Memoir – Page 8 – Janis Dehler

A True Sister Relationship

Yesterday was a day for my sister, Mary Beth. Acting as her guardian, I attended her annual review. I have another biological sister, Diane, who I travel with, shop with, laugh with, and reminisce, and support each other in many ways. I have soul sisters who enjoy what I enjoy, see and experience life similar to me, sharing each others life journey as chosen family. These sister/female relationships are important to me, helping me to see and understand myself, challenging me to grow, offering the welcome place that needs no reintroduction when there has been absence.

My relationship with Mary Beth is different in that she does not have verbal language or adequate sign language to engage in conversation. In her 55 years of life she has remained at mental age 3 – 4 years old. She was born with an extra chromosome which gave her the label and diagnoses, Down Syndrome. In small town North Dakota in 1962, there were no support services for her or our mother and our family. Mary missed out on the early stimulation that is now begun immediately after birth. Our mother, father and us 4 children missed out on education, emotional and psychological support, peers and mentors who understood the challenges ahead. The family felt and experienced the many emotions and changes this birth brought without the guidance, supportive services and compassion that was needed and our parents navigated the waters alone through some thoughtless hurtful comments made by people who did not know what else to offer.

Throughout all of this, Mary has made herself known through her wants and needs and her personality shines. Sweet is a common word used to describe Mary. A sweetness of being that is at her essence. She is very independent minded, focused, determined, creative, and unique in her style. For years Mary loved to buy jewelry and would daily wear almost every piece. Mary loves to work and stay busy. She will be the one at her day program who with a sensibility of hospitality, or control, will take everyone’s coats and hang them up, take everyone’s lunches and put them where they belong. Mary loves to exercise, especially dance. She loves going out, shopping, eating, and riding in the car. Mary is an artist at heart. She seeks out art materials, has had caregivers who help direct her with painting and creating. Drawing and coloring are soothing to her and hold a special time for her each day. When she was small she used to sit on the floor in the bathroom while I was dressing, doing hair and make up. Mary is a “girly girl” loving to have her hair, nails, facial, any primping will do. Mary has had a long time boyfriend named Bob. He is very attentive to her. At socials he will come get her to dance, until Mary wanders away distracted by balloons or pop, then Bob will find her a bit later for more dancing. Every year they attend prom together.

Mary has a new challenge that has been growing over the years and is the added layer of Alzheimers. Sometimes in the day, her sweetness is hard to find. She is not sleeping well. She now is eating all pureed food as she cannot tolerate texture. When frustrated she will lash out physically or drop to the ground. An hour later, she will be back to Mary as we know her. She has forgotten to wear her jewelry. She lives in a group home and I am eternally grateful for the love, care, understanding and determination of her caregivers to keep her quality of life to what she knows it to be and work with her to soothe and comfort.

This is a hard piece to write as there are so many feelings surrounding this relationship. I can easily name some of them, grief, guilt, joy, love, compassion, ambivalence, affection, admiration, irritation and at times I have felt disgust at some of the behaviors. And, did I say guilt? It is a relationship where enough never seems enough. There is always more to be met. These feelings rise and fall. There is no justification of the feelings, no rhyme or reason, they are just present when they are present. My own acceptance of the feelings makes all the difference. I don’t own any one feeling in this relationship. They are all present and all matter and do not define me or Mary or the relationship. They simply rise and fall.

When I feel guilt especially, I do a reality check and breathe it through. I can no longer enjoy bringing Mary Beth home for over nights as it is too far out of her daily routine. It is too challenging for her and for me. I miss the Mary who was not driven by her compulsions, who was not affected by all the medications. And yet, I know that the change we live through is the nature of life. Everything is change. We change and strive for adaptation. Our bodies and minds age and we seek ways of comfort and normalcy. I do not long for the sweet days when my children were little; I delight in their growth into their mature life. I realize I can let go of the longing for the Mary of the past and celebrate the life she is striving to live. I continue to see the sweetness, continue to hold with compassion this sister relationship that has been part of my life since I was 12 and which continues to grow in its own complexity as every sister and sister/friend relationship does.

Mary offers me the same mirror of relationship as does my sister, Diane, and my adopted sisters as well. We are all here to help each other in our journey of life navigating the waters as spirits in a human body. That is what I offer to Mary Beth and that is what Mary Beth offers to me in return, as we each challenge each other to show up in what ever way we are able, to a true sister relationship.

Posing

The Face of Resilience

The senior apartments I visited yesterday morning were full of little goblins ages 2, 3, 4, wandering from one elder to the next who sat in the entry and had bowls of candy pieces they would drop into each bucket. Then up the children went to the apartments and walked the halls popping in as cats, princesses, spiderman, to bring laughter, hoots, and smiles. I arrived early and was able to sit and take it all in. When the time was right, I went up the elevator and found the woman I was visiting, having recently lost her husband of 60 years, in her apartment looking deeply sad, feeling lost in her loss.

As we talked and she shared with me the story of her life with her husband a smile arose on her lips as she was there in her memory of him when they were young. Her face lit with contented love and then she returned to the feeling of sadness and weariness. So many emotions riding the waves of grief that it can be exhausting yet that is the sign of hope and resilience, we are not sunk in one emotion. We are complex beings and as the building was full of laughter and fun while behind a closed door a woman sat in sadness we also have access to an array of emotion at any time throughout our day.

