Woke up this morning to the first real snow of the season. Chilly, sloppy, wet stuff that soaked through my shoes as I walked. I was thinking as I trudged along that, although I love winter, this kid of west-coast start to it always depresses me. The sky was dark and angry looking early today. A bit later it cleared and the sun even shone for a short time. But my mood hasn't changed. The internal experience reminds me of many winter days in Ottawa - dark, heavy and wet.
In all likelihood, my mood is also related to he day I will likely have tomorrow. In charge of worship in the morning, Lodge practice at 2:00 PM, then a potluck at the church at 5:30, and a presentation on the Israeli-Palestinian situation and the United Church's resolution on boycotting goods produced by Israelis in the incursion areas of the Occupied territories. That should be informative, but it's a long day, with very little in the way of breaks. A sign of age, I suppose…
I had a productive and interesting day at work yesterday. I did some planning for Sundays coming up in the morning, and then in the afternoon, I visited an elderly lady in The Lodge, and an old couple where the wife is just out of hospital. The difference between these two situations was dramatic. The lady in the Lodge is alone in the world, even tough she has two sons. They visit her, but she is separated from her husband by their different living needs. He is in a Care facility - an Alzheimer's patient- and she, even with the beginnings of Parkinson's disease, can live a bit more independently. The situation means that after 60 years of marriage, they are wrenched apart overnight - a medically forced divorce, if you like. She gets her son to take her to the nearby city where he lives, perhaps every three weeks. She misses him terribly, and told me a couple of times about the sixty year marriage.
It seems so cruel, and yet necessary, given the limits of our system. It's interesting to me that she feels so alone even though her sister takes her out to church in her old home town quite regularly, and her boys call quite often. But, as she said, looking around her quite nice bachelor apartment situation, "It's not home."
Over my decades in ministry, i have reflected on the fact that when people become unable to live independently, they are given access to care, but often feel "put away" in the literal sense. One woman told me, many years ago, that once a person is institutionalized, the church effectively "excommunicates" them, loses track of them, and they disappear. I'm actually pleased that part of my responsibility in this part-time, short-term position, is finding and visiting these people - assuring them that they are not forgotten, at least not by everyone.
The old couple I saw are still able to live in their own small but comfortable home. Each is active in the things they enjoy. The extrovert wife can get out and visit with her friends, while the introvert husband gardens his head off all summer, and creates beautiful wood-worked items all winter. And they are together, and see their kids regularly. Of course, things could change drastically if one of them collapsed, or became demented. They are both sharp and intelligent at the moment. Down the road, who knows?
Of course, inevitably, I wondered about my own situation.The day may come when I am unable to live safely in my own home. With great trepidation I look at the possibility of instant separation from Beatrix, and being cast among strangers with whom I would be expected to interact. Feels like work without end.
Perhaps this fear in the background is one of the factors that keeps pushing me back to work all the time. Even though my energy isn't what it once was, I enjoy being involved and somewhat useful in my professional life. That tells me that I am still alive and active, reinforcing the positives against the negatives I fear. I could learn a lot from the old gentleman I talked with yesterday. He has two hobbies that e loves, and he can immerse himself comfortably in these without anxiety in his own home. He seemed a very healthy man, with a lively and healthy partner, even though she has medical problems. Talking with people like them, I am in a learning situation, where I can watch and evaluate approaches to life that could serve me well. Perhaps I should seek out a Seniors group that would discuss these things together. I need a friend or two. That would help me t live a bit less alone, even though I have a partner who is a huge part of my life. This kind of struggle is mine alone, as I suspect it is with all of us as we age. Enough for today. Back soon, I hope.
In all likelihood, my mood is also related to he day I will likely have tomorrow. In charge of worship in the morning, Lodge practice at 2:00 PM, then a potluck at the church at 5:30, and a presentation on the Israeli-Palestinian situation and the United Church's resolution on boycotting goods produced by Israelis in the incursion areas of the Occupied territories. That should be informative, but it's a long day, with very little in the way of breaks. A sign of age, I suppose…
I had a productive and interesting day at work yesterday. I did some planning for Sundays coming up in the morning, and then in the afternoon, I visited an elderly lady in The Lodge, and an old couple where the wife is just out of hospital. The difference between these two situations was dramatic. The lady in the Lodge is alone in the world, even tough she has two sons. They visit her, but she is separated from her husband by their different living needs. He is in a Care facility - an Alzheimer's patient- and she, even with the beginnings of Parkinson's disease, can live a bit more independently. The situation means that after 60 years of marriage, they are wrenched apart overnight - a medically forced divorce, if you like. She gets her son to take her to the nearby city where he lives, perhaps every three weeks. She misses him terribly, and told me a couple of times about the sixty year marriage.
It seems so cruel, and yet necessary, given the limits of our system. It's interesting to me that she feels so alone even though her sister takes her out to church in her old home town quite regularly, and her boys call quite often. But, as she said, looking around her quite nice bachelor apartment situation, "It's not home."
Over my decades in ministry, i have reflected on the fact that when people become unable to live independently, they are given access to care, but often feel "put away" in the literal sense. One woman told me, many years ago, that once a person is institutionalized, the church effectively "excommunicates" them, loses track of them, and they disappear. I'm actually pleased that part of my responsibility in this part-time, short-term position, is finding and visiting these people - assuring them that they are not forgotten, at least not by everyone.
The old couple I saw are still able to live in their own small but comfortable home. Each is active in the things they enjoy. The extrovert wife can get out and visit with her friends, while the introvert husband gardens his head off all summer, and creates beautiful wood-worked items all winter. And they are together, and see their kids regularly. Of course, things could change drastically if one of them collapsed, or became demented. They are both sharp and intelligent at the moment. Down the road, who knows?
Of course, inevitably, I wondered about my own situation.The day may come when I am unable to live safely in my own home. With great trepidation I look at the possibility of instant separation from Beatrix, and being cast among strangers with whom I would be expected to interact. Feels like work without end.
Perhaps this fear in the background is one of the factors that keeps pushing me back to work all the time. Even though my energy isn't what it once was, I enjoy being involved and somewhat useful in my professional life. That tells me that I am still alive and active, reinforcing the positives against the negatives I fear. I could learn a lot from the old gentleman I talked with yesterday. He has two hobbies that e loves, and he can immerse himself comfortably in these without anxiety in his own home. He seemed a very healthy man, with a lively and healthy partner, even though she has medical problems. Talking with people like them, I am in a learning situation, where I can watch and evaluate approaches to life that could serve me well. Perhaps I should seek out a Seniors group that would discuss these things together. I need a friend or two. That would help me t live a bit less alone, even though I have a partner who is a huge part of my life. This kind of struggle is mine alone, as I suspect it is with all of us as we age. Enough for today. Back soon, I hope.
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