Reframing

My sister introduced me to reframing years ago, and it’s something I’ve been using successfully every since. It ties in well with other inside-voice chants of mine: It’s all about choices! Look for the silver lining! Onwards, with love. We regularly text each other with a fact and our re-framed take of that fact - from the super simple (I invited a friend for tea on the deck but it’s pouring rain . . . but how great for the garden, and OK, now I’m going to have to hoover the worst of the cat hair & clean the washrooms) to the more serious (Doug’s absolute lack of recognition when I visit breaks my heart . . . but I love that he’s no longer angry or sad when I leave, and I’m glad to think he’s not lonely without me when I’m not there). It’s becoming, slowly, a (good) habit - but it’s still not automatic, and it’s certainly not always easy. 

Shovelling snow in North Bay, November, 2017 (We cleared the driveway even though we didn't own a car . . . but how lucky were we to be able to move the snow, to get the fresh air & exercise, to reap all the benefits of living in a country with such glorious winter weather?!)

And then, every so often, I discover another way of looking at things which seems to make the process of reframing a titch less difficult. I was recently introduced to a wonderful blog, and the line in this post really spoke to me. “Having never been a 10 year old boy, sometimes I forget that he hasn’t been either, and all of the things he’s going through are absolutely new to him, too.”

Taking photographs in London, England, 2017

Ah! Lightbulb! Doug has never before been a person living with late stage Dementia, and I have never before been a caregiver for a husband living with late stage Dementia. All the things he’s currently going through are new to him, and new to me. We both have to adjust, but we’ll get through this. (It’s only a learning curve, not dissimilar to the learning curve I’m experiencing with my new job.)

Researching, Normandy, France, 2017

I have also recently re-read a workbook, Forget Me Not, which Doug started (but never finished) in November 2017. At the time it was so sad to watch him struggle to write (hindsight, hindsight - he could still write then!) but I’m glad he captured and saved these few words. “What comforts you when you’re upset? My wife - always.” 

“What comforts you when you’re upset? My wife - always.” I hope this is still true. 

On Not Judging

I  judge. All the time. I form instant critical (negative) opinions based on little to no evidence  . . . and I’m sure there are many more times when I’m not even aware that I’m being judgemental because I’m viewing life through my personal, deeply held belief system. (Life would be bleak indeed without books. Travel is the greatest life experience. Education is important. Wealth is only an indication of wealth.)

I have just started a new teaching job for the summer, which I am absolutely loving. I’ve changed the route I take to campus, however, so as to avoid a billboard with a photoshopped (I am assuming!) picture of a very slender woman in a tiny bikini: “Fat Attack. Summer 2021. This is MY summer.” 

Who came up with that advertising campaign? Who okayed it? Was that really the best they could do? Did they not think about the message they’re giving their viewers? 

Really?!  In 2021?!  It’s not enough that I’m doing my very best to survive a global pandemic . . . I’m also supposed to be worrying about having a beach ready bikini body? As if my body shape &/ or the number on a scale is in any way connected to my self worth. As if my body &/ or that number on the scale is not the very least interesting thing about me. As if anyone at my funeral will comment that yeah, I was a kind person, but too bad about that belly/ those extra pounds. As if thinner = happier, or thinner = better, or  . . . . This is an old rant: it makes me tired, it makes me angry, and it makes me sad. But I will keep ranting, and pushing for change, because change won’t happen with silence. 

Oops. That was only supposed to be a brief example of how much I know I judge complete strangers, and how society makes it so easy for people to judge complete strangers.

Nope. Not including a photo of that dang billboard here - the advertiser needs no more publicity. Instead, here's a tub of ice cream I recently bought myself. And ate. And enjoyed. (And yeah, technically it's not ice cream, because it's dairy-free.) 

I don’t understand anti-vaxxers, but I am trying to listen to them without instant negative judgement. I don’t understand people who support a politician I distrust and strongly dislike, but I am trying to listen to them without instant negative judgement. (So far epic fail in both cases, but I’ll keep trying.)

Piper, my cat, continues to teach me what truly unconditional love looks like. 

It’s not at all helpful when someone tells me that, “I would never do X! I could never do that!” 

Move a loved one into a long term care home. Visit every single day. Not visit every single day. Take a loved one off drugs. Put a loved one on drugs. Take a loved one home for a visit. Not take a loved one home for a visit. 

I don’t know what I’ll do until I’m faced with making the decisions I have to make, but then I do the very best I can with the information I have.  

I will try my best to support whatever decision someone else makes for her loved one - I only ask in return that that person do the same for me. Without judgement. 

Better Living Through Chemistry

I was raised by a Physicist-Mathematician and a Biologist - so it’s not entirely surprising that I believe in Science, fact-based decisions, empirical evidence. (Please, please, please don’t send me a FaceBook “article” about how adding mushrooms, coconut oil, and rosemary to a diet, or eliminating gluten, cheese, and margarine, will cure Dementia. I appreciate you thinking about Doug, but rather than forwarding those “scientific breakthroughs!!” to me, I would be happier if you performed an anonymous act of kindness. As of this moment in time, there is no cure for Dementia. Thank you.) 

I am also a fiction writer, so I strongly believe in the power of imagination. Though I don’t think, two years ago, I could have imagined Covid, or how it would change the world, or that in June 2021 both Doug and I would have received our first and second jabs and would be as fully vaccinated as possible against it.  

March, 2021

June, 2021

Post-Covid life will never be the same as pre-Covid life (she writes, stating the obvious) - but the vaccination is helping me see a way forward: yesterday my sister was able to visit Doug for the first time since March 2019. Our nephew, our nieces, my brother-in-law, and my Mum will all also be able to visit him. #family for the win

It’s been hot and sunny where I live this week; when I water my garden rainbows appear, arcing between the spray of water and the seedlings in the earth. (“If you have a garden and a library, you have everything you need.” – Marcus Tullius Cicero) 

It feels especially fitting, given that June is Pride month. Rainbows everywhere. Love everywhere. Doug and I went to the Gay Pride parade in Toronto several times; we both loved giving out ‘Mum hugs’ and ‘Dad hugs’ (yes, yes, pre-Covid, when hugs were risk-free) (and yes, yes, even though I am not a Mum and he is not a Dad). #love for the win #hope for the future