you take them into your eternal presence
where their memory will be restored
and they can again sing your praises.
And they will walk again with dignity,
and they will talk again with clarity,
and they will know all things
even as they are known!
Amen.

Major Wandering Incident

2007-09-29T16:01:00.001-04:00

Friday, September 28, 2007

Today is Linda's 60th Birthday! This afternoon we will celebrate her at Arden's Courts with all her fellow residents and the caregivers and staff. We have big cakes to serve plus ice cream (Linda's favorite food in all the world). Linda laughs when I tell her she is going to be 60. But numbers do not have meaning for her now...maybe a lesson for more of us. I tell her I am almost through my 60th year and it has been just fine. We smile and hug and it says to each other that the relationship not the words are at the heart of our love.

My recent trip to South Africa went well for work. I had the worst email and internet connection in several years at the particular site where I was located, so that made things difficult in staying connected with family and friends. And it was a time when we needed connections.

On Sunday, September 16th, we had a major crisis with Linda that could have easily cost her life. By God's grace and I believe accompanied with angelic escorts, Linda survived safely. My sister and brother-in-law, Emelie and Wood Parker, went by to see Linda after church. While looking for her in the garden area they discovered that a gate was open and Linda was gone. This initiated a dramatic and major emergency search process. At the same time, Linda had walked about a half mile away. She crossed a major highway with six lanes of traffic and two turn lanes. She entered an Exxon station that had a small convenience store with it and began filling her pockets with candy bars.

A very kind and sensitive college age manager tried to get her to return the candy. I think he is Muslim, this is Ramadan, and I am sure he was not going to touch her in his effort to get her to return the candy. But she could not understand what he wanted, thankfully. He called the police on a non-emergency number and kept her engaged somehow for the 10-15 minutes for the police to arrive. The police also told her if she would put the candy back they would allow her to leave but if not they would have to arrest her. Fortunately, once again, she could not understand such instructions. I am so glad she was not allowed to leave into the danger zones again. The police then saw her Safe Return bracelet and found that she was memory impaired. After a call to Safe Return they called our home where Bethany, in the providence of God, had stopped by to use the internet. They asked Bethany, "Do you know where your mother is?" And that is how they discovered she belonged at the Care Center.

The police returned Linda to Arden Courts to the tears and hugs and relief of all those searching for her. Linda does not remember any of this so the trauma is mostly for all the rest of us. Since I arrived home from this trip on Monday morning, I have been very engaged in the investigation and seeing how to insure that Linda is as protected as possible. The investigation shows that a part of an electrical board at the gate had burned out, causing the gate to unlock and the alarm signal to not be sent. No one from the manufacturer or the facility is aware of this having ever happened before. It seems to be a genuinely rare failure of the system. We are taking steps to create additional back ups to make a reoccurrence even more unlikely. This includes changes at the gate, purchase of a clearer medical ID for Linda that has both Safe Return and Arden Courts info on it, and an application to have Linda re-entered into the Project Lifesaver program.

Project Lifesaver is administered by our local Sheriff's Department and Linda had been a participant the last couple of years. It provides an active radio signal bracelet that can be tracked by the Sheriff's vehicles. Once before we had a serious wandering experience with Linda about 18 months ago and they were able to track and rescue her within 20 minutes. I gave up that program when Linda entered the care facility, thinking it was unnecessary with the secure system they had in place. I hope to be able to get that reinstated as a further layer of protection. It will help me know that we are doing all that we can from a human perspective.

The bottom line for me is that God is the ultimate caregiver who superintends her care and I am an instrument along with so many family members and friends who are all member's of God's care team. I am grateful to all who continue to serve so faithfully in this difficult journey we are on.

Linda continues to suffer from problems with her feet caused by her agitated level of walking. I estimate she may be covering 10 miles a day. We are applying the best treatment to these symptoms and have made several adjustments in shoes, socks, ointments and medicines. At the same time the effort to regulate her Risperdal (anti-psychotic medicine) continues. Her dosage is a little higher now and spread out through the day. We are closely monitoring to see if she develops any Parkinson's type symptoms like shuffling steps or other difficulty in walking. Our hope is that by slow careful medicine adjustments we can find a level of medication that will slow down the agitated walking and still keep her very alert and engaged with her immediate world. Pray for us and for Linda in regard to this.

Tomorrow morning we will have a second birthday party for Linda and that one will be a family time. We have so much to be thankful for with the simple celebration of life.

Anticipating moving into a care facility

2007-07-03T16:14:00.003-04:00

As some of you know, I have recently made the decision to place my wife Linda in a specialized Alzheimer's Assisted Living care facility. During the past year her disease progression has accelerated and she is in an advanced stage of the disease. For the past eight months each trip I have taken for work has resulted in significant crises as she is destabilized by my absence. Only the care of many here has made it possible to care for her and continue my work.

This morning I got the call that the room is available for her admission to Arden Courts of Fair Oaks, a Manor Care facility that specializes in Alzheimer's care. I will have to complete all arrangements in the next two days and admit her on Friday morning.

I am taking leave from work these next few days to focus exclusively on this work and then discovering initially who I am when I am alone at home. Even at this stage there is great complexity, including trying to find a way to handle Linda's medicines since my mail order insurance company will not work with the institutional supplier of the facility. Oh, the difficulties and short comings of the US medical system!

I am working with a pharmacist on the 4th of July (bless her!) to have all our medicines repackaged in a manner accepted by the facility. Then Lela will work with me all day on Thursday to handle paper work and move key items into Linda's new room. Lela will spend the night here and on Friday morning I will take Linda out for brunch and then take her to her new home. Lela will do the final moving of bedspread, stuffed animals, and some clothing while I am having this special date with Linda. When I receive a text message from Lela that all is ready, then I will take Linda. After that, I don't know what I will do with myself...quiet, walks, tears, pain, waiting for news, and taking a few days for her to adjust. God help her....and I know the Spirit will be nearer than I can be.

I invite your prayers for both Linda and me. It is a very painful, tearful, and tender time for me. I do not know how Linda will respond when this happens. Her ability to grasp this reality is quite limited...but she is keenly aware when my presence is gone. Pray for her to make the transition to her new home during the few days when I need to stay away from the facility. Pray for the time in a few days when I will be able to visit her again. I hope that her deep soul will not be too angry with me and that she can know that even these steps are out of love and care.

Your friendship and support is beyond measure in value to me. Thank you all.
For those of you who are nearby, soon it will possible for you to visit her and even take her out for ice cream or go for walks with her on the nearly half a mile of sidewalks and garden area at Arden Courts. Give me a call in a week or so and I will advise as the developments unfold.
Blessings and peace,
Bill

Out of Sight -- Out of Mind: Shadowing

2007-05-01T12:46:00.001-04:00

Pushing the lawnmower across the yard could be a moment of private thought linked with mild physical activity. But not so when I turn to reverse my direction and find that my shadow is right behind me.

I say to Linda, "I am going to go upstairs and put up these drinking glasses." She says, "OK." Then on the way up the stairs, two short flights of five or six stairs each, I realize that she is right behind me.

I walk out of the sun room, head down the hall and go into the bathroom, responding to nature's call. And then I notice that her head is peaking around the door...just to make sure she knows where I am.

As I prepare our dinner, moving from oven to counter to sink to refrigerator and back to reach under the sink and toss away trash in the garbage can, I need about a six foot radius to move efficiently. But Linda likes to position herself about three feet away from me, leaning on the sink, watching me closely. She stands just close enough that I must constantly say "Excuse me" as I try to accomplish the task of preparing a meal, setting the table, tossing trash, washing off used utensils and dishes and putting them in the dishwasher before she can take them and put them back in the cabinet as though they are clean when rinsed.

We call it shadowing among Alzheimer's caregivers. It is a common phenomenon.

But attaching a label to the experience does not make it any more pleasant. Sometimes I want to scream. Sometimes I do say, "Linda, just back up a little so I don't bump into you!" Mainly the primal scream lives inside me. The cry that longs for space and privacy remains an inner silent sound.

This need for space amplifies the enjoyment of a little respite time away...even if it is only a solitary walk around the block or an hour at the golf driving range or occasionally a half day off while she is in Day Care.

But why the shadow? What propels her into "my space?"

The old adage "Out of sight, out of mind" came to my mind. But with a little different twist. When I am out of Linda's sight, I am in an unknown place that is beyond her mind's capacity to conceive. There is no data she has to work with. Almost all data points slip quickly from her grasp. She can not remember that I just walked out of the room. She can't hold the thought that I am going upstairs and I said I will be right back. She literally does not know any longer if I am at home or maybe in Lebanon or Sri Lanka or Pakistan. She does not know when I am coming back or if I am coming back. She does not know if this aloneness and confusion she feels right now is something that will always be there. She wonders where I am and feels insecure, because I am the rock to which her little boat is anchored.

