Saturday, August 13, 2005

illness and new awareness

His illness is teaching me how to care for myself and to be concerned about my own needs as well as other people's; this, in quite astonishingly new ways. Most of all, that I have the right to acknowledge the work I do -- at home and outside the home -- in my teaching and writing and other activities. Incredible how little we/I know... in this my sixth decade.

The seond day of Adult Care went splendidly. When I picked him up, got him in the car and asked, how'd it go? , he said: what a dramatic day... Nice people ... are getting ... to know each other. He is physically and emotionally safe: We couldn't ask for anything more.

And oh, did I mention, we have a new grandchild, Little Boy Schweid, 8 lbs. 10 ounces, 21 " long. Abe's first from his own children. I printed the pictures out, hung them on the wall and he sits smiling at them. When one life wanes, another comes along to bring us new pleasure - which we can certainly use at this time - and new hope. He even remembered the name of his first wife today. And mine too - I think. Better go check! Do you believe I can still get jealous! Oh, the human condition: our smallnesses and foibles, at least mine...

3 comments:

Pat/Puah said...

Esther, am up here - Lopez - with my old laptop and left all my 2005 email addresses at home, stupidly, in the total chaos of leaving town with a husband and a grandchild - who knew it would leave my brain in small albeit lively pieces all over the house, car, cabin, etc. Please send me your email asap - Today Jennifer's here too so have some time to check out online things and am so surprised to see the changes in your life in only the short time I've been gone. Love. Pat/Puah

margaret roncone said...

yes...as one life wanes...so another begins...reminds me of my rosebush..the older blooms fold inward...towards their center..how beautifully quiet they become..so much life still there but placed where we no longer can see...the inner workings...we put our ear to..and still hear the soft pulse of one's life.

Pat H said...

Esther's
Alzheimer
poem
starts
to break
up
like cells
under
a micro
scope
tiny
flecks
pieces
cogs
sticking

anxious
ticks
clicks
until
they
curve
to
make
a
circle
of
words
to
hold
all
of
us

and
I
find
hers
a
comfort
of
love