I'm getting old.

I cut myself on a broken vase unpacking W.'s stuff from her return from Rehab. Two thoughts ran through my head as I looked at the blood. "Boy, it looks like my blood is iron rich today" and "Gee, that's a great opportunity to check my blood sugar - too bad I don't have my monitor with me".

Next I had the problem of needing a band aid. I know where they are in her house because we surreptiously took the opportunity to do a little digging to get rid of stuff that should never have made the move with her. I need a band aid but will she remember where they are (stuffed in the top drawer of her dresser with glasses that don't belong to her, little folding scissors that couldn't cut anything, a weird tube like thing with numbers from her husband's old work, bits of paper, manuals, letters and important stuff, empty containers, and stuff). If I go get the band aid then she will know that I know. Luckily she remembered where they were.

Which reminds me of the nightgowns. Up on the top shelf there were these two white nightgowns with Care Bears on them. They were stained and worn out. Taking the opportunity to at least get rid of some of her excess of clothes I chucked them. I had no idea that they are actually the nightgowns she uses all the time. How could I have guessed? Luckily there was one that escaped my pillaging. W. is annoyed and can't understand why I threw out perfectly good clothing. I pointed out that if someone came to the Salvation Army with that nightgown that they would throw it out and give something better out of their stockpile; surely she should have clothing at least as good as that.

To prove my point I pulled out a white t-shirt which is stained all down the front. With dozens of shirts why keep this? She insists that the washing machine at the building is very bad and everyone knows it. This is a typical response which I can't win since the logic just isn't there - I really don't care why its so stained, I really want to know why it can't be thrown out.

C. and I were laughing on the way home because he brought up that she is embarassed to wear her Lifecall button around her neck but has no problem with the stains!

Anyhow, I do feel bad that she feels her rights are violated but its a difficult thing - she has the money to have nicer things but she won't throw anything out and I'm not sure she sees well enough to know how bad some of the stuff is. If she was in a nursing home dressed like that I would be upset that no one could find something better. I'm off to buy nightgowns at some point during my visit today!

Fast Food Communion

If there is one thing I love about the RC denomination its the chance to dress up in girly girl clothes for first communion. Especially the veils. Other than your wedding day there is no other chance to wear a veil (except for those nifty widow veils over your eyes but that's not quite an event where I would probably remember to buy one).

I was really impressed with as W. had been getting communion every morning while in Rehab. It seemed like such an effort to give communion everyday to so many people.





We were sitting in the cafe in the lobby when the priest was passing by and saw W. He started with the pleasantries which appeared to be that the was just quickly idling to say "goodbye" when in one full movement he went from "So you are going home" to crossing himself ".... Body of Christ" the communion wafer comes out of nowhere and before I even realise what is happening he is gone after wishing her a well.





Huh? For a denomination that believes in the wafer actually changing to the body of Christ it seems a little like communion at McDonalds. I had been expecting a moment of them seated together with a word of prayer at least. Its also funny to me that because we are not patients we are not offered communion. Separating the sheep from the goats I suppose. C. said maybe we didn't look Roman Catholic enough. I think the stunned look on my face gave me away - its funny because though C. grew up Roman Catholic (and attended a boys RC school) I often know more about the tradition then he does. Based on how much he seemed to learn about his own religion in a RC school I suggest that all parents teach their children sex ed. Don't assume that they remember anything that the teacher presented!

World Day of Prayer

I was supposed to do a sermonette at the World Day of Prayer. I had one written but looking at the people who came and the content of my topic I had to change it quickly. There wasn't anyone from my generation there - maybe a few. They were mostly from the generation that has always gone to church and are now retired and still volunteer. I had written it with a more wider age range in mind to include those who work with children and live outside of the church community, those that may not be very well connected with their neighbours due to their busy lives.

I panicked as we went through service thinking about how I could tweak my words to make them more relevant - less instructional and more reflecting on how church and community has changed. Then I was saved.

The organizer insisted on introducing me so I wrote an very short introduction for her. Rather than call it "seminary" she called it "cemetery" (if you can never remember if its "e
s" or "a's" in "cemetery" just remember we all go "eee" as we walk past). I didn't notice as I was still ruminating on whether I could wing a whole new talk - the program listed it as a sermon or reflection so I had a bit of room to move. Well I heard people say "cemetery"? But it got worse - she mentioned that since I'm a student they are my guinea pigs. She added "happy little guinea pigs" I guess to make it sound not so bad. I was off the hook! With that lead up, who expected anything?

So I was able to do a "reflection" which sadly meant that in the confusion I missed one of the theological points I wanted to address but what can you do.

The other moment was when I went to use the bible at the lectern. I had carefully asked which version they use. Different Bible versions have different translations so if I use a word from the reading in my sermon to expound on an idea but their translation is different it makes no sense. Well they use the New English Bible which is not really considered the best. Actually, I couldn't find it anywhere on the Net and I ended up having to go to Tyndale to get the actual reading (then found out that my first bible I ever got was NEB and sitting on my bookshelf!).