When I am out of her sight, it drives her out of her mind. She can't stay still. She must solve this problem the only way she can. She must search for me and bring me back into her sight if possible.

I can not count the times that I have been working in my office downstairs and the door opens. Linda sticks her head in and says, with surprise in her voice, "Oh, there you are. Are you OK?" If I am talking on the phone, I just smile and nod my head. This satisfies her for the moment and she leaves the office for awhile until she needs to search for me again.

"Peek-a-Boo" is a wonderful game for little children. They are learning so much. A child may know the parent primarily by face...so if we cover our faces with our hands, we are gone. Or we may hide behind a door and jump out and say, "Peek-a-Boo!" And the child giggles. We have appeared magically from nowhere. Then suddenly, we step behind the door again and we are gone again. With this game, a little child learns that out of sight is not gone forever. We go away and then we return. Over and over this happens and the child learns trust of the parent to both go away and to return.

Now Linda is back in the "Peek-a-Boo" stage of life. But she is not learning...she is losing. No amount of experience of my going and returning can now build trust and security. The lines are running in opposite directions than that of a little child. She will never know for sure any longer if I will return when I go out of sight. So there is only one solution....

She needs to be my shadow. That keeps me near. That keeps her secure.

And that tests my limits. So when I decide that I must be away....away on a trip....away so I can work....away on a walk...it is a price she must pay. And because I know deep in her soul she loves me, she is willing to pay that price and must pay that price whether willing or not. And I need her to pay that price. Because in our times apart, I am able to regain my strength, renew my inner self, and care for my physical, emotional, intellectual, and spiritual being. And then when I return, I will be a better caregiver, able to embrace my shadow again when the two seem to be one.

Have Mercy . . .

2007-04-17T09:39:00.001-04:00

This prayer is from a chaplain friend who has seen war up close and voices my prayer better than any words I can say on this sad day.

Have Mercy …
God have mercy as sadness fills this day
around our great big world
Especially God hear our prayer here in the USA
where as parents lost a child, a young woman who was yesterday a girl.
God have mercy in our world gone wild
where for such random killing there comes no defense.
Bless the parents of young men, there boy child
as they grieve their loss that will never make any sense.
God have mercy for we are not whole
as we are daily robbed of our peace.
Mend, O God, the tear in our communal soul
that some of the random violence may cease.
God have mercy in the midst of our strife
as we experience chaos continually gnawing away at creation.
God grant us by your mercy new life
as we turn to you daily for our salvation.

Psalm 46:1-5 (KJV)
God is our refuge and strength,
a very present help in trouble
Therefore will not we fear,
though the earth be removed,
and the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea,
though the waters thereof roar and be troubled,
though the mountains shake with the swelling thereof
There is a river, the streams whereof shall make glad the city of God,
the holy place of the tabernacles of the Most High.
God is in the midst of her,
She shall not be moved:
God shall help her and that right early
Victor Ronald Chatham

"This is a real good time in our lives. . ."

2007-04-15T15:47:00.000-04:00

Those were her words to me as we both stood next to the double sink in the bathroom. It shocked me. I would not have described it that way. Sometimes I just wish it could be over. Sometimes, I wonder how I can go on...like today, feeling so tired. During these last few years of our Alzheimer's journey, I don't think I have even once thought "this is a real good time in my life."

So we are two worlds apart.

Can I build a bridge into her world . . . maybe I can lay down my thoughts and concerns . . . for once just live in this second without a thought about the moment before or the days and years ahead . . . just live in this moment. A moment of a smile. A moment when she eats the bread at communion and bursts out words "Hmm, that tastes good!" A moment of looking into the three daffodil's from our yard that are perched on the mantle of the bedroom. A moment in song. A moment of walking around the neighborhood with sun shinning on my face, walking hand in hand like young lovers. A moment of laughter. A moment of memory . . . so many of which are so tender and special over these nearly 38 years of marriage.

If I can enter the unadulterated moment, I will be in her world. And I too will say "this is a real good time in our lives." Help me Lord, for just a moment . . . one moment at a time. . . until that moment when all will be changed.

Psalm 118 verse 24
"This is the day the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it."

1 Corinthians 15:51-57
Listen, I will tell you a mystery! We will not all die, but we will all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed. For this perishable body must put on imperishability, and this mortal body must put on immortality. When this perishable body puts on imperishability, and this mortal body puts on immortality, then the saying that is written will be fulfilled: "Death has been swallowed up in victory." "Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?" The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.

Easter Weekend -- When Symbol is more Powerful than Words

2007-04-07T20:53:00.000-04:00

This Easter weekend has been very special. Words do little for Linda now and they carry few meanings. But symbols, rituals, touch, smell, taste, hearing music, and being in the Presence are still powerful moments in their own way for her as she dwells only in this very precise moment. And when I witness the Presence in her and with her, I am touched so deeply and able to hold the memory for the both of us.

Maundy Thursday was perfect. Maundy, meaning commandment, provides us with our word for mandate. It is a reminder that Jesus, at his Last Supper in the Upper Room, commanded his disciples to continue celebrating the Lord's Supper until He comes again. And He commanded them to serve one another, providing the powerful experience and example of washing their feet. But all these words and meanings which have such depth for me, are beyond Linda's ability to grasp as her brain continues to waste away under the onslaught of Alzheimer's. So Jesus gave us something beyond words that can reach the heart of the brain disabled.

We sat in our church community, straight chairs encircling our large round communion table. It is like Camelot's table, large enough for 13 to come and sit together. And on this night, the Communion scent floated across the sanctuary from the thirteen cups that were waiting for us to gather. To smell add taste of bread and cup and companionship around the table of thirteen. I knew the tradition was for small groups to gather in turns while the rest sat and sang quiet hymns of faith and of this night. Each person was to receive the bread, break off a piece, hold it until all were ready to dip theirs in the cup nearest their seat, then turn and say to the next person, "The Body of Christ, broken for you for forgiveness of sin." I knew Linda could not remember those words long enough to say them, and might not be able to tear the bread as it came to her. So I sat and pondered how to make this work for her.

The bread was moving clockwise. So I needed to sit to Linda's left so she would not have to say words to me. But who would have Linda on their left? Who could understand intuitively? Aha, our Associate Pastor, Rev. MaryAnn was sitting at the part of the table nearest us. She would get it, that Linda did not have the ability or understanding to tear the bread or share the words. I placed Linda to MaryAnn's left with me to Linda's left. I knew MaryAnn would do it...and she did. She started to hand Linda the loaf of unleavened bread, but then quickly read the need, broke the bread for Linda and handed it to her. Knowing Linda could not share words for me, MaryAnn leaned over, passed the bread to me and gave me the words, thus giving Linda grace.

Waiting even seconds requires more memory than is left for Linda. There she was with bread in hand. What should she do? Not remembering to wait or what to do with the bread . . . Linda ate it in a moment. So when it was time to dip the bread, I took a common cup for the two of us, shared half of my bread with her and together we dipped our common bread and ate.

Ah, what grace was flowing, bread and wine, body and blood, tender love for the demented and those assumed to be of sound mind, all on common ground at the foot of the cross.

And then it was time for foot washing. Another treat of touch. I helped as Linda and I took off our socks and shoes. Then we waited in our chairs to watch as others began to go forward to wash and be washed, to give and to receive. The quiet songs of prayer and praise with piano accompaniment were perfect atmosphere of Spirit.

Then I saw that Rev. MaryAnn was bringing her young daughter Caroline to help wash someone's feet. It dawned on me, what a perfect gift if Linda could help wash little Caroline's feet...a four year old child . . . sitting in a place of awe, and fun, and with limited understanding.

No one dared to get in line next . . . our place was being safeguarded for us by Angelic hosts. So we went. We knelt on the floor as Caroline's feet dangled in the air well above the basin. Linda was distracted by water on the floor. But as I lifted water in my cupped hands to Caroline's feet, I was able to help guide Linda to do the same. Child to child. What joy there must have been on the Savior's face!

Afterwards, Linda sat in the chair so her feet could be washed. I stood next to her, holding her hand. A woman came and washed Linda's feet with such tenderness and yet firmness and even with massage strokes . . . I almost lost all composure just being a witness. Then I sat with Linda standing next to me. Another woman washed my feet as Linda stood by me. Oh, what a privilege to be partners along this journey.

As we left the Maundy Thursday service in silence, there was so much to meditate upon. Words were not needed. Wonder was present.

And Good Friday was just a continuation for me, for us. The simple but numerous candles cast both light and shadows in flickering arrays across the sanctuary. Slowly the candles were extinguished as the service and the readings progressed. A slide show of images gave amplification to the words that were read by unidentified women, men and youth scattered around the slowly darkening sanctuary.

