Motivation

From Cure Magazine's article

This morning, Mara Eve Robbins posted a poem I wrote a year ago on my personal Facebook wall. It needs editing, but it hit home. The poem was about a comparison between my mother and myself, about death, and about the forty pair of shoes my mother left behind. It's been a little over ten months since mom died, and the last pair of her shoes left her closet on April 4. My daughter and I packed them into the car for the trek back home. Then, my daughter and husband piled themselves into the car and left me with dad.

Yep, I'm back in the caregiving saddle again.

Mara's post also hit home, because it was just a year ago that I took off with her to stay at her house in Floyd, Virginia for Easter weekend. Did I realize it was Easter weekend at the time? No. Something has happened to my thinking over the past three years that disabled my ability to connect with the rest of the world. Except for Christmas, holidays don't seem to exist.

And, it's Poetry Month, and I'm not writing poetry. I haven't written anything in the memoir, either. I haven't written my blogs or anything else other than work for a  new client. While I can use that client work for an excuse, I think, frankly, that I just needed a break.

Darrell Laurent, long-time columnist for the Lynchburg newspaper and author of several books, wrote something this morning in his public Facebook Group, The Writers' Bridge. He wrote:

"Losing our motivation is part of the larger creative process. We wouldn't have the bursts of inspiration and productivity without the difficult creative dips. 

"When we lose our creative steam, not only does our writing come to a crawl, but we also start feeling low about ourselves. 

"For example, when you aren't writing, the feeling that you should be working nags at the back of your mind. This tension creates further stagnation and deepens the creative funk."

Some tips he provided included 1) Honoring the rest period; 2) recommit; and 3) talk about your work...among others. Those three points stuck with me.

Since I don't believe in coincidence, I honor the fact that Mara posted that poem and that Darrell posted that article. They both motivated me to blow through this fog and get something down in writing.

And, now that I've started, it seems the flood gates are opening in my head. There's just so much...so much.

Two major events happened recently regarding the book. Denise Brown at Caregiving and I had another little blog chat, this time about marriage (and the marriage, btw, is doing much better). That 1/2 hour discussion is available at Blog Talk Radio.

The other issue is the article in Cure Magazine about caregiving. I'm not sure why they have me in that article, because it opens with me, but doesn't go anywhere with me. The initial article was much more involved. But, they had a photographer come out to my town to take a photo, so I guess they felt compelled to use it. As a result, I have a speaking engagement in Louisville in August. This is a good thing.

Last, but not least, I'm been somewhat gainfully employed by Merchant Negotiators since January. I have conducted a lot of writing and research for that company over the past few months leading up to that site's "going live" this past week. Once again, I'm writing about financial issues. If I ever win the lottery, I know a lot about how to manage those winnings!

As for dad -- he's doing fine. He's actually doing great. I just needed to validate that information for myself. More about him later at my blog on Caregiving.com.

Beating the Flu

Dad's Gifts, Christmas 2014

Happy New Year! Sorry I've been absent over the holidays, but my body chose that time frame to contract the flu and hold onto it like it was gold. I'm not one of those individuals who likes to complain in public, but dang -- I feel for anyone with this flu, especially for those individuals who received the flu shot. Seems the authorities missed out on this strain big time.

Despite my down time, I accomplished a slew of tasks. I couldn't visit Dad over the holidays because of my illness (hubby was sick, too) and because we were strained financially by the loss of my last client. Still, my daughter and I managed to get out and purchase a few things for Dad and send them to him. He especially loved the kitchen scissors and the denture cleanser (something he can't find that easily where he lives). More about this effort at my Caregiving.com blog, I Won't Be Home for Christmas.

Also enjoyed the Caregiving.com Blog Party. I met a lot of new caregivers who blog about their experiences (many listed already in my "links" section), and I had quite a few visitors. Was happy to hear that "Jennifer" won the invisibility cloak that I offered as a prize. That cloak arrived from London the day before the winner was announced, and I'm sending it back out to Jennifer tomorrow. Hope she enjoys!

Making progress on the memoir, too. I'm looking forward to one more writer's retreat in January to finalize the poetry for the book. Then, by mid-February, I should be able to hand the book over to my editor. After a few beta reads, I'll self-publish the book and it should be available by May at the latest. To celebrate, I've created a website for the book and for future publications, too. Easy enough to remember -- lindagoin.com!

