jmgoyder

wings and things

Mar 16

Tomorrow is always waiting for you.

by jmgoyder

Today was pretty awful and was made worse by a mother/son argument that escalated into recriminations, guilt, and ‘walk away’ tactics. To some extent, this worked but Ming and I were still so miserable – he in his shed and me in the house. So we began texting each other and have now established that I am the boss and he is the slave and he has even called me ‘Commander’; this is a good move.

Oh the joy of tomorrow! Of course tomorrow brings a fair few uncertainties but it mostly brings the excitement of anticipation, adventure and something new and fresh … and a new Ming, a new me and, maybe, a new Anthony!

Tomorrow is a gift.

blogging Family Friendship Grief Happiness LOVE STORY Parkinson's disease Wings

36 Comments »
Mar 16

Guilt

by jmgoyder

I thought it was time I owned up to the fact that I am definitely not the wonderful, caring wife all of the time. The reason I am admitting this is because hopefully other care-givers will forgive themselves for the things I have to forgive myself for.

Anthony’s visits home are becoming more difficult and, consequently, less frequent. For example much of today was spent in the world of ablutions. With Parkinson’s disease, everything slows down and continence is a problem. Luckily, Ants (who looked after his own mother when this happened) doesn’t get the least bit embarrassed any more by the ‘accidents’ and I try my best not to be impatient and/or revolted.

On our second slow trip to the bathroom, I growled at him, “This better be the last bloody time, Ants!” And, to my shame, I also said, very impatiently, “Just walk, Ants – it’s only two more steps to the loo – WALK!” But, as soon as I raised my voice, he whispered, “Sorry, Jules” and my heart broke and I became gentle again.

After the toilet adventures, we were all back in the kitchen while I prepared lunch – another ordeal because Anthony isn’t good with cutlery now and makes a terrible mess which distresses him. Also, he can’t swallow properly so drools a lot (we always have a ‘dribble rag’ nearby) – I escaped to my little office at the back of the house. I should have been in the kitchen with Ming and Ants but, even after just a couple of hours, I wanted to escape.

Ming wanted to escape too and it was almost as if he and I were doing shifts with Ants. While I dealt with the ablutions, Ming escaped to his shed and, while he and Ants ate lunch, I escaped.

I am not sure what I am escaping from but the diminished presence of Anthony seems to suck the energy out of me. We sit together and there is NO conversation most of the time. He is silent, blank-faced and so bent over that his face nearly touches the table.

One of his favourite shows was on TV (Doc Martin), but he can no longer focus or understand what is going on, so, at one point, I turned the volume down so we could talk but by 2.30pm he was beginning to visibly wilt. At that point, Ming came back from his shed again and I whispered, “Can you take him back now? I can’t stand another minute of this nothingness.”

So Ming has just taken a reluctant Ants back to the nursing home and I am wishing that I had hugged him more than three times. His Parkinson’s is beginning to win over the medications now so he is increasingly immobile – it will be a wheelchair soon. Then he will be bedridden. Then he will have to be tube-fed.

Yes, life is a good thing and today had its good moments as well, of course, but to die sooooo slowly from this ghastly disease is a form of torture – not just physical, but emotional.

I love Anthony so much but I couldn’t wait for him to be gone again and I will have to forgive myself for that. Again and again. Guilt.

blogging Grief Happiness LOVE STORY Parkinson's disease

73 Comments »
Mar 15

A conversation with dementia

by jmgoyder

I realize that the title of this post sounds odd but sometimes, in my conversations with Anthony, it is as if I am talking to two people: 1. Anthony-familiar (Ants); and 2. Anthony-with-dementia (AD). Here is a rendition of today’s conversation in the nursing home.

Ants: When did you get here?
Me: Right this minute.
Ants: Where did you come from?
Me: Home.

AD: Ming and I got all of those calves rounded up and into the paddock in front of the house. They are all in good condition.
Me: Oh! When did you do this?
AD: Yesterday, after you left. We also fixed the fence.
Me: That’s fantastic – thank you.
AD: You don’t need to thank me – it’s my job.
Me: Yes, but it’s a relief to know all of the calves are okay and the fence is finally fixed. I was a bit worried.
AD: Ming is a good worker.
Me: Well you and Ming are a great team. It’s wonderful that you are teaching him how to do these things because I wouldn’t have a clue.
AD: We just need to fix up the other boundary fence now [trying to get up out of his chair]
Me: Well Ming isn’t here now so can we wait until tomorrow when you come home?
AD: Okay.