The drama of the crucifixion played out in our presence. A wooden cross stood in the center of the encircled congregation. All were invited and welcome to write their sins on pieces of paper, move forward to the cross, pick up one of several hammers, and nail their sins to the tree. We sat in awesome silence and listened to the tapping of the hammers. He was crucified. We are forgiven!

I knew this would be too confusing to Linda if we tried to write sins, go forward, and tap a nail into the cross. So we sat still with a close friend. We listened. We watched. And in my heart I confessed for there are so many pages that must be nailed to the cross from my life.

For more than 24 hours I have been on the edge of tears...and once again I am there. They are good tears. But they usually must be shed alone. It is confusing for Linda when they are shed with her now. Sometimes along this journey of nearly five years now, I have wondered if I will "feel" the Presence of the Lord again or if I will simply walk by faith and a deep assurance that He is present. But this weekend, I have known and felt His presence in a wonderful way. Grace has broken through like fresh springs from deep within the earth. There is life here, even as I am acolyte to dying.

I must go now . . . every few minutes Linda opens the door of my office to ask if I am OK. It means she is needing to find me often now. And she needs me to prepare a meal. So we shall share a meal together...and it will be our last supper before the resurrection morning.

I think I will sleep well tonight. And on Easter morning, I will arise from my bed early as Jesus arose from His grave. This resurrection power is what it takes for this journey. And it is offered freely at the foot of the cross.

I receive it, Lord.

A Lenten Reflection

2007-03-03T12:04:00.000-05:00

I wrote this reflection for my local church as a part of a Lenten Devotional booklet. It was written for Wednesday, April 4, 2007, but actually it applies to any day.

Scripture Texts:
Psalm 27: 13 I believe that I shall see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. 14 Wait for the Lord; be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for the Lord!

Philippians 4: 5 Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. 6 Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. 7 And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

It is four days until Easter Sunday. Not so long. But also, not tomorrow. Four days can be an eternity when darkness is closing in, when hope is dim, when pain is pulsating through one’s body, when loneliness or depression seem to create a hollowness inside that could lead to this fragile vessel’s collapse from outward pressures. How long will it be for me until Easter Day, and can I go on until the resurrection comes?

For some of us, each day is a test. It is the time of wilderness wanderings rather than a time of joyfully skipping down the path of life. Everyone goes though such times, sometime. And for some of you, this is your time. So if that is where you find yourself this day, four days before Easter, there is need to just get through today. How does one do that?

The prophet Habukkuk wondered if he could go on. He wrote, “O Lord, how long shall I cry for help, and you will not listen? Or cry to you "Violence!" and you will not save? Why do you make me see wrongdoing and look at trouble?” (Hab. 1:2-3)

In my lifetime, Martin Luther King, Jr. knew that his people were growing weary in their journey. And so he urged them to keep on believing. In 1965 in Montgomery, Alabama, just three months before I graduated from high school in Mississippi, King gave a speech titled “Our God is Marching On.” He said,

And so I plead with you this afternoon as we go ahead: remain committed to nonviolence. . . .

I know you are asking today, "How long will it take?" Somebody's asking,"How long will prejudice blind the visions of men, darken their understanding, and drive right-eyed wisdom from her sacred throne?"

Somebody's asking, "When will wounded justice, lying prostrate on the streets of Selma and Birmingham and communities all over the South, be lifted from this dust of shame to reign supreme among the children of men?"

Somebody's asking, "When will the radiant star of hope be plunged against the nocturnal bosom of this lonely night, plucked from weary souls with chains of fear and the manacles of death? How long will justice be crucified, and truth bear it?"
I come to say to you this afternoon, however difficult the moment, however frustrating the hour, it will not be long, because "truth crushed to earth will rise again."
How long? Not long, because "no lie can live forever."
How long? Not long, because "you shall reap what you sow."
How long? Not long

Over the last four and a half years, my dear wife’s Early Onset Alzheimer’s Disease has moved her into a deeper and deeper reality of her own. The past is present only in remnants. The future is beyond her capacity to consider. Even the conversation of a moment ago is quickly lost in the fog, and there is no need to talk about what will happen in an hour’s time because that information can’t be retained. So that leaves this very present moment. My Linda has become an instrument of transformation for me. I am constantly learning and re-learning how to live in this present moment.

And in this moment I go back to the words of the Psalmist and affirm this direct affirmation of faith. “I believe that I shall see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord; be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for the Lord!” Yes, this is what I believe. God’s goodness is present in this moment in my life. And when I apply this belief to this moment, I experience the goodness of the Lord. I taste it. I know it and I am able to go on. How long? I do not know. But as each moment flows into another moment, there seems to be enough strength and courage to keep going.

And Paul tells me in his letter to the Philippians just how to go on. Go gently. Don’t worry. Be prayerful . . . and thankful. Remember the Lord is near. And the peace of God, which is beyond my understanding…beyond the regions of just the human brain, will guard my heart and mind. And then . . . yes, and then, even though I may not notice that time has moved on a few days, then Easter will come. How long? Not long. For in each day now, the Lord is near, and that means Easter is already here. Hallelujah! Amen.

Prayer: Lord of the journey, when I am tempted to quit, help me remember that when the tide is lowest, it is just about to turn. Remind me that even in this moment I can see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Help me embrace your grace in this moment as I continue toward Easter with hope. In the name of Jesus, Amen.

A Scary Moment with Winter Worries

2007-02-21T14:05:00.000-05:00

Thank God that warmer temperatures are arriving in northern VA. It gives me hope as the ice begins to melt.

This past holiday weekend was a challenge to try to keep Linda from going outside without a proper coat, in below freezing temperatures, trying to walk on sidewalks that are covered with snow and solid ice.

Yesterday she slippped out without me realizing it. When I discovered she was gone, I checked for coats...they were hanging in the closet. I went out, got in the car and started around the block...fortunately choosing the right way. I found her with a light jacket, no socks and her slip-on shoes, walking over ice, shivering away in the cold. I was able to get her back into the car, get her home and warm her up.

I fussed at her some, even knowing that it was for my own benefit and she wouldn't remember. I pointed out the sign on the door saying "STOP don't walk outside!"

Such signs don't work any longer. Within 30 minutes she was out the door again, not remembering any of the other experiences. This time, and each one after that I was able to stop her quickly since my office window looks out on our front walkway. I will now have to upgrade our security from the inside. Another crazy step in caregiving.

But most of all, I am thankful that we will be in the high 40's today and each day for the next week...maybe getting to 60 in a few days. The ice will melt. The snow will leave. The sidewalks will become safe places. The sun will shine. And it looks like we have made it safely through one more winter...hopefully.

We had one incident in this area of a person with dementia who did not make it. She walked outside without a coat, went on a short walk into the woods next to her house, and was later found frozen just 30 yards from home.

God help us. We can't be everwhere all the time. We need angels sourrounding our loved ones...human and spiritual beings making up a vast support system 24/7.

Come Spring weather, come soon. Be near, dear Lord, these are your special little ones needing our care and Your's.

Bill

Peacemakers in Action

2006-12-30T10:44:00.000-05:00

In January 2007 this new book will be available, Edited by David Little of Harvard and with an Introduction by Richard Holbrooke. It is the story of sixteen peacemakers from around the world who work at the grassroots level and draw from their religious convictions. There are Muslim, Jewish and Christian.

I have the privilege to be included in their number. One chapter focuses on my upbringing in Mississippi from Christian roots and then my work in Sudan where I worked with the New Sudan Council of Churches and helped Dinka and Nuer tribes use their own traditional methods to bring an end to an eight year war between them. The role of rituals in peacemaking takes a particular prominence in the chapter about my work.

The book can be ordered from Amazon or directly from Cambridge Press by using the following link:
http://www.cambridge.org/us/catalogue/catalogue.asp?isbn=0521618940

Various quotes about the book are included on the Cambridge site. They include the following:

"This is a must read for people of faith and those with doubts about the integrity of religion in our contemporary world of cultural wars and the clash of civilizations – an inspiration to all of us.” Dr. John Paul Lederach, Professor of International Peacebuilding, Joan B. Kroc Institute of International Peace Studies, University of Notre Dame

“This is the single most important book published in the field of religion and conflict resolution to date because . . . it finally demonstrates the evidence of what we have all been arguing, the living examples of heroic, positive religious peacemaking, and their inherent potential to change the face of the global community, if we let them.” Dr. Marc Gopin, Author of Holy War, Holy Peace Oxford University Press, 2002)

And The Children Shall Lead Them

2006-12-30T10:17:00.000-05:00

Here is a book we published in 2006. Allen Harder, Vachel Miller and I served as editors. For those interested in peace education, this book can provide very valuable assistance. It looks at curricula that is being used in the field, evaluates curricula, discusses appropriate pedagogy, and explores experiences and learnings from World Vision peace education programs in various countries. There are two new areas that push the margins of Peace Education. One is a chapter of the relationship of Peace Education and Child Protection. The other is a chapter that I wrote on inner beliefs and the way that peace education needs to build on local contexts and intentionally seek to help people be transformed in their inner life and beliefs. If you wish to order this book, click on the following link: http://www.worldvisionresources.com/product_info.php?cPath=3&products_id=308

Learning to Play Alone

2006-12-30T08:38:00.000-05:00

I am learning to play alone. I think this is a bit different from the book Bowling Alone that came out some years ago. That was focused on the social changes in our country, moving from leagues of social relationships to engaging society as individuals.

