Tag: #love

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

10 tips for taking care of our aging parents

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

Lenten Reflections #32

Caregiving is both a blessing and a challenge. Between my sisters and me, we manage our parents’ care. I’ve mentioned before that I live the furthest away, so I carry less of the load. Recently, I have been coming more on weekends to help out and have learned that just as I’m preparing to leave, I finally grasp the tips and tricks that make the day easier.

Things like:

  1. Be direct – Answer questions and don’t overexplain: the more complex the answer, the more confusion ensues.
  2. Give hope – Say yes to requests and ideas…if Mom thinks she’s going to recover the chairs in the kitchen, say YES, we can go to the fabric store.
  3. Stay calm – Calm begets calm
  4. Emphathize – Amid the moans and groans from aging and exhaustion from working outside, grab the heating pad, warm some tea, and use Aspercreme.
  5. Nourish – Never underestimate the power of Cheerios any time of day for Mom and a peanut butter sandwich for Dad.
  6. Go outside – Take a walk, sit in the shade, look up at the sky, and take notice.
  7. Laugh – Mom is amazing at laughing at herself, even if she puts her shirt on backwards or, this morning, her bra. She says, “You could write a story about this and call it Idiot’s Delight.”
  8. Let them – let them do as much as they can on their own. Independence is priceless.
  9. Love them – Remember you are still their child,d and they need your love even more than they need you to help put in their partials (teeth). Although both are very important.
  10. Listen – You’ve heard the stories a million times; let them tell it again.

What I learned:

I’m lucky to have my parents and my sisters, and I pray I have the same positivity as I grow older, even if I put my bra on backward someday.

Here’s to Another Good Day!

Thanks for joining me,

Lucretia

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

Writing is weighty

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

Lenten Reflections #21

For me, openly sharing my thoughts in a public forum is weighty. Perhaps it is because I hear my mom’s voice telling me and my sisters, “Be careful what you write down…followed by “and always pay your debts.” The former is what I hear when blogging, and the latter rings in my ears the rest of the day. Respecting Mom’s words, I take heed and trudge forward.

When I began sharing my writing with whomever would read it, I was conscious of the vulnerability clinging to every word. I knew it was a powerful way to connect with others, so I kept writing.

Then, while at my son’s baseball game a few years ago, I thought about this vulnerability and how it plays a sneaky James Bond role in all of our lives.

That sunny day, I sat next to a mom whose son was called up to pitch. As he stepped onto the mound, she turned to the parents in the stands and affirmed in her outside voice, “My son has only pitched ONCE IN HIS LIFE, so I don’t know what’s going to happen!”  I assured her we would not judge her or her son. Plus, now we knew he was hers, so we were bound to keep it positive. She continued as most parents would, by hollering, “Just have fun out there, son, and smile!!!” Roughly translated: don’t get hurt, and please, for the love of all that is holy, throw strikes. (Thankfully, there’s an unheralded empathy for parents who watch their child stand in any goal or dig their cleats into the rubber on a pitcher’s mound. Every parent inherently knows to cheer them on (the kids and the parents).

To be honest, when I started blogging, I kind of wanted my mom to also stand up and yell to the world,

“My daughter has only blogged ONCE IN HER LIFE, so I don’t know what is going to happen!”

She didn’t yell it, but she did encourage me to continue writing stories…and to pay off any debts “even if it is only a nickel!”

What I learned:

“Write straight into the emotional center of things. Write toward vulnerability. Risk being unliked.”  – Anne Lamott

Here’s to Another Good Day!

Thanks for joining me,

Lucretia

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

The blossom, like life, is fleeting

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

Lenten Reflections #17

While walking in Marshalls Store today, I passed by an elderly woman and saw she had a bright pink cherry blossom wreath in her basket.

“What a beautiful wreath!” I told her.

“It is, isn’t it?” She agreed.

I went on to say the wreath would brighten up any space.

“It’s for my daughter’s grave,” she said, wilting a little. “She died one year ago, and since her tombstone hasn’t been placed yet, I thought I would find a way to use this to dress it up.”

“It’s absolutely perfect,” I said. She went on to tell me her husband also died just three weeks shy of their 75th anniversary, at age 100 and 6 months.