Ants: Bloody rotten about Ming’s back.
Me: Well your back isn’t the best but look how well you coped.
Ants: I think his is worse. He could have done anything if he didn’t have that back.
Me: We just have to accept it now, Ants – Ming has.

AD: I’m still going to need his help though, on the farm.
Me: Of course!
Ants: Tomorrow?
Me: Yes.

Tomorrow is Sunday so I will be picking Ants up around 10.30am to come home for the day, and Ming will take him back to the nursing home in the afternoon. Ants has requested smoked salmon and avocado sandwiches so that is easily done.

I would be lying if I said I am looking forward to tomorrow because, no matter how much I want Ants home, and no matter how much he will love being home, it is going to be an extremely difficult day for Ming and me. There will be a lot of lifting, toiletting, confusion, frustration, barely restrained angst (Ming), and barely restrained sorrow (me). By 3pm Anthony will begin to falter and by 4pm he will be unable to walk at all so I will have to get Ming to take him back to the nursing home at 3pm and Anthony will get upset.

On the other hand, perhaps I should just alter my thinking a bit. We will have four hours together, the sandwiches will be delicious and we will give Anthony a million hugs. In fact, I reckon the whole hug thing is underrated because, during today’s conversation, I decided to give Ants a hug every time it got a bit too confusing for me and his big/small arms around me were much more powerful than any words.

I will just have to tell Ming to go easy on his habit of hugging Anthony rather ferociously because it scares the hell out of Ants!

blogging Family Friendship Grief Happiness LOVE STORY Parkinson's disease

44 Comments »
Mar 14

Dementia and bewilderment

by jmgoyder

Yesterday afternoon Ming and I visited Anthony at the nursing home in the late afternoon. I had blue cheese, crackers, olives, pate, pistachio nuts and ripe plums. We had a bit of a feast together and everything seemed okayish except that Ants was quite confused (which is normal after 4pm).

Then, when we went to leave, I kissed and hugged Ants and told him I loved him but his face was stony. Ming lingered a little longer with Ants and told me later that Anthony had said, “I don’t know why I love her any more.”

Of course I was very hurt to be told this but I explained to Ming that Anthony has these extremely lucid moments in the late afternoon (in amongst the confusion of not quite knowing where he is, temporally and geographically) where he feels/KNOWS he has been abandoned.

“Who will help me get to bed?” Anthony had asked me earlier.

“Where am I?”

“Will you tell the somebodies that I am here?”

“But where are you living?”

I am much more patient with Anthony’s confusion than Ming is – of course – and Ming finds it difficult to match this very sick, old man with the guy I fell in love with all of those years ago. Telling him stories about the way his dad used to be helps a little, but not much, not any more. Stories about Anthony’s robust energy, laughter and farming prowess fall short for Ming because he has no memory of the Anthony-before-illness. None.

Sometimes I wish I could give Ming my own memories of Anthony but I can’t.

And yet, when I see Ming talking to anyone and everyone, and being the life of the party, and taking over various responsibilities on this farm, I see Anthony all over again – the way he was – and his Ming clone buoys me up!

Anthony’s bewilderment is mine too and it is very hard to realize now that he thinks I have abandoned him. “I don’t know why I love her any more.”

blogging Family Friendship Grief Happiness LOVE STORY Parkinson's disease

61 Comments »
Mar 13

The Land of Blah

by jmgoyder

For several days now I have been in and out of the Land of Blah – you know, that place where, even when you stub your toe badly, you can’t be bothered saying ‘ouch’. It’s a funny sort of place, this Land of Blah, but not in a way that makes anyone smile; smiling is kind of frowned on here because it depletes energy and you need energy to get out of the Land of Blah.

I never choose to visit the Land of Blah but sometimes I accidentally wake up there (nightmares can do this), or else I am sitting with Anthony in his room in the nursing home and I am transported into the surreality of his confusion so much so that his blank expression becomes mine.

Sometimes I meet people I know in the Land of Blah and it shocks me. ‘What are you doing here?’ I feel like asking them but of course I don’t because it is a place of such silent mystery and private misery – a paradoxical place of in-between.

I don’t like it in the Land of Blah so I usually manage to clamber out and up into my normal life. And this is what I see: a beautiful peacock family.

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Robyn's photo

And the Land of Blah once again recedes into its own grey nothingness.

Animal Family Friendship Grief Happiness LOVE STORY Parkinson's disease Wings

68 Comments »
Mar 12

Sitting ducks

by jmgoyder

I have a new respect for birders and people who take photographs of wild birds. This morning I went outside with my camera specifically to take photos of wild (as opposed to tame) birds.

There was an abundance of course, all flying to and fro, landing in the trees, frolicking on the lawn, singing raucously, and playing hide and seek (from me!)