But now my partner in play is no longer able to play. I hope in time, the number of friends with whom I can play will grow. However, for many years, my primary playmate has been Linda. People are not used to calling me and saying "Can Bill come out to play?" It is new for me to think, "Who can I call to see if they can play?"

This week I have begun to learn to play alone. One day, I got a therapeutic massage...and that just showed how my muscles were very tight...probably from too much tension and stress and too little play and stretching out my body. Then Thursday I drove alone down to Washington, DC and visited the World War II memorial, something I had wanted to do for awhile. I think that the deep reason I had not yet been was that I did not have in my mind the option of going alone.

What a special afternoon. I walked among the thousands who are always on the National Mall when the weather is so beautiful. I walked in public silence, engaged in an inner conversation with self. Every reading etched in stone at the monument was read and reflected upon. The 4,000 stars representing the 400,000 American dead was striking alongside the unfathomable number of many millions who died in that war that stretched around the world. And yet, even that was not America's worst since more than 600,000 died in the great American Civil War. I paused reflectively along the entrance walls to allow my mind to linger on the frescoes portraying that this was a national war where everyone had a part and everyone sacrificed. There was the extended family gathered around the radio to hear FDR. Images told the stories of factory workers, war bond buyers, army, navy, air force, freed prisoners of war, and the dead and dying. How striking a contrast from today, where it is declared that we are in a global war and yet only a few are asked to sacrifice much, while the most wealthy get large tax cuts, soldiers are limited to the volunteers who choose to go, and funds are borrowed from our grandchildren to pay for mind boggling deficits. Those who give their lives are brought back in private so that pictures of the heavy cost will be seen by posterity but not by present countrymen and women. Large percentages of the returning soldiers struggle with Post-Traumatic Stress and many thousands have lost limbs...but the losses are contained on the margins of the media so that the vast majority are not disturbed from their normal routines. The language of global war and threat to our lives, country and future does not match the call to sacrifice which is muted and the strategy that is so fuzzy one wonders if those who lead us even believe themselves that the threat is real. The dissonance, after years of the majority being lead along almost blindly, is growing. If the threat is real, then the country needs to be united in participating in the sacrifice. And if the threat has been amplified in rhetoric for political purposes, then may history never forgive those who have led so many astray for so long.

Yes, when I play alone, the conversation in my soul is vigorous.

From WWII, I walked along the Reflecting Pool to the Lincoln Memorial. Once again I read these two greatest of American speeches, Lincoln's Second Inaugural Address and his Gettysburg Address. Moving every time. Vision, sacrifice, honor, dedication, consecration, the role of the divine and the human actors, the conflicting beliefs, and the determination to hold to those core values that are worth living and dying for....

From Lincoln, I passed again by the bigger-than-life soldiers of the Korean War Memorial...each with striking expressions on faces as they moved through the brush of a foreign land. Today's South Korea bears tribute to the UN force that halted an invasion that would have changed the peninsular and its path into this new century.

Friday found me again, playing alone. The Metro was an ideal way to travel to the District. I walked for more than five miles according to my pedometer...all in silence. Again the beauty of blue skies and temperatures hovering in the mid-50's Fahrenheit brought out both tourists and neighbors. Few were alone, like me. Couples, both young and old, extended families, parents with children, small groups of gals or guys...few travel alone in these places. I had never noticed this before...when I was not alone.

The Museum of the American Indian was my focus. The entrance theatre which can be seen along the staircase from any of the four stories was the scene of a trio of Hawaiian Native Americans in song and dance, inviting the crowd to join them. Woven clothing and blankets with bright colors adorned walls on all floors and told stories of the millions of people and languages and cultures that far predated the arrival of the first Europeans. The "treaty history" was a sobering trail of broken promises and acts of genocide in times when such a word was not known and such concepts were not considered. Beliefs in manifest destiny for a young nation and language that dehumanized native nations by calling them savages laid foundational rationales for extermination. The role of religion and the arms industry and the state military are indictments on our failure to learn lessons and our tendency to replay the cycles of destruction in new generations. When I reflect on the Holocaust, the Pol Pot destruction of Cambodia, the genocidal acts in Bosnia and Rwanda in the 20the Century and now the continuing outpouring of crimes against humanity in Darfur today, the scenes are similar.

When we destroy cultures and people, we also either destroy or marginalize their great gifts that could have been incorporated into our national heritage. What would our life and world be like today if we had been able to appreciate the depth of honor that was bestowed on creation by the Native Americans. What if we had allowed them to teach us how to live in harmony with the natural world rather than see it as something to be dominated and exploited? Would we today be more at peace with the environment and would our children have more hopeful futures? I think so...I really do! And as a Christian who embraces a call from the time of creation for humankind to be caretakers of creation, I believe that the Native Americans could have spoken wisdom to us and helped us to hear from our own scriptures....if we could have listened and been willing to learn. Native Americans are people who carry the image of God, bear the common wisdom, carry as custodians the truth that has been revealed to them, and are instruments of wisdom and teaching for all who have ears to hear. If early European Americans had been more true to their Christian beliefs, they would have embraced other bearers of God's image as brothers and sisters and found ways to live in peace with justice...a path that can lead to greater wisdom for all.

From the American Indian Museum, I walked over to the Botanical Gardens and explored the natural beauty of plants, flowers, cacti, beautiful poinsettia of the season, and the variety of environments from desert dryness to misting heaviness of the equatorial systems. Nature sings in full octave and with amazing range and rich variety.

As I played alone, these few days, I did not find loneliness to be a major factor. I am discovering a different world that is worthy of exploration. Once again Alzheimer's steals from me, but also pushes me into paths I would not have chosen to take. And on those paths I also find life as I learn to sometimes play alone.

Advent as a String of Pearls

2006-12-24T08:57:00.000-05:00

Here is what I am doing during these holidays. Things have changed so much even since last year. Linda always loved the Christmas season...her very favorite. But now she can't stay connected with time enough to remember for long that it is that season.

So my image is that this season is now a string of pearls...mostly string but a few very valuable pearls. I think of those special moments when she connects with Christmas, her eyes light up at the beauty of the Christmas tree, she holds a grandchild and laughs, unwraps a present and gets excited at a new coloring book, puts on a down sleaveless jacket and wants to wear it all the time, sings an old Christmas carol from memory as we ride along in the car . These are the pearls on this season's neckless.

Our children and I decided that we would not pour lots of activities into any single day...just string out the season. In fact...we celebrated Friday night as Christmas Eve and Saturda as Christmas Day. Today, we will go to a Christmas Eve service at church. On the 25th we will have our son, daughter-in-law, and three little grandsons over for brunch...but gifts have already been exchanged.

I think it is working for her. But there is a sense of loss for me...giving up many traditions that had such meaning...replacing them with a new pattern for this year that works for us but is really different for me.

Much of Linda's presence in Advent is gone...but she is still present in many moments...and the presence of the Christ Child who is King is very real for me...this One we call Emmanuel . . God with us . . . and that is the deepest presence in this season.

Missing Presence

2006-12-17T17:56:00.000-05:00

She captured my sense of loss in a phrase, "you're missing her presence." Yes, that is it. And that is why she is my counselor...to listen well and reflect on where I am right now, and how I can keep navigating this journey.

It was the Saturday after American Thanksgiving that I first felt the loss of presence. That is when in our tradition, we decorate the house for Christmas. It begins with getting the boxes from the attic, putting up the tree, arranging the lights on the tree, and then starting the process of putting the ornamentts on the tree. If one can remember, each ornament has its own story and history. However, if the memory fades, then they just look like nice old ornaments.

I asked Linda if she wanted to help me decorate for Christmas. In years past there would have been a delightful response showing enthusiasm and expectation. It has been Linda's favorite season as long as I have known her -- friends since 1965 when we began college. But this year her response was flat. It didn't seem to connect. So I began to get the boxes from the attic, hoping this would trigger her interest. Even as I pulled the artificial tree from its box, there were no lights that came on in Linda's eyes. Instead, she decided she wanted to walk around the block.