Anyhow, when I arrive, I again check that the Bible is in place and ready to go. Well, no. The Bible that is in place an ready to go is not NEB and translates slightly differently. But the Bible's in the pews are NEB and some of the people really like to follow along. Very confusing and distracting to say the least. I will now never come with my sermon ready without the translation typed at the top so I have it regardless of what Bible they have at the front. I like to read from the Bible at the lectern because visually it is understood that these are not my words but the words of the Church. Its a small thing but I'm a visual person.

Lessons learned! In the end people seemed to appreciate it. One of the youngest said it gave him a lot to think about which had been my original intent. It wasn't my best but my best for the circumstances and I was pleased that people referred to it as a "talk" and "reflection" so they took it for what it was!

Senior's Moments

I have a respect for the older crowd. I've volunteered with seniors and took a health care aid course which required working hours in a nursing home. I couldn't hack the nursing home scene, I'm not fast enough in feeding people and had a hard time lifting them on and off of the bed and toilet (and this was over 20 years ago and a 100 pounds ago)! But I couldn't think of a better title for capturing the transitional times for my family as we move an older member back into the home with lots of safety iniatives and changes to actitivites of daily living. The "senior's moments" aren't hers nearly so much as mine. People nod their heads and go "oh yeah, my grandmother does that too".

Boxes. If it comes in a box, then the box must be kept. That's great if you have a storage room or a basement, otherwise its a huge waste of space. And trust me, when we move her stuff we are never going to try to put that tv back into that tv box. That's okay though because the huge box from one her items was able to hold everyplastic bag that has ever come into the apartment. Even bags that things came in. I don't know when the last time was that she visited "La Vie en Rose" but she has their bag.

Plastic containers. Any plastic container that has ever come into the house must remain. You never know when you need one. Usually we are good about and we recycled a lot of stuff but I gave up trying to figure out which ones could and could not. And with a garbage shute just down the hall.

Huge tubs. The huge tubs that cream cheese comes in at the local bagel shop. I think we took about ten of them downstairs (don't fit in the shute!). Apparently they were on hold for people who might want them. If I had dogs the size of ponies I might keep their dog food in their or use it to scoop the yard but other than that I have no idea what they could be used for. Apparently no one else knew what they would be used for either.

She also has an old rusty ironing board. On her balcony. I have a feeling that it might be there for plants but I just don't know. Better check before I hump it down to the garbage!

The Missing Shoes

Have you ever heard of the phenomenon of the missing shoe? When you are driving around town or on the highway you may see a shoe lying in the road. But there is only one shoe, the mate is nowhere to be found. Some cultural pundits have suggested many reasons for this but the mystery remains.

We have the same mystery in W's apartment. While she is in Rehab we are getting ready for her return. I noticed that the old pair of boots do not seem to be anywhere. These boots piss me off because we went to a lot of effort to get W a nice pair of safe, well fitting boots that she approved of. Now she isn't wearing them because "they are too heavy" (we made sure they were light!) so she is wearing these cast offs from who knows where. She has the habit of ensuring nothing ends up in the garbage and we continually catch her wearing sneakers too big for her feet. Very dangerous when using a walker!

Anyhow, not only can I not find the newer boots that she refuses to wear, I can't find her donated ones. Nor can I find the matching shoe to two of her pairs of sneakers. Now these sneakers were chosen by her sister who is an expert in shoes (having been a purchaser years ago) and they were very safe! Part of the mystery might be solved as W may have been admitted to hospital with only one shoe on. Another thing to add to our list before she gets discharged is to figure out if she has any shoes!

Mice with Wings

I have never had birds, never knew anyone with birds. I had a relative with a heavy Yorkshire accent that had a bird -my mom and dad visited her and my father could not figure out why this women kept talking about her "board".

Anyhow, my relative has two birds. I've never spent much time with them until recently. Yuck. I'm not sure what the attraction is. Apart from having to clean out their tray they molt feathers everywhere. I don't know if these ones are more nervous then most but when I made a loud sound moving something there was a flurry of activity and a pouf of feathers flying out the cage everywhere. We just vacuumed all these feathers yesterday!

One of them doesn't seem to do much - I think he's oxygen starved from the smoke in the apartment (I know I am) but the other one obviously has the memory of 2 seconds. He grabs his ladder and looks in the mirror and pecks at it then goes back to his perch. Then he grabs his ladder and looks in the mirror and pecks at it then goes back to his perch. Sometimes he pecks at this little bird head that springs around. Very OCD.

I also now know why people drape things over their cage to let them think its time to sleep. Once sundown hit they are chirping and freaking out. And they don't respond to "shut up". Hey, I didn't stand at the cage screaming shut up - only from the couch and in a speaking voice.

Anyhow, after this introduction to birds I think I'm quite content to remain with cats.