“That’s the way life is,” she continued. I leaned in a little, thinking she was about to give me the secret to what life “is,” but instead, she stared at the flowers on the wreath.

I remembered my years in DC, where the cherry blossom trees define spring and renewal. After a few weeks, the delicate petals on the trees float off, symbolizing the impermanence of our fleeting lives.

As our conversation slowed, she said, ” I’m 95 years old.”

“What a blessing!” I said.

“Sometimes I’m not sure if it is or not.” She said, her voice tired.

“So nice talking to you,” I said…and God bless you…The wreath really is — absolutely perfect.”

She smiled, touched my arm, gave it a mom squeeze, and continued pushing her basket toward the clothing section where her caretaker waited.

What I learned:

My five-minute conversation with one kind, elderly woman was priceless to me, as were the connections we made. I pray she will find peace.

I also pray that maybe someone stop in and chat with my parents when they are out and about. They won’t be at Marshalls, but maybe Goodwill, Trader Joe’s, a yard sale, or the Commissary. Sharing a moment with someone and listening to their stories is lubrication for the soul.

Here’s to Another Good Day!

Thanks for joining me,

Lucretia

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

Mom’s Dementia

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

40 Reflections – #12:  40 days of raw recollections during the Lenten Season

I’m not sure when we transitioned from the word “forgetting” to Dementia when referring to Mom’s sweet mind. “My memory is not so great anymore,” she’ll say. My three sisters and I learned tips to lessen her pain of not remembering. Things like: Don’t start a sentence with “Remember when…” or ask”What did you eat for breakfast?” or “How many teaspoons of salt in tortillas?” It’s a process. My sisters are pros; I, on the other hand, plop in for intermittent visits and say the wrong things, but in that sense, dementia will work its black magic and present her mind with a clean slate.

I wrote a few quick essays about my most recent trips to see my parents, which I’ll share here. They are simply passing moments in my experience with them. Now 86 and 89 years old, they have been married 65 years next month. I reminded them separately of the milestone date, and they both had the same reaction, “That’s all!!!!?”

Here’s to Another Good Day with Mom and Dad

Wednesday 11:00 pm –

I arrived home late, too late for Mom to understand it was me, so I led with my blanket line, “It’s your daughter Lucretia”. I realized there was a good chance she was too exhausted to get it because sleep is critical for every age and in all functioning. They were clearly exhausted. Dad was trying to run out and give our friends who picked me up from the airport carne seca (jerky), but they had already headed home. Dad just wants to thank and give and be a part of the world. When your mind rarely rests, like his, activity and social stimulation are healing.

It’s sobering helping your mom figure out which end of the toothbrush gets the paste because now toothbrushes are huge or helping her find the back of her PJs. This is the same mom who could solve the puzzle of Simplicity sewing patterns, notches, and all. She could sew anything, measure, adjust, and add zippers, ruffles, and sleeves with ease. She’s my hero. She wanted 10,000 times more of what she had for us. And by God, she made it happen. Looking back, I bet with every application she typed (real-deal typed) for us, whether for a college, scholarship, award, or 4-H whatever, she probably thought, you know what, these girls are going to devour this world and spit it out when they are done. Totally crush it. 

What I learned:

Dementia stinks. But I am so grateful for every visit to see my parents.

Here’s to Another Good Day – even the tough ones.

Thanks for joining me,

Lucretia


Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

Angels Among Us

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

#9 – Lenten Reflections – 40 Raw reflections during the Lenten Season

A few weeks ago I went to visit my parents. I’m the youngest of four girls and my parents, now 86 and 89 require more caretaking these days. Before I left, I let my students know I was going for a few days to take care of my parents. As always, I tried to weave a life lesson into why I needed to go. I excel in overexplaining.

I began, “You see your parents take care of you now and then someday when they get older, you’ll take care of them. Also, my mom is having cataract surgery.” Suddenly there were a few connections to the word surgery. “Ohhhh…my mom had surgery on her knee!”

“My dog had special surgery too! Wait, what is surgery?”

“Can we play the chair game or do a scavenger hunt?”

The subject change sounded a lot like my own children’s strategy. Abort! Eject! Way too much information. I lost them in the life lesson.