Kneeling beside the tree, pulling the branches apart, connecting the tree parts of base, middle and top, there was a sadness that enveloped me. I had never done this alone. During the next hour, Linda went on frequent walks...each a quick trip around the block...the one safe path she can follow without becoming lost. Steadily, I got the tree up and then with Flora's assistance the lights were arranged on the tree. Finally, with a little coaxing, Linda showed some interest and began to put a few ornaments on the tree...but each ornament was now naked...stripped of its story that would have dressed it in meaning. For her, the memories were gone...and she had been the primary custodian of these memories in our family. I guess it means that I have lost many of them too...I had always depended on Linda to tell the stories that each ornament triggered. The silence was heavy for me. The memories were not present.

My Lines Have Fallen in Pleasant Places

2006-11-23T10:32:00.000-05:00

My heart is full; my eyes brim with tears on this Thanksgiving Day 2006. What a bountiful life I have been privileged to live. I love this day, one in which the season encourages me to pause, reflect, allow gratitude to spring from my depths and let my heart and spirit say “Thank You.” For me, the thanks are addressed first to the One with whom I have a personal relationship. In following Jesus, nearly 60 years of life now, I have known the One who gives me life itself. And the journey of following has led me into pleasant places.

The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; I have a goodly heritage.
Psalms 16:6

I sat this morning in my La-Z-Boy recliner in the sun room looking out on gray skies and wet grounds from the evening’s storm that has now passed on to the north of this DC suburb. The Washington Post provided me my first feast of the day…columns of reflections ranging from the first American Thanksgiving to various writers’ personal memories of this very special and uniquely American tradition. None of them compared to the email I received this morning from our daughter who at this very moment is hosting with her husband and two children a crowd of 18-20 Tajiks to feast with them in their home in Dushambe, Tajikistan. It stirred my memories of when we hosted friends and colleagues for Thanksgiving in Nairobi, Kenya a dozen years ago. Ah, what a special American gift to share a cultural celebration that transcends cultures because it has roots in the universal value of simple gratitude. Pleasant places, peaceful moments, and memories of goodly heritage can be created anywhere in the world any day of the year…but to have a day set aside for such a ritual is a gift in itself.

This morning I tried to share an especially poignant moment with Linda. I hesitated sharing, knowing that her Alzheimer’s damaged brain would be unlikely to capture the meaning. But I needed to share it, even if she could not grasp it. So I did. I shared how I was so touched to be included as one of sixteen peacemakers in a new book that is about to be published called Peacemakers in Action: Profiles of Religion in Conflict Resolution. This coming Friday I will be at a book launch at the U.S. Institute of Peace along with two of my fellow Peacemakers in Action and the book editor, Dr. David Little of Harvard. Yesterday, I received a flier for the book and the public event. It contained some amazing statements from prominent reviewers. The list includes His Holiness the Dalai Lama, His Royal Highness Prince El Hassan bin Talal of Jordan and a long list of dignitaries. I was struck by the enthusiasm of Dr. Marc Gopin, Professor of World Religions, Diplomacy, and Conflict Resolution at George Mason University, who wrote, “This is the single most important book published in the field of religion and conflict resolution to date.” It makes me want to read the book…and makes me marvel that somehow I am included in the stories of practitioners.

In the past, when special moments occurred for me, I could share them at home with Linda and she would fill them with escalating joy as she affirmed and encouraged me. Not so, today. She could not grasp the meaning and could not hold on to any of the ideas for even a moment. Her response was just some stringing together of phrases that carried no verbal meaning . . . a non sequitur from what I had shared. So the tears came to my eyes…another painful loss as my life partner could no longer grasp and celebrate with me a moment of thankfulness.

However, I wonder, is it possible that her meaningless words came from deep within her and was an expressed desire to say something out loud that would echo her heart? Was she engaging with me not at a rational level but at a level of two lovers who do not depend on words to convey meaning? I choose to embrace that thought, even if my tears deny the belief. How I miss her incredible ability of years past to celebrate each special moment of others…whether it is her husband, her children, her grandchildren or even a stranger who shares a special moment! But for me, the fact that I miss it now means it once was there and now is gone. It means I can be thankful for the un-numbered times I have been privileged to be celebrated by this special woman…so today I am thankful for what has been and what I can remember even if I must hold these memories for the both of us.

Yes, it is Thanksgiving Day, and I am thankful that my life has been so good with this gracious woman that I can now feel intense pain and loss. If it had not been so good, then it wouldn’t hurt so badly. So I am even thankful for the depth of pain and the brimming tears because they confirm my “goodly heritage” that makes me proclaim “the boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places.”

Save Darfur --- A Rally Experience

2006-05-01T08:03:00.000-04:00

Well, yesterday I decided I would give it my best shot on taking Linda on an outing. It worked! Now I am exhausted. There is a price to pay...but I would do this one again.

I took Linda on the Metro to downtown Washington, DC for us to participate in the Save Darfur rally. Getting her through the turnstyles at the station was fun ... just put her ticket in..tell her to "go go go" ... then push her forward just before the door closes again.

Being with thousands of people was ok for a little while but a challenge. For some reason on such outings Linda's bladder needs to be relieved frequently. Lining up to get in one of twenty or so port-a-potties was another experience. So confusing...our turn..no..that one...no...watch the red and green color on the door...when you go in turn the nob...I will be waiting...when you come out...stand right here and wait for me...O God, help her remember I am just inside for a minute!

Then we needed to find a place with a little more space. Thankfully, the lawn of the National Museum of Art beckoned and we sat on thick green grass under a big tree, chilled wind blowing, still within reach of the crowd and able to hear the speakers.

This rally was a moving experience for me...the reason I felt the need to be there. Way back 15 years ago I started work on Sudan and working in southern Sudan. For so many years it was such a struggle to get any attention for the suffering. Back in 2000 I was the guest curator for the U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum in creating a "Genocide Warning" display of artifacts on Sudan. A display that we thought would be up for 6 months was up for nearly two years. Now to participate in a rally with more than 160 groups, thousands of people across the country, Catholics, protestants, Jews, Muslims, Democrats, Republicans, adults and children, and so many students...it was at times so overwhelming to me...brought back so many memories of being in Sudan and seeing so many die and so many more suffer.

I wanted to talk with Linda about it...but all the details have been lost for her...she knows we have a Sudan connection but little more. In 1991 she and our daughter (age 16 at the time) were caught in a government air bombing attack in southern Sudan while they were training women to operate treadle sewing machines. They survived with the Sudanese women putting them in a bombing trench and putting their bodies on top of Linda and Lela so that they would be kept safe. Such incredible sense of hospitality that your guest's life is more important than your own. Talking about caregiving!

I digress..what a trip down memory lane for me...I just hope that the rally will make some contribution toward ending the terrible suffering in Darfur, Sudan today...200,000 dead already and 2,000,000 displaced...and no hope in sight as "never again" seems so hollow in the inaction of the international community.

After the rally I took Linda to the Art Sculpture Garden, got a sandwich and drink, and sat beside the beautiful pool with eight spewing fountains, a cool breeze, and a bright and warm sun beaming down.

At every place we went, Linda gregariously started conversations with people...making little sense, surprising them, and enjoying herself. She talked with info desk people at the museum, a staff person trying to take a break, a policewoman in the garden, a child by the pool...and on and on. I pretended to sleep in her lap by the garden pool and listened to her conversation with an eleven year old boy. He didn't seem to notice or be bothered by her frequent asking of him for his name. A lesson for me...to be more like a child myself.

Then we extended our visit again...taking the metro to Foggy Bottom and going to Western Presbyterian Church. There we met three friends and listened to the National Men's Chorus and the U.S. Army Chorus as they sang incredible songs from Mozart to Gershwin to spirituals. What a feast...and Linda held out and enjoyed the moments.

Finally, it was back on the Metro and home by 9:30 p.m. ...wow nearly eight hours of outings.

This morning I am so tired. No wonder! What an adventure . . . costly . . . stressful . . . moving . . . sometimes relaxing . . . beautiful weather . . . gratifying to see so many engaged in world needs . . . and worth it all. At the end Linda said once again . . . "it has been a wonderful day" even though the details of the day were already gone from her mind. I have created a memory that belongs to the two of us even though I will be the only custodian who can nourish and save it for future reflections.

I'd do it again. But not today. That will have to be in some tomorrow.

Rest Up . . . Vacation is Coming!

2006-04-03T19:41:00.000-04:00

Not sure when I first had this idea…but it was at least a couple of decades ago and as the years have passed it has cultured like a pearl and become rather priceless. The idea was simple, “Never go on vacation to rest…start a vacation already rested…then enjoy it to the fullest!” I followed that “rule of thumb” for some time. Then it drifted away…and I am unsure how or when or where. Too bad. It was a good idea back then. It may even be better now.