So I had to content myself with my happy-to-pose-for-you sitting ducklings.

Here is one of Michael Jackson who has developed some stylish markings on his head:

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And here are Misha and Freckle:

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I will keep trying with the wild birds ….

Tomorrow.

Animal Happiness Wings

14 Comments »
Mar 11

The wild birds!

by jmgoyder

We have a lot of crows, parrots, doves, magpies, willy wagtails, wrens, and other wild birds, who hang around a lot more then they used to here. This is obviously due to the overabundance of wheat (which is what I give all of the peafowl, guinnea fowl, and the gang).

This afternoon I decided to sit down and watch quietly as the wild birds fluttered and tiptoed into the tame birds’ little sanctuary. Tomorrow I plan to take better photos but here are a couple of Gutsy9 sharing a bowl of wheat with two crested pigeons.

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(I actually thought these guys were doves until I googled their description. I feel really knowledgeable now.)

Animal Happiness Wings

38 Comments »
Mar 10

The peachicks have chosen a new bedtime tree

by jmgoyder

Queenie’s chicks have become incredibly assertive. They take the food out of her mouth, fly at her aggressively if she is in the wheat bowl, and now they even choose the bedtime tree. Last night they decided to move to another tree while poor Queenie waited in the original bedtime tree. These two peachicks are absolute brats!

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But Queenie doesn’t mind.

Animal Family Friendship Happiness LOVE STORY Wings

23 Comments »
Mar 7

My name is “MING!”

by jmgoyder

If we had had more than one child we probably would have become more accomplished at the name thing. Alas, Ming (as our only child) inherited a bunch of names that make him sound/seem like a bit of a superior-being-weirdo – poor kid!

His first name is Menzies (pronounced Mingus with a soft ‘g’ and soon shortened to ‘Ming’). This name was chosen by Anthony, whose uncle on his mother’s side, had a Scottish name in the midst of which was ‘Menzies’.

His second name is Brinsley, named after my father, and his father, and his father. Many of the children, my brother, Brin, included, and grandchildren, have ‘Brinsley’ inserted somewhere inside their names. My father, Brinsley, died suddenly, when my brothers and I were still teenagers.

Ming’s third name is Barr, named after Anthony’s father, so his whole name is Menzies Brinsley Barr Goyder. It sounds rather impressive doesn’t it (and pretentious!)

It is very hard to get the pronunciation of ‘Ming’ from ‘Menzies’ however Ming has no patience with anyone who calls him MENZIES!

We should have just called him ‘Schnooks’ or something simpler – argh!

Family Friendship Happiness LOVE STORY

54 Comments »
Mar 6

A conversation between a 20-year-old son and his 50ish mother about washing the dishes

by jmgoyder

Me: We need to talk about the dishes.
Ming: I don’t care about the dishes.
Me: I want them washed; after all, they are mostly your dishes.
Ming: Ask me then!
Me: Why should I have to ask you when it is quite obvious that there are dishes on the sink that need washing?
Ming: It isn’t a priority for me; I want to clean the windows.
Me: I don’t care about the windows at the moment – I care about the dishes.
Ming: Well, I asked you if you wanted me to do the dishes this morning and you said it was okay not to.
Me: That’s only because I wanted you to do it anyway.
Ming: So I am supposed to read your mind?
Me: No, you are supposed to have a bit of initiative. If something needs to be done, then do it!
Ming: Well, write me a list, Mum.
Me: But why can’t you just simply see what needs doing, and do it?
Ming: Because I can’t.
Me: Well we will just have to agree to disagree won’t we!
Ming: I don’t know, Mum – you are so difficult sometimes!
Me: Sigh!

The above was a rather rowdy exchange today about a few dishes, which escalated into a bit of a war of utter miscommunication, diatribe, then, finally reconciliation (with a caveat to not mention the dishes again!)

In the meantime, my prodigal (anti-dishes son) cleaned all of the outside windows, which is a massive job, and we sat down at the kitchen table to make lists of chores. This little chore-meeting didn’t go particularly well because we were arrowing our foreheads against each other quite boppily until Ming suggested a hug (a few hours later!)

And then he said, “Mum, I am on your side, I am your best friend, I am sorry we don’t understand each other and, at the moment, I hate your guts but I still love you.”

Perhaps it is a male/female thing – initiative? I don’t know but one thing for sure is that, now that my hands are nearly better from this stupid pompholyx I will not be mentioning dishes again. After all, our Ming is doing everything else in his power to keep things on an even keel, including me.

So I salute my brat!

Family Friendship Happiness

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