January 3 was a huge day for me, thanks to Denise at Caregiving.com (I happen to love that site, can you tell?). She provided an opportunity for me to plug my memoir and talk about caregiving during a live interview. That interview now is available online at Caregiving's Blog Talk Radio. Give yourself about 40 minutes to listen to us jabber away.

That's about it for now. I am feeling much better, and if you were sick (or if you're currently ill), I wish for your health to improve soon. Let's all focus on a great 2015 so we can stave off the monsters. Cheers~!

A Warm Welcome to the Blog Party!

Young woman decorates the Christmas tree, painting by Marcel Rieder (1862-1942) from 1898

A warm welcome for all my new visitors (and old friends as well). Today marks the beginning of the Caregiving.com's Fifth Annual Holiday Progressive Blog Party, and I'm one happy participant! Throughout the week of December 7, you can stop by the blogs of family caregivers and drop off holiday well-wishes and good cheer. This year, the party also includes companies that provides services and/or products to help family caregivers.

1. Be sure to stop by each site during the week. The sites are listed at Caregiving.com.
2. When you stop by, share a comment and let the blogger know you’re visiting because of CareGiving.com’s Holiday Progressive Blog Party.
3. Be sure to stop by that page at Caregiving.com regularly, as more participants may be added as the week goes by.

I was happy to be able to donate a prize for this party -- an invisibility cloak. Everyone (caregivers especially) would love a chance to become invisible every once in a while, I believe. Put on that cloak (provided by Cat at her Etsy shop -- if you don't win this cape, you can purchase one from Cat!).

Welcome, welcome, welcome. I hope you can stay a while...

Six Months In: Thoughts About Active Dying

"Life has many mysteries, but there is nothing comparable to death"

Tomorrow marks sixth months since my mother's death. The six month mark is especially difficult for spouses, so I'll be checking in on dad. For me, it hasn't been that rough (yet), because I've been so focused on other issues. But, that grieving timeline does affect me; otherwise, I wouldn't have woken with a start the other night thinking I had forgotten to flush mom's biliary catheter.

Those last three days before mom's death were breathtaking for me. The last coherent thing she did before she settled into her hospital bed in the living room for the last time was to pick out her urn. She dressed herself (with a little help), and held court with the funeral directors for about two hours. Then, she returned to her nightclothes and settled in for what appeared to be a 24-hour coma.

But, perhaps it wasn't a coma after all. I'm still learning about "active dying," or the end our "life in form," and how dying is a very active part of our lives. Death Cafe shared an interesting article this morning on Facebook, and I was thrilled to read the information contained in this piece about active dying. This article didn't focus on the usual 'list' of "are they dying yet" tips. Instead, this article speaks from a space that is both spiritual and physical. The third paragraph caught my attention immediately:

Often the time of death is preceded by an apparent coma, in which many things happen below conscious awareness. It is a great challenge to develop the spiritual guidance and inspiration, the vision and knowledge that can speak of the peace in surrender, and guide each other there.

Oh, that paragraph took me back to that moment six months ago, when I knew that mom heard everything that was going on around her. Although she seemed 'dead to the world,' she was active inside...her body was rapidly breaking down, and her mind was somewhere I couldn't touch. But, I knew she was still with me. She validated my assumption by becoming more communicative the day before she died, and by affirming she heard everything by answering some of my questions.

The article leans into Buddhism, and my mother was a deeply devout Christian. But, she often listened to my brother's Buddhist thoughts on spirituality, and she liked them. I think she would have enjoyed this article in another space and time, including its focus on metaphysical changes. Yes, metaphysical...the author is answering the questions, "what is ultimately there," and "what it is like."

If I take this article to heart, however, I'd have to laugh at the efforts that dad and I made to open the doors for her to hear the birds and to talk to her about the imaginary rabbits and turtles that we saw in the yard. According to the article, mom really wasn't aware of our efforts at the end...

During the period of the near-death reflex, the mind-body also experiences the release of beta-endorphins and other neuropeptides. The inner experience is a profound relaxation of the entire body, so profound that any awareness of the outside world disappears.

Ah, so. Dad and I were playing out those roles for ourselves. That's fine, too.

I know that I never would have remembered the information in this article while mom was alive. I was too concerned with her moment-to-moment living conditions. But now, looking back at those three days before her actual death, this article speaks to me like no other words have to this point.

For that revelation, I'm grateful.