Not sure how I found this old idea again…maybe it was hidden deep in my weariness. But I stumbled on it in the Dominican Republic. I had just completed facilitating a global conference on peace and advocacy. Thirty-nine days of travel away from home in ten weeks had depleted my strength. There I sat on the beach with a gentle Caribbean breeze blowing in the night air and the moonlight adequate for seeing inside of me. A friend from Beirut sat beside me and handed me a ten-dollar Cuban cigar. It would be illegal to import to America, but that was no problem since the night was early and it was ready to smoke in Boca Chica Bay. A watered down Margarita and a smooth Cuban was a rare moment for me. When I was in seminary in Jackson, Mississippi, back in the seventies, I would smoke a Garcia Vega at the end of each quarter. Linda made me smoke it outside. I didn’t mind. I loved to sit in my swing under the grape arbor I had built, drink a tall glass of ice tea with a shot of lemon and a sprig of mint, and smoke that one cigar. My body and mind would unwind in the lilting moments of solitude. Occasionally, I would think of my theology professor, far too conservative for me, a little to the right of Attila the Hun. But he surprised me with his view of Christian liberty. I remember he said he could smoke a cigar to the glory of God. Strange juxtaposition of concepts, but such combinations of ideas are rich stimulations of thought.

So, I have wandered away again, into my meandering thoughts. But that seems to happen with a cigar. I had never smoked a Cuban cigar until June 2005. I was in El Salvador then and shared an evening with friends as we waited for a hurricane that was barreling down directly on us. Then later that same month, this friend from Beirut was with me in Croatia. He brought me a Cuban cigar from the Duty Free Shop in Beirut. We smoked it on a floating restaurant on the river that runs through Osijek. Now, here I am again, less than a year since my last Cuban, and with the same friend. Strange crossing of paths take place when one follows after peace.

Somewhere near the lapping waters of the Caribbean on the shores of Boca Chica Bay, my old pearl of an idea worked its way to the surface of my subconscious. I was struggling to regain some balance. My wife’s Alzheimer’s had been on a rapid downhill run of late. I had lost my equilibrium. And then the season of travel had hit me hard and that had not only worn me down, it had also further destabilized her. An adult companion daycare worker I had hired to help had only lasted three weeks. The stress was too great for her. So I knew the month of April could be a tough one trying to put all the pieces together again.

Back in September 2005, my brother and I had decided to take a respite trip to Ireland…just the two of us. It was a way to get away. A place he loved and I did not know. An opportunity to deepen two brothers’ relationships and hopefully to send us back home better prepared for life and with new energy for me to continue the caregiver role. But then Katrina hit Mississippi and knocked our plans into another year. So now that time has come…the year is new and in May, he and I hope to be in Shannon for a week. But here I am near exhaustion! It looks like Ireland will be the place of exhausted sleep and recovery. But there on the beach of Caribbean waters a message came to me saying I should not treat the Atlantic beach so disdainfully. How dare I consider offending a neighborly shore by spending a visit in a fit of exhaustion? Wake up, man! Get some rest! And then go on that vacation trip!

Ah, the pearl is alive. The wisdom of old has returned. The simple plan is back in play.

So now I have intervened in my own life and schedule. For the next five weeks, I will take all but one weekend as three or four day weekends. I will string a few days off linked with weekend days. And I will rest up! I will walk often, and I will work “normal” days rather than the crazy hours I seem to accept as standard. And when it comes time to go to Ireland, by God’s grace, I will go! Rested! Energetic! Ready to embrace the beauty, the solitude, the sea, the pubs, the B&Bs, and my brother. Now that is a vision of peace…within and around.

Thank God for a single Cuban on the Caribbean, a friend from far away, a weary body, and a pearl of wisdom that surfaced in the light of the moon.

The Task Has Changed

2006-04-03T07:32:00.000-04:00

I picked up a shovel, got the wheelbarrow with two wheels that gives balance to very heavy loads, and attacked the topsoil pile in my driveway yesterday. Two piles have sat side-by-side through the winter…one of topsoil, the other of mulch. Winter caught me by surprise when it arrived early in our area and the piles were not fully spread around the yard. So a blue tarp covered the piles, the neighbors did not complain, and I waited until the emergence of spring temperatures. Yesterday, it was time to begin “the task.”

Linda wanted to help. She always wants to help. And she loves to be with me, inside or outside. So I helped her get a small yard cart and a shovel so she could be working on her task while I focused on the topsoil. I helped her get a little topsoil into her cart and find the freshly planted flowers around the mailbox that could use a bit of supplemental soil. This worked fine while I filled a couple of wheelbarrow loads and moved them to the backyard.

"Now what?" she asked. The small task was over. So I tried to explain to Linda that she could get some mulch and use it to cover the topsoil and blanket the area around the mailbox and four small plants. At this point I knew that “the task” had changed. Moving large amounts of topsoil had been my chosen task. But now moving a thought through an Alzheimer’s brain became a more complex mission. Here is how it went…

“Take your cart to the other side of the mulch pile.”
“Do I go this way or go around?”
“Just go between the two piles…that is fine.”
“Now, move that rock off the blue plastic so you can pull the tarp back away from the mulch.”
“That is good. Now fold the tarp back.”
“This tarp or that one?”
“That one in front of you. You want to be able to see the mulch and get some of it for your cart. . . That is good.”
“Now use your shovel to pick up some mulch and put it into your cart. It is light weight so it will be easy.”
“That is good, now one more shovel load. Now just one more. That is just right.”
“Now take the cart to the flowers and put the mulch around the flowers and over the topsoil you just spread.”
“You want me to put it in all the flower beds?”
“No just the one spot where you planted the new flowers.”
“Where is that?”
“It is next to the mailbox, next to the street. There are newly planted flowers there.”

As I leaned on my shovel, aching back from lifting the heavy loads, I wondered, “Is this a diversion from the task at hand?”

Now I realize it was not a diversion. It is the mission…the task…and it is a merging of task and relationship into one. Helping Linda be a fellow worker with me in the yard is not about the task. It is about the relationship we have and about her sense of well-being. Together we moved some topsoil and a little mulch. The neighbors will have to be patient a little longer (and they are) before these blue-tarp piles are erased from the driveway. But the task has morphed into something new. It is just another means of giving care.

Later, in the early evening, Linda said, “It has been a wonderful day.” She didn’t remember what had made it wonderful. The soil and mulch experience had slipped from the reach of her memory…but the sense of “wonder” in the day remained…no longer linked to a task…just floating there in a way that connected the two of us.

A memory surfaced for me of a time when my task orientation got in the way of another relationship. We were living in Nairobi and my work was focused on rebel zones of southern Sudan. It was early morning at the office when a Sudanese friend came into the office. I needed to talk with him, so I immediately launched into asking him about the task that was on my mind. He patiently listened, then looked at me in silence and smiled at me. Then he asked, “How is your family?”

Like an arrow, his non-sequitur question pierced my understanding. I was task oriented in a relational world in Africa. No African would greet a person in a new day with a task related question. First the relationships must be renewed and re-established before any tasks can be properly addressed! I had violated the most basic of “simple rules” of life in this context.

I called my friend by name, and said, “Please forgive me. Today I am just being a crazy American. Can I please start over. Tell me of your family…are you doing well?” In his graciousness, he smiled, forgave without words, and we slipped into the proper conversation of renewing the relationships. A few minutes later, with our human engines warm and our relationships intact, the task was addressed. I don’t remember what the task was…but I do remember the relationship.

Now I am learning that it is not an either task or relationship issue. But the task can be the relationship and the relationship can be the task. This is not an easy transformation for me…but it is vital on the journey of care-giving. One of the tasks is to transform me into a 24/7 relational being who also has some tasks to accomplish. The major cross-cultural challenge in my life is the continuous crossing of boundaries between my world of work that is strongly task-oriented and my world of care-giving that is continuously relational.

What a task! What a relationship!

Peace Reflection

2006-02-04T16:04:00.000-05:00

2 Thessalonians 3:16
Now may the Lord of peace himself give you peace at all times in all ways. The Lord be with all of you.

Reflections:

Source of peace -- He who is peace is the One who can give it to me

Continual peace – peace at all times, not just occasionally

Comprehensive peace – peace in all ways

Communal peace – Lord of peace be with all of you

Structure Binds Anxiety

2006-02-04T10:27:00.000-05:00

I'm not sure when I first heard that principle . . . somewhere in my past, from a counselor or a conflict manager, or an anonymous wise person. But I took it to heart even then. It rang true. Over the years I have uttered that phrase many times . . . to others, to myself, words of wisdom not birthed in me . . . but now rooted in me.

I write on a plane headed first for Singapore and then to Aceh, Indonesia. Never has a trip taken so much preparation. Not preparation for my work, although that was a part of these days. But primarily I made preparation for Linda's care. On previous trips, I had to construct a simple scaffold that provided enough structure for her to be secure. She could hang her life on that frame and maintained enough mental flexibility to fill in the features of a day that she would enjoy. As recent as last October, just three months ago, Linda could write a note to a friend, address it, drive her Beetle over to the Post Office a little over a mile away, and mail it. She could recognize that she was out of ice cream or milk; the most common items that ran short, and just hop in the car and go solve her "problem." On the way to Giant, after parking in Oakton Shopping Center, she may decide to stop at Starbucks for a short or tall coffee of the day, or maybe browse the card rack at the Hallmark store finding a message of encouragement that could be passed on to a friend or family member. So what, if in the process of these little errands she forgot about the ice cream?! She could always go back again later when the idea returned to her mind or she opened the freezer door and discovered there was no ice cream.