Maybe some of the first graders were listening…either way, they knew where I’d be out for a few days. I’m sure they jotted it on their Google calendars. Ha.

After my return to school, class began like any other Monday. First grade came in bustling, loud, and joyful. As the kids took off their jackets and found their spots on the rug, Reagan, a bright-eyed girl, strode over, looked directly at me, and asked, “How are your parents?”

Tears welled up in my eyes. I was floored by her sincerity. I hugged her, thanked her, and told her they were doing well. They are just older. But I’m so lucky to have them. “Oh good,” she said. I spoke to her like I would an old confidant. One of those gem friends where you can pick up right where you left off. An angel with a high ponytail wearing a plaid skirt and a blue polo shirt.

Reagan skipped off, plopped down on the carpet and immediately reached over to the friend next to her and began tying his shoes for him. Another boy chimed in, “She ties mine too. I mean my dad is trying to teach me at home but Reagan ties mine here.”

I shook my head and thought, wow…this six-year-old has more love in her heart than I’ve witnessed in years. Thank God for the Reagans in the world.

What I learned:

Some people, no matter their age see a great need. They load up bottles of water in their cars and hand them to the thirsty, one soul at a time.

They start small. Maybe check on a friend, listen to someone’s story, tie a shoe.

Simple gifts are empathy. Simple gifts are healing. Simple gifts mean never leaving anyone out. Jesus didn’t. Even Judas got a place at the table.

Here’s to another good day. Please pray for a quick recovery for the Pope.

Thank you for joining me,

Lucretia

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

One word to stop using…

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

40 Reflections – #5:  40 days of raw recollections during the Lenten Season

Ever wake up, glance at the clock, and say, “I SHOULD have gotten up earlier” only to follow it up with “I SHOULD have gone to the gym, prepped dinner, called my parents, run with the dogs, played with the kids, or checked the pockets for that pen before I tossed everything in the wash?”

The “S” word is verifiably toxic, yet to avert our gaze away from what our lives would look like if we accomplished all of the SHOULDS is nearly impossible. Haven’t you marveled at the early birds who amble into work chatting about their early morning run, seamless commute, or the dinner menu they prepared for the month?

Let’s ditch the SHOULD have narrative with three easy tips:

  1. BE YOURSELF:  Change the lens through which you see yourself, and celebrate who you are and where you are today.
  2. ACCEPT AND ALLOW:  Your reality may be vacant of the plans you slated for yourself years ago, but by clutching onto the people we love, our SHOULD HAVE world dissipates. Some say, “Let go, Let God” It’s worth a shot.
  3. SET YOUR INTENTIONS: Our deepest hopes are shaped by our intentions. Step out of the noise, serve others, find your passion, and share it!

What I learned:

When our minds harp on these unaccomplished actions, we sadly allow the present moment to circle the drain. All of the should haves coupled with regret keep popping up. I run low on forgiveness – mostly towards myself and allowing the “Did Not Do” list to ruin my day. I have heard that forgiveness is our work on earth. So let’s start with ourselves and those around us. Celebrate the now and keep moving forward.

DIG DEEP:  On your next run or walk, bring a friend, and you do the listening.

Please Pray for the Pope…he’s improving.

Thank you for joining me,

Lucretia

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

Cultivating Selflessness

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

#2 Lenten Reflections

The other day I was waiting to board my flight to Atlanta and overheard an anxious young woman discuss her seat location with her husband. She held a frothy coffee in one hand and phone in the other, and nervously said, “The agent said I’d have to wait until I was on the plane to change seats. I let her know I just can’t sit in an exit row. Not with all the recent flight accidents. It’s not my turn, I am not the person to sit in that seat…not this time.” I watched as her husband sat silently, nodding in agreement.

I settled into the comfy, leather-like seat at the Albuquerque airport and pondered her words. “It’s not my turn.” I applauded her honesty and clarity in knowing what she could and could not handle. But when is it our turn? When do we raise our hands to help another, give the Heimlich maneuver to someone choking, or save the child running into the road? Are some people just innately selfless?

