Day 2.5 -- Being It
Day 3 — South Bend, IN to Iowa City, IA
(First Installment - Thoughts while sleeping in my car on an 11-degree night in Notre Dame )
I wanted to reflect back on my last day in Rochester. It was very crazy, with essential activities, deadlines, goodbyes and, as you, dear reader, might imagine, many emotions. One of my best friends and confidantes over the past decade has been Linda Morreale, a massage therapist in Penfield and a true healer in every sense of the word. Years back, we attended a black tie political event for a client of mine, and some wonderful pictures were taken of us. I gave my Mom a picture without a frame, and Mom dutifully taped it to her dresser at the last home, and now keeps it in a drawer. In her mind, Linda and I are a couple based on seeing our picture daily for almost 10 years. Linda has never met my Mom. That's a lesson I learned as a teen and I won't get into it here. Linda suggested that I introduce her to Mom as I'm leaving, just so she might be a liaison if Mom needed something and Mark and Shannon were unable to assist. This has been a major worry of mine, and part of the reason I didn't leave in May was guilt over feeling like a bad son for leaving while Mom was in an Alzheimer's facility. The need to re-establish my career and break free from poverty have superceded.
If you read only one line of all I write, please read this one. Linda and I talked about living each moment, and casting aside all previous judgements and preconceptions. Linda called this Being "It." It's active, rather than passive. It's being love, rather than being in love. So watch through my eyes what happened.
We entered the Highlands and Brighton and signed in. Minutes later, an aide came to escort us to the unit where Mom lives. Doors are locked to prevent wandering. We both greeted Tyronda with a smile, and she told us that Mom was very excited to see us and jumped out of bed to get dressed when she learned we were coming. The wardrobe selection took awhile, so Mom wasn't ready yet. So Linda and I waited in the meeting room. Before long, one of the patients entered. I had seen this woman several times before when visiting Mom, and she would try to open the latched door or walk in uninvited until an aide would usher her back to her room. I always ignored her, hoping she would go away. Today, we said hello, and Linda, being it, engaged her in a short conversation. She asked the woman's name, and Joanne sat down. She didn't speak much, but felt comfortable to sit down with us. Joanne is not an elderly woman, and may be just a few years older than Linda and I. She is withdrawn. Shortly after introductions, Joanne got up, said goodbye and left. Moments later, she returned with a folded piece of paper from the bulletin board outside the room. "Is this the one you need, or did you want the other one?" she asked, handing it to Linda. Linda unfolded the paper. It was blank. "Were you going to write a note for me? Maybe they have a pen, or some crayons and you can write a note on here." Joanne said no, and left. I pointed out to Linda a juice can with marking pens on a shelf. She took them, and began making simple drawings on each of the panels of the folded paper. Blue stars on one, green christmas trees on another, red hearts on the third, and on the fourth, she wrote, "For Joanne." Later, we asked one of the aides to make sure she got it. We don't know what Joanne's reaction will be, but Linda said, "It doesn't matter. We made a connection with her."
Mom came in, and we had a fabulous visit. Mom was more "with it" than her alzheimers usually permits, and her humor showed through. In minutes, the room was filled with happiness. Other residents came in to wish Mom a Merry Christmas (the day after) and to be a part of the joy.
As a writer, I'm capable of taking a blank piece of paper and making it into whatever I choose: horror, drama, comedy or biography. Linda, skilled in healing and not writing, takes every DAY and fills that blank page with stars and trees and hearts. It's called Being It. More of us should try. That is my goal as I begin this new phase of my life.
If you need physical healing or wish to treat someone special or yourself to a relaxing swedish massage, call Healing Energy Massage at (585) 317-4070. Or visit Linda's website at www.RochestersBestMassage.com. If I could afford it, I would send you all gift certificates because she is wonderful, and so are you.
More later.