Those precious skills are long gone. They will never return. The disability of yester-month now seems like there was little "dis-" and a lot of ability.

Driving. . .that incredible and liberating freedom in modern society. . . is gone forever for Linda. She accepted it with such gentleness. The ceremony of a moment became poignant, etched in time and memory for her for many days. With grace, she went to her purse, found the keys to her beloved Beetle, the only car she had fallen in love with during her 45 plus years of driving, and handed them over to me, signalling that she accepted that she would never drive again.

Today there is little evidence of dwelling on these losses. Oh she may say, "I need my hair trimmed" . . . or. . . "we need some ice cream." She said them both this week before this trip. And she knew I would have to arrange for both. So Monday I got her an appointment with Thuy at the Hair Cuttery, and she got a trim and blow-dry. Tuesday night I ordered PeaPod, home delivery of groceries from Giant Food Store, and at the heart of the order were two types of ice cream. Wednesday afternoon the groceries arrived, part of the structure that makes it possible for me to travel.

So whose anxiety is being bound by this structure? It is much more than a two-fer. Linda's anxiety is bound by a much more complex structure of support, now a full skeleton system is in place with very little responsibility for her to "flesh it out." She can be and do, feel safe and loved, have others take most of the initiative around her, and remain her almost always happy and contented self. There are few problems for her to solve and so little ability left to engage in problem solving. So the structure of caregiving support binds her anxiety.

And my anxiety is bound. I know that Heather, our live-in companion, will stick her head in the door of Linda's bedroom and check on her about 6 a.m. each weekday before she heads to work. I know who will call or come by, every two hours. I can picture Emelie calling at 7:30 a.m. with a bright "Good Morning, Linda" and a gentle reminder to take medicines. And then at noon she will call again, with Linda probably not remembering the earlier call. This call will be just a check-in to make sure she is there and talk about what she may eat for lunch. Linda can still punch the button on the microwave that says "Frozen Dinner" and automatically calculates the time to heat a Lean Cuisine. Linda needs a reminder occasionally that it is lunchtime.

At 2:30 p.m. a bright, cheery, sophomore at Oakton High School will ring the doorbell. This Junior Varsity point guard on the basketball team and former distance runner will bring joy to Linda's spirit. They will go for a walk in the neighbourhood if weather permits, work on a jigsaw puzzle in the sunroom, or just enjoy a cup of hot chocolate topped with mini-marsh mellows as they visit, and giggle like child and teenager they now are. If Dana gets a phone call from a friend while she is Linda's companion during this hour and a half, Dana will quickly say to the caller, "I'm with my friend, Linda. I will call you back later." And then once again Linda has her undivided attention.

Yes, my anxiety is bound with these structures. And so is the potential anxiety of our children, of Linda's sisters, of my siblings, and of our friends. Even the anxiety of the Sheriff's Department in Fairfax County is bound. They know that with this type of support, Linda is unlikely to wander off and become lost. Oh, they can find her quickly if they have to, because their Search and Rescue team can use their receivers to pick up the radio signals emanating from Linda's wrist band every second. But there will be no need for that or the cost of a search for a person without a Project Lifesaver radio signal. . . because this structure is keeping her safe and closely monitored.

This principle of "structure binds anxiety" is also a peacebuilding approach. I have witnessed the collapse of so many structures in conflict zones. As social structures collapse, livelihoods disappear, conventions for ordering life like schools, farming, irrigation canals, religious meeting places, and communications systems are destroyed, the anxiety within people and communities rapidly climbs. The stress of conflict, whether latent or manifest, openly violent or silently systemic destroys the human spirit.

Now flip this over from the negative to the positive side of the coin. As structures are recreated and reinforced, one element at a time, some anxiety is bound and new energy for life is birthed. After years of violent conflict between Nuer and Dinka peoples in southern Sudan, I witnessed a peace agreement that was signed by those with the ability to do so and "thumb-printed" by those without education. The agreement had been reached through a process of days of storytelling, problem solving, and consensus building. Afterwards a ritual of slaughtering a white bull sealed the covenant of peace. Promises were made to keep the peace. Freedom of movement was re-instituted. Fishing ponds were opened for both sides and "common pooled resources" of water and grazing lands were no longer places of threat and vulnerable to attack. The structures of peace bound the anxieties of the people. Warriors leapt into the air with peace dances, powerful men embraced one another with large smiles, women and children walked in safety again, and youth returned to old traditions of cattle keeping rather than focusing their lives on raids.

I am completing this little blog 16 days after beginning it. Now I am on the plane flying back to the USA. In Aceh, Indonesia, where a peace agreement between the GAM and the Government of Indonesia is being implemented, the spirit of peace and hope is in the air. I facilitated a major update of a conflict analysis. The change since March of 2005 is dramatic. Structures have bound the anxiety of many thousands. Disarmament of the GAM has been completed and a former rebel army is now demobilized. The TNI, military of the GoI, has withdrawn some 25,000 troops. Checkpoints are down, people move freely. These are important steps.

In a personal way I witnessed the change in the old man artist of Aceh. When I was with him last March, he was so traumatized from the tsunami. He had been carried by the killer wave for two kilometres and had no explanation of his survival. Much of his life work of painting had been destroyed. Each night he was plagued with terrifying nightmares. We talked then of how he could visit the Child Friendly Spaces (CFS) our organization had created. He could help the children work through their trauma by helping them paint their feelings and memories. Maybe a simple structure of connecting an old man with young children could help to heal them both.

The healing of Round, the artist, is substantial. He showed me his paintings that he did at the CFS. One was a painting of young girls with white head scarfs, sitting under a tree, all painting their pictures while the artist painted them. What a powerful image of peace and a simple structure that bound the anxiety of many.

Over these months, Round has listened to the stories of many survivors of the tsunami. And then he has captured their stories in his paintings. It is almost as though the trauma can be released once this master artist captures the often-repeated story. Round has become an instrument of healing for others, even as he has experienced healing within himself. While being pummeled in the wave, Round made a promise to God. "If I survive, I will give my life to telling the story through paintings." Round is keeping his promise. . . and the stories in art are powerful proclamations without words. [Paintings by Round Kelana]

Soon I will be back home, weary in body and eager in spirit to be reunited with my dear Linda. I could not have made this trip without the structures that put limits on my anxieties. And the structures all had human hands and faces and energy behind them that made them work.

When I get home, I will have 20 days of being in place, working in my office, embracing the moments of joy with Linda. This will be my next window of time. And as it comes to an end, I will prepare again for a trip. The next one is to Lebanon. But creating the structures for that trip can wait. Right now, I am flying home, expecting to land at Washington Dulles about 6:15 p.m. after 26 hours of travel. I picture the arrival, the joyful call on my mobile phone to tell Linda that I am on the ground and in the taxi. The re-uniting embrace will come before 8 p.m. . . . signalling the successful completion of a journey. Linda will not remember the details . . . the schedule of each day, the many family and friends who cared for her . . . but she will remember that she has been peaceful . . . little anxiety has invaded her restricted world . . .and when I need to travel again, she will say, "It's OK for you to go. I will be OK here."

3 February 2006, somewhere over the Pacific between Tokyo and Los Angeles

Another New Year, Not Like the Others

2006-01-08T07:49:00.000-05:00

This year feels a lot different. I have always loved the future...anticipated it, planned for it, schemed to influence it, believed it would be better, connected it with the past as a "flow through" of progressive growth, improvement, and abundance of life.

A sea change has occurred within me. I have never faced the future like this. It has become almost an afterthought. The present dominates. The immediate. The now. The future is overshadowed with a cloud of darkness and uncertainty...so it is not the place to linger. If I can find a sunny moment in the now, I allow myself to be touched by its warmth. If the now is bleak and overcast, I just steel myself to pass through and look for another moment to embrace.

I have not thought of this before, but living with Alzheimer's Disease that is taking over my wife, has some parallels with people I know who live in conflict. So many of them live in the moment. In Sudan the majority of the southern population had never known a time of peace in their entire lives. There was little sense of hope for the future. It was tough to work on any development project that would contribute toward a better future. There just was not the inner belief that a better future would come. So they lived in the moment. And they learned to be resilient. A future peace was out of their hands...they would wait and let someone else...some unknown entity usher in the peace. And if it entered the present...they would embrace it. If it did not...they would not be disappointed because they had not built up their expectations.