Richard Lui, is a journalist and author of  Enough About Me: The Unexpected Power of Selflessness where he explored self-sacrifice as he cared for his father with Alzheimer’s. Along with practicing acts of kindness and showing gratitude, Lui recommends building selflessness muscles. Muscle memory is what helps us remember how to swing a bat or ride a bike. So training your brain to choose others over yourself will build up your selflessness muscles.

My Connection…

Years ago, one of my three older sisters retired from her job after 30 years as a software engineer to care for our parents. She didn’t take a big trip around the world to celebrate her successful career or become a master gardener, she and her husband simply sold their home and moved closer to Mom and Dad. All four of us pitch in, but as the primary caretaker, she is the driver, the contact for the doctors, the shopper, the organizer, the constant in their lives that brings them the comfort of knowing they can make it through today and tomorrow. I have never known someone so incredibly selfless and generous. There are 53 million Americans who are caretakers in the United States, and she is one of those saints who has a special place in heaven just for her.

So whether you’re ready to brave the exit row today or on your next flight, give a little bit of yourself.

Pope Health Update: According to the Vatican, he “remained stable compared to previous days” and did not have “episodes of respiratory insufficiency”. Please pray for him.

Thanks for joining me,

Lucretia

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

Words connect and carry us

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

Lenten Reflections #27

As I get older, I’ve heard the line, “I’m becoming my mother” more and more from my friends. “Me too” I concur. The way she rolls her tortillas in just one direction, or nods off in her chair. The way she fights for her family above all and the way she pounds her chest in a mea culpa at mass.

Luckily I was blessed with a mom who nourished us with love and common sense. She measures her words like a baker uses a knife to smooth the flour across a measuring cup, precisely and without an ounce of overflow. If Mom says it, she means it. One of the many traits I’ve picked up from Mom is threading “dichos” or sayings in my conversations.

So on one of my recent visits home with my parents, I made a list of all the Spanish and some “Spanglish” sayings they use. The one new phrase that resonated with me was: “Son los años compadre.” This means: it’s the years, my friend. This is used to assuage their frustration when they can’t remember where they set their glasses or are disappointed because they are tired after doing a fraction of the yard work they used to do. So they sit on the patio exhausted and say “Son los años compadre” like a confession – an exhale – a declaration: we’re getting older, let’s have a seat in the shade, drink some Gatorade and rest.

Aging takes its toll on all of us. First thing in the morning my Dad will say, “Come on body! Join me!” My mom lovingly teases Dad about his arthritis in his hands as the tip of his index finger points south. “Watch Dad point,” she tells me chuckling…it’s always something on the ground he needs.”

Their routine continually changes, zipping around in the truck to run several errands, and detouring to yard sales just doesn’t happen anymore. They still spend much of the day working in the yard which they are so grateful for, yet the amount of work wanes with the years. “We feel like if the sun is out, we should be out,” says Dad. So they plant and prune, check on each other, feed the cranes, rearrange the woodpile, take apart anything that has metal and can be recycled, and breathe in the fresh air.

Once back inside, the aches and pains kick in, and through all the “Ay, yai, yai’s” I can hear Mom say, “Son los años compadre.”

Dad replies, “Yo se, pura ay, yai, yai.” (I know all I say is ay, yai, yai).

They have a good laugh, another glass of water, Pedialyte, or Boost, rest, and watch the hummingbirds buzz around like they used to and drink their fill of sweet water.

Quotes I love:

My father’s wit, and my mother’s tongue, assist me!

Shakespeare – Love’s Labour’s Lost

Thanks for joining me,

❤️Lucretia

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

Caretaking management – my minutia marches on

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

#23 Lenten Reflections

When it comes to taking care of our parents, we have a system. When I say “we” I really mean my sisters. One sister is the manager of us all and does a zillion tasks daily. The other two do a million things and I, call Mom and Dad a lot, yet it feels like not enough.

I am also in charge of…wait for it…calling the exterminator. This is crazy because growing up Mom and Dad would NEVER spend money on someone to kill bugs. In fact, when we were kids my oldest sister was hunting all over the yard for insects so she could pin them in a box for her entomology projects. So essentially, she was our exterminator. Of course we had a few stray mouse traps around. And no home in the 70’s and 80’s was complete without a fly swatter. Dad would walk around the house with that thing, swinging at flies, scooping them up, and saying, “Sorry guy”. Late at night, I remember grabbing that same swatter and hunting the relentless chirping South Valley crickets also.