(First Installment - Thoughts while sleeping in my car on an 11-degree night in Notre Dame )
I wanted to reflect back on my last day in Rochester. It was very crazy, with essential activities, deadlines, goodbyes and, as you, dear reader, might imagine, many emotions. One of my best friends and confidantes over the past decade has been Linda Morreale, a massage therapist in Penfield and a true healer in every sense of the word. Years back, we attended a black tie political event for a client of mine, and some wonderful pictures were taken of us. I gave my Mom a picture without a frame, and Mom dutifully taped it to her dresser at the last home, and now keeps it in a drawer. In her mind, Linda and I are a couple based on seeing our picture daily for almost 10 years. Linda has never met my Mom. That's a lesson I learned as a teen and I won't get into it here. Linda suggested that I introduce her to Mom as I'm leaving, just so she might be a liaison if Mom needed something and Mark and Shannon were unable to assist. This has been a major worry of mine, and part of the reason I didn't leave in May was guilt over feeling like a bad son for leaving while Mom was in an Alzheimer's facility. The need to re-establish my career and break free from poverty have superceded.
If you read only one line of all I write, please read this one. Linda and I talked about living each moment, and casting aside all previous judgements and preconceptions. Linda called this Being "It." It's active, rather than passive. It's being love, rather than being in love. So watch through my eyes what happened.
We entered the Highlands and Brighton and signed in. Minutes later, an aide came to escort us to the unit where Mom lives. Doors are locked to prevent wandering. We both greeted Tyronda with a smile, and she told us that Mom was very excited to see us and jumped out of bed to get dressed when she learned we were coming. The wardrobe selection took awhile, so Mom wasn't ready yet. So Linda and I waited in the meeting room. Before long, one of the patients entered. I had seen this woman several times before when visiting Mom, and she would try to open the latched door or walk in uninvited until an aide would usher her back to her room. I always ignored her, hoping she would go away. Today, we said hello, and Linda, being it, engaged her in a short conversation. She asked the woman's name, and Joanne sat down. She didn't speak much, but felt comfortable to sit down with us. Joanne is not an elderly woman, and may be just a few years older than Linda and I. She is withdrawn. Shortly after introductions, Joanne got up, said goodbye and left. Moments later, she returned with a folded piece of paper from the bulletin board outside the room. "Is this the one you need, or did you want the other one?" she asked, handing it to Linda. Linda unfolded the paper. It was blank. "Were you going to write a note for me? Maybe they have a pen, or some crayons and you can write a note on here." Joanne said no, and left. I pointed out to Linda a juice can with marking pens on a shelf. She took them, and began making simple drawings on each of the panels of the folded paper. Blue stars on one, green christmas trees on another, red hearts on the third, and on the fourth, she wrote, "For Joanne." Later, we asked one of the aides to make sure she got it. We don't know what Joanne's reaction will be, but Linda said, "It doesn't matter. We made a connection with her."
Mom came in, and we had a fabulous visit. Mom was more "with it" than her alzheimers usually permits, and her humor showed through. In minutes, the room was filled with happiness. Other residents came in to wish Mom a Merry Christmas (the day after) and to be a part of the joy.
As a writer, I'm capable of taking a blank piece of paper and making it into whatever I choose: horror, drama, comedy or biography. Linda, skilled in healing and not writing, takes every DAY and fills that blank page with stars and trees and hearts. It's called Being It. More of us should try. That is my goal as I begin this new phase of my life.
If you need physical healing or wish to treat someone special or yourself to a relaxing swedish massage, call Healing Energy Massage at (585) 317-4070. Or visit Linda's website at www.RochestersBestMassage.com. If I could afford it, I would send you all gift certificates because she is wonderful, and so are you.
More later.
This is a lovely entry, Kerry, especially during the holiday season. Linda is a true friend and you are lucky to have her! This visit with your mom must have been very cleansing and what an awesome way to begin your new life! Best wishes for a fresh start this new year...that is surely what we are hoping for!
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