After he retired, a listener’s husband started to take less and less interest in grooming. In fact, he won’t even let her wash some of his clothes. Something’s amiss, and it could be serious:
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Six days before Teanne Harris of Chicago was to walk down the aisle in a glorious white gown, her fiance called off the nuptials.
When Harris and her mom went to the catering hall to cancel the reception, they were told that their deposit was nonrefundable.
Now, between being dumped at the altar and not getting her money back, I would expect a screaming meemee, locking herself in the bathroom, ripping up every picture of the two of them, screaming to all her friends, getting drunk, not showering – you know, the usual melodrama.
Not Ms. Harris! Leaving the catering hall, she noticed the Asbury Court Retirement Community across the street. So, instead of letting her Halloween-themed wedding reception go to waste, she decided to move the party to the retirement home, where more than 300 residents attended the party.
Harris had her bridal bouquet placed in the retirement home’s chapel.
She also went on the Hawaii trip anyway…the trip that was meant to be her honeymoon.
All I can say about this story is that she is a magnificent, spiritual human being, and the joker who left her did her a favor. I’m sure she’ll find a real man worthy of her mature and generous spirit.TrackBack URI
I read in my local paper about a formerly wealthy 90-year-old man who now has a job as a “greeter” in a local store. It seems the company that managed his money was making bad use of Bernard Madoff’s Ponzi scheme and all was lost…especially since this gentleman’s once fully-paid-for home was re-mortgaged to get a third of a million dollars more to invest in this debacle.
Ironically, one of the factors which keeps people alive longer and healthier in mind, body ,and soul is having work, i.e., some purpose and activity not only to occupy their minds and time but to challenge them.
Coincidently, a dear friend of mine owns and runs a lovely hair salon. It seems that every month she complains about the “young thing” at the front desk. It seems young women can’t be counted on to come to work regularly, much less on time and do their jobs as receptionists and appointment bookers. Obviously, this is not one of the highest-paid jobs in the universe, but young people today seem to feel entitled to “more” rather than grateful for “a foot in the door” and potential long-term opportunities.
Here’s where these two stories intersect: I told my friend that she should hire a retired, mature woman who would appreciate the extra money, would like contact with lots of people as colleagues and customers, and would probably love having her hair done for free. The mature woman would appreciate the excitement and daily mission, and my friend would probably get one of the most reliable workers she’s ever envisioned.
Were I hiring right now, I’d be a reverse “ageist” and get somebody with a work history and the maturity to appreciate an opportunity where they can still be important to somebody about something and get paid for it!TrackBack URI
According to a study being released in November’s American Journal of Geriatric Psychiatry, Internet web searching may just enhance brain activity and keep your elderly (55-75 years of age) brain working at top function.
The study compared 24 subjects between the ages of 55 and 75, and discovered using MRI scans that reading a book helped stimulate certain areas of the brain that had to do with language, memory, and visuals. They also found that searching the Internet created these same stimulations, but activated more of the frontal, temporal, and cingulated areas of the brain – areas that have a lot to do with decision-making skills.TrackBack URI
I received a ton of mail about the call I described in yesterday’s blog. The following letter from a listener is representative of the wide range of reactions people had to that call:
While listening to your program with my incredibly sexy husband yesterday, I couldn’t help but feel some sadness and frustration toward the caller who resented her loved one with dementia.
My grandparents, who will celebrate their 60th wedding anniversary in just over a month, are currently battling dementia, and watching the progression of the disease can be heart-wrenching. I spent so much time with my “Pop” and “Mi-mommy,” learning important principles like “Can’t never could do anything,” and “pretty is as pretty does.” They were known by others for their compassion, kindness, and wonderful wit.
They both began experiencing symptoms of dementia about three years ago, with simple forgetfulness turning into frequent short-term memory loss and the loss of the ability to perform simple tasks. Dementia is a progressive illness, and although they battle it with all their might by taking medications to help slow the disease, we can see the constant decline. Resentment has not been a feeling anyone has expressed.
When my grandfather tells the same story 5 or 6 times in a 30-minute period, we listen like it is the first time we’ve ever heard it told. When my grandmother weaves together in her mind multiple stories and comes up with a muddled collage of a past experience, we engage her and help her to recall the old memories. When they are struggling to remember how to pour water in a glass or operate the TV, we patiently help them recall. We don’t do it out of obligation or even to keep from feeling guilty. We do it because, years ago, THEY taught us to show kindness and love and compassion.
I work in hospice, and on a professional level, I know all too well the course this mean, aggressive disease takes. I cherish every moment that they can tell me a story, and I will treasure every time I hug them and they know who I am. I know that one day, I will sit down and hold their hands and they won’t be able to tell a story, and they won’t know who I am. They won’t be able to hold their heads up or smile, but I will still be there with them, because that’s the person they have helped me to become. If I sat with them and listened to them and held their hands every day for the rest of my life, there is no way I could repay them for what they have given me.
In October, I’ll be walking in the Alzheimer’s Association Memory Walk (http://www.alz.org/memorywalk/) in honor of my grandparents. I will do everything I can to fight this brutal disease and I beg those in our society to think about the compassion we owe our fellow man. A wise physician I once worked with said “The measure of a society can be seen in how we treat our young, our old, and our dying.” I pray that our society does not let me down, and that we treat our elders with the love, respect and dignity they deserve.
Striving to be half as wonderful as my grandparents,
I was a bit flabbergasted when a recent caller to my radio program described how incredibly resentful she was that her elderly aunt, deep in Alzheimer’s Disease, would repeat and repeat and repeat old history again and again and again. This caller was furious that her aunt wouldn’t recognize her, wouldn’t deal with the here and now, and was so “unbelievably annoying with the same old stories.”
What pressed my “flabbergasted” button the most was that this caller had been neglected and abandoned by her mother and father and had been raised by this aunt. Notions of gratitude, graciousness, patience and, above all, respect seemed beyond her view, as she was simply focused on what she wasn’t getting from her aunt now. This caller was no sensitive, confused, naïve teenager – she was in her late forties!
I explained that the word shouldn’t be “wouldn’t;” it is, indeed, “couldn’t.” It was as though the caller was hauling her resentment about her abandonment by her parents into this “mental abandonment” by her aunt, and making the decision not to see her aunt anymore out of ancient, misplaced rage.
By the end of the call, I think she understood and realized that, as uncomfortable and annoying as her aunt’s behavior might be, she was as honor-bound to be there for her aunt, as the aunt had been there for her.TrackBack URI