Growing up I shared a room with my sister and if there was a spider sighting in our room, she was on a mission. The entire room was vacuumed top to bottom, furniture rearranged and the spider and its family was sucked into an Electrolux vacuum bag. I played it cool, and got out of my sister’s way. All I had to remember was which side of the bed to get up on in my nice, clean room.

But as the years passed, the bugs showed up more frequently when we visited and didn’t bother Mom and Dad) so I said, “I’ll take care of the exterminator!”

I took the job seriously and when hunting for the right bug guy or gal. I, of course, tried to find someone who spoke Spanish, mainly so Dad had someone to visit with while spraying poison around the house. I also had to make sure mom’s plants were not harmed in the process. All went well, but unfortunately, after the visit, I got a call from Dad, and nope! Antonio knew only a little Spanglish. “El Antonio no habla español,” Dad told me after his visit…” but a nice guy!

Darn it Antonio, couldn’t you fake it?! ——I had ONE JOB! 🙂

Per routine, Dad quizzed me on the cost. “What does that run?”

Then he usually shoots out a guess – “What? Like $50?”

I respond…”Más or menos…see not bad!”.

So the ants marched on, Dad got to visit with someone, Mom’s tomatoes and jalapeños were safe, and I made a small contribution from a distance. I’ll call them right now too.

I love my parents.

Take time for each other. Life is fleeting.

Thanks for joining me,

❤️Lucretia

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

Gifts from my sisters…

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

#19 Lenten Reflections

Mom and Dad have always referred to us, their daughters as, “The Girls”. Since I live the furthest from my dear parents I don’t get the daily dose of them, but thanks to my sisters, I get the gifts of stories and photos.

Here’s a sampling:

Every night around 7:00 pm EST I get a text from one of my sisters that says:

✅ Meds Done!

That means Mom has been called and has taken her medicine. My oldest sister usually calls Alexa with the camera where you can see/spy on the goings-on in the kitchen and will talk Mom through it. Thanks to my super caretaker sister, we have a perfectly designed medicine chart and color-coded dots on all the bottles to make it easier. When I call to help her, Mom will say jokingly, “Are you just going to watch us all day from that thing?”

Sometimes one of us will call the landline during “Meds for Mom” and Dad will answer hastily, so excited to connect everyone on the devices. “Hey! We’ve got Lucretia on the Alexa, say hi!” We all say hello in our sing-songy voices and then one of us says we’ll call back.

On Thursdays, I get a picture of a bountiful bunch of fruits and vegetables from the “Food Pharmacy” a program where local farms and my parent’s hospital arrange delivery of in-season produce for Senior Citizens. Something to look forward to and a healthy addition to their meals.

On Mondays, I get a report of how the Pilates class went for Mom. My sister tells us whether the cool teacher, Richard, was there or if the substitute, “lady” ran the class. The “lady” (as mom calls her) is not great or, in other words, she’s not Richard.

Note: I’ve learned change isn’t great for anyone over 75. This is why they still make agitators in washing machines, regular Coca-Cola, and ironing boards. Therefore, when a newbie tries to win the hearts of senior citizens who simply want to stretch their bodies and maybe throw in a plank or two, she better connect with them quickly. (Maybe she could talk about her love for clotheslines).

After Pilates, I get a picture like this from the Casino where Mom and Dad have breakfast with the “gang”, enjoy their free coffee, and then disperse throughout the casino to play their games of choice.

Here are Dad’s tips to make the most of their casino time: 1) Play only nickel slots 2) Each person starts with $10 3) Everyone takes turns and is supportive 4) If your $10 is dwindling, keep trying new machines with the remaining money 5) Leave immediately if you are winning big OR have spent the allotted allowance.

Finally, my favorite photos are when I see Mom and Dad doing the things they love like working outside or making chili…just like the good old days.

I’m so lucky to have “The Girls” and Mom and Dad and blessed with updates and glimpses into their day.

Thanks for joining me…I pray you and yours are connecting as often as makes you happy,

❤️Lucretia