I am in a battle now like my Sudanese friends, and those I know in Palestine, in northeast Uganda, in Sri Lanka, in Zimbabwe, in Mindanao, in Indonesia. It is a battle too big for one individual to control. No amount of scheming will dramatically change its outcome. So subtly, without realizing the metamorphous has occurred, today has become more important than tomorrow.

A verse comes to mind. "This is the day the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it." (Psalm 118:24).

So there are no resolutions this year except to live in this day and be glad in it. It doesn't matter that this is January 8th...more than a week into the New Year before I write. New Day seems more important than New Year. Happy New Day to anyone who reads this!

Someone to Care For

2005-12-27T17:12:00.000-05:00

For Christmas, I gave Linda a "Someone To Care For" doll. I had wondered if it was too early for this although I knew that she had always loved dolls when growing up. Well, it was not too early! When she opened the gift she loved it. We named her Baby Ann (Linda's middle name).

Linda held Baby Ann all during the gift giving and unwrapping, all the way home in the car, took a nap with her on Christmas afternoon, and has now slept with her at night the last two nights. She loves Baby Ann. I told her she would be Baby Ann's caregiver and I would be her caregiver so we all have an important role to play.

For Linda to be at peace with herself, she needs to be able to make a contribution. The same is true for me. And I have found that in conflicted communities one of the best ways to work on peace is to help everyone have a part to play and a contribution to make. Then the peace belongs to everyone. Not so different in the world of caregiving..

The KISS of Christmas

2005-12-22T12:00:00.000-05:00

Alzheimer’s patients need simplicity, safety, familiar places and faces, distinguishable sounds, and a few people at a time. Complexity is confusing. Threats, real and imagined, are unnerving. Strange places and strangers generate anxiety. Multiple conversations in a room sound like a cacophony of noise. And many people in the same place can be overwhelming.

So back to the old “Keep It Simple Stupid” applied to Christmas.

Linda and I are having a good Christmas season. Here is what we are doing to KISS Christmas in 2005:

Dress the tree. On the Sunday after thanksgiving I put up the tree and lights and got out all the boxes with Christmas decorations. Linda spent several hours putting ornaments on the tree and putting greenery and lights on the banister. I got the ficus tree and a Norfolk Pine ready for bows and put tiny lights on the Pine in the sunroom.
Keep decorations at a minimum. Some of the decorations of the past are staying in the boxes this year. The ones we most enjoy are up…but not too many to be distracting.
Little shopping. I have done some purchases on-line. Our daughter Lela, took Linda shopping to one store where she felt familiar with the environment. They bought some clothes that I can give to her. She doesn’t remember that they are for Christmas and kept putting them on to wear them until we got them wrapped. I took Linda shopping to stand alone stores that were not in Malls. This was to get small items like candles, scented pinecones, and decorations for me to make a stocking for our Julia, our youngest grandchild.
Music. Linda loves to have music playing on the CD. So frequently the house is filled with soft sounds of Christmas.
Family gifts. Mostly we have given contributions to charities in the names of our siblings. I have requested that our son Will, our daughter Lela, and our son-in-law Don give me the gift of “Do List Reduction.” They will come over to the house and work with me for a few hours on January 2nd as we check on the maintenance list I have of small plumbing repairs, installing blinds, fixing leaks, etc.
Family Celebration. On Friday the 23rd, we will go to Lela and Don’s and be joined by Will, Chris, and Trey. This will be our Christmas Eve, but a day early. We will have dinner (Honey Baked Ham is my contribution), play a simple board game that Linda can be comfortable playing, and spend the night before Christmas together. On Saturday, we will celebrate as though it is Christmas Day. Trey, at 2 ½ will rise early to play. We will have a nice brunch together and open gifts. Sometime during the morning we will talk with Bethany, Sean, Andrew (4 ½) and Julia (1 ½) in Dushanbe, Tajikistan. Thank God for phone connections and voice over internet.
Christmas Day. Linda and I will have a simple day. We will go to church for the 10 a.m. service. Then we will come home and I will prepare a special meal…honey baked ham (left from Friday night), three bean salad, stuffing, and a Caesar salad. Probably no planned dessert or bread…maybe a dish of ice cream later which is Linda’s favorite any time, all the time.
Lots of Togetherness Time. I am on vacation so we do everything together. Tonight Linda and I will go out to eat with my sister Emelie and her husband Wood. This simple foursome will be instead of any Christmas parties this year. After Christmas Linda and I will fly to Atlanta on the 28th for my niece’s wedding. Lots of family will mean lots of togetherness. I will monitor that continuously so it doesn’t get overwhelming for Linda. We will have a suite at the hotel so people can come visit us just two or three at a time.

Life on a Treadmill

2005-12-21T12:13:00.000-05:00

For the past two weeks I have been back on a treadmill. Not virtual but real. For too long the self-care did not include much exercise…and I could feel the negative results. Amazing how quickly some good benefits are felt. I’m just going at 3.5 mph and for 30 minutes at a time. But I got in four workouts last week and already three times this week. Each session is less than two miles. But the heart is pumping stronger, the breathing is a bit easier, the sweat flows freely, and the mind gets creative. With all those benefits…why is it so hard to step on a treadmill?

My life has treadmill elements too. The benefits are subtler. And I do not have a choice. When I awaken each morning, the rituals of care giving are before me. Get the morning paper, start the coffee, and check the Alzheimer’s Message Board before Linda gets up. Then make sure she takes her medicine, prepare breakfast, write on the refrigerator whiteboard “Today is: Wednesday, December 21, 2005.” Follow that with a couple of activities of the day. Most of the time during the day, Linda will not remember to check the white board when she wonders what day it is. She will ask me. “Is today Friday?” “No, today is Wednesday.” Linda has a new question for me. She has been trying it out for about three weeks now. “Are you OK?” It must be a very important question for her. She asks me many times each day…never remembering that she has asked before. My answers are one of two types. “Yes, I am OK.” That keeps it simple and we move on. The other answer is similar. “Yes, I am OK. Are you OK?” She laughs and says, “Yes.” So I say, “Good, I am OK and you are OK so we both are OK!” We both laugh and move on. Later we will return to that question again. It is part of our daily treadmill. And the benefit is simple. I think Linda knows that she is OK as long as I am OK. So really she is asking me to help her know that she is OK. So I do…and together we are OK. This little treadmill of questions helps us be OK. My real treadmill helps me be OK so I can help Linda know she is OK.

2005-12-18T16:24:00.000-05:00

Bill Lowrey with Nuer Chief

Photo by Michel duCille/Washington Post
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-srv/inatl/galleries/sudan/gallery2_6.htm

Beginning a Blog

2005-12-18T14:47:00.000-05:00

Interesting reflection process to consider a title for this blog. What is my primary identity right now? My energy this week is focused on being a caregiver. My wife has Early Onset Alzheimer's Disease. I am on vacation until the beginning of the new year so that means even more time spent thinking about and living out the caregiving role. So should it be Memoirs of a Caregiver?

Someday, my Caregiver role will be over. It is tough to think of that..tougher to feel it...but that is the reality of Alzheimer's. I may not outlive Linda...but that is my first goal so that I can care for her for the rest of her life. And if I am successful in outliving her, then some day I will no longer be in the primary role of Caregiver. My identity will change.

So what is a deeper identity? One that pre-dates and post-dates and includes the years of caregiving?

At the core of my identity is peacemaker. I can trace it throughout my life. It is dominant in my profession now because I hold the title of Director of Peacebuilding and Reconciliation with a large non-government humanitarian organization. But being a peacemaker did not start with my employment with this NGO in 2000. That began long before.

So it is Memoirs of a Peacemaker...not caregiver and not peacebuilder. Peacemaker is at the core. Making peace with my inner self. Making peace with the long journey of good-bye as my partner fades into the fog and our shared memories of the past decades become un-shared. Making peace with caregiving as a major calling. Making peace with the juggling of caregiving and peacebuilding, personal and professional, calling and employment, private and public. And these are my experiences of making peace with God, with my past, with my present and with my future. Building peace is different from peacemaker. Building peace and working for reconciliation is my professional calling in contexts around the world. The focus of this work includes building peace within people, within families, among friends, clans, tribes, networks, across differences, with the creational environment, and within organizations and institutions.

In the coming days and months, I will write memoirs from the past as well as the unfolding journey I am traveling. My challenge is to be honest with myself...to face my reality...to remember as well as I can these events of my past...and to engage the future as it daily intrudes into my present.

With Alzehimer's Disease, I am learning to live with Linda in the moment...the very present...the immediate. It is a wild challenge...forces me off my game...and moves me into my inner self in ways that have never happened before.

For any who want to peek into my life and walk alongside me or near me, you are welcome. If you have comments, those are welcomed. If you have challenges you wish to issue to me...that is good. I promise to read them...to ponder your input...and to incorporate that which I discern to be wisdom.

Bill