Sadness, loss, feeling out of step, are feelings that will need to be navigated as she makes this journey and yet there will be a child, an animal, a memory that will call for attention, surprise her in a moment and her heart will respond, a smile may form, a memory of her love will show, a feeling of herself being a child again might delight. These moments are what bring us further and further to the surface so we might catch a breath before we again descend. Each day, month, year, we stay on the surface a bit longer as we attend to each feeling as it arises.

Our natural instinct is to flee from the pain. That is how we are wired. When the pain is so great, we might seek to numb ourselves, deny the pain, anything to avoid. If we can act contrary to our instinct and allow the feelings to move through us, allow the memories to arise, allow for help in the process when it is too great to be left alone, we find that out of the muck, the mud, the rocky soil of our soul the flower of our life rises. There is no time line on how this all moves. It is unique to each individual, to each loss, to each story. The loss is part of our life journey. No more no less. It is what we look back to at the end of our days as we start to name what is of value, what we have accomplished, what we have brought to the world, what we grieve and what we celebrate.

Some choose to make the journey, others do not. Some talk it through others create or write or build. There is no way. There is no judgment. There is no promise. There is only hope for the journey and the renewal of life as we heal. As we daily attend to all the losses that come our way and increase our emotional vocabulary and intelligence we build resilience for the tougher times, the losses that seek for transformation of a soul. Those losses that turn life on its head.

A flower on the Camino rising in the drought and rocky soil

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Waking Each Other to Now

My quote for the day on Friday, our first snow storm, was from Wyat, the cashier at our local food coop, City Center Market. Wyat is 20 something with wavy blonde hair down to his shoulders. He has a very direct look when speaking to you and enjoys engaging in conversation. Friday his question in an exuberant tone of voice was, “So how do you like this snow?” Having canceled my massage appointment so I wouldn’t have to drive 2 1/2 hours in the stuff, my response was lukewarm at best and my head was still in a meeting I had just left. Wyat’s reply while waving his arm toward the window was, “Just look at that ambient atmosphere!” and he went on to express how he loved days like this. I looked. I let go of all the other stuff around the fact of the snow and looked at the day. It was beautiful. I smiled. We laughed together and chatted.

When I was in Spain walking the Camino we marveled at the attitudes of all who served us, their seeming love of their job and their willingness to share that with us. It was rare at best to encounter anyone quick, rude, brusk, or impatient. We talked about how it is not like this back home with tired harried wait people, cashiers, with our fast food mentality. There is truth to this perception but there is something more.

Since my return I have been observant and what I am seeing is people like Wyat. What I am learning and being reminded of is the relationship that happens in the encounter between server and customer, relationship here being key as we expect servers to be kind and available for our needs but the question then is, what do I bring to this encounter? When I approach the register or the wait person at a restaurant with my mind somewhere else or in my own version of fast food mentality, I am not available. When I don’t take a moment to smile, to ask how they are today, I expect more than I am willing to give back. Wyat likes to test himself and see if he remembers my member number. All the cashiers at the coop wear their names on their shirts. I don’t even know all of their names because I haven’t looked.

Wyat reached out and woke me up to my day but also to what it is to encounter another and be in the present moment with that individual. I left smiling wanting to write about this young man and the gift he gave me. This is a man who enjoys himself, who takes the risk to challenge others to enjoy themselves as well. Wyat challenged me to see beyond my own perception and judgment. I only hope I am able to pay it forward and offer another this gift as well.

Ambient Atmosphere

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What Brings you comfort?

It has been a busy week. My daughter’s kitchen was flooded, my mother in law fell, my sister Mary with Down Syndrome and Alzheimers is having moments of acting out, my uncle was placed in memory care and we will visit tomorrow. Client X is raw with grief and planning a trip to “just get out of here.” Client Y feels that she is loosing her faith and belief in God. Client Z needed placing in a mental health unit for protection in his grief. Some days, some weeks are more painful than others.

It is a good day to seek comfort. People, even clients, will ask, “How can you do this day after day?” “How do you take care of yourself?” In my department we ask each other the same question. It is the same question I ask my clients. Tonight I turned to spaghetti, Modern Family, a bath and music. Going for a walk is always good. Some days it is a bigger hunk of chocolate than the usual small square.

I always ask my clients early on in our sessions, “What gives you comfort?’ “What do you seek for support when you are hurting?” Many times I receive a blank stare. Who would know the answer to that question in such rawness? That is a fair response. Who would know when all we want is the one we love? But I let the question sink in. Maybe in a week or a month the body, the mind, or the spirit might offer up the answer. I need to start reading novels to quiet my mind. I need to have some quiet reflection time every morning. I turn on the tv to get to sleep. I like to turn on music really loud and cry. I buy myself flowers as he would have done. I might hear, I have been drinking every day. I just want to go to a bar and meet someone. I turn on the tv and sleep with it on all night. I don’t turn out the lights. It is the only thing that gets me through.

There are as many unique answers to this question as there are people and losses. Maybe comfort is that which makes us feel at home with ourselves. Or maybe it is simply something to help ground us. Or maybe to help us be somewhere away from the pain or to be in a state of numbing ourselves from the pain. In our pain and loss we ache for the familiar to take a break from the new world that is opening before us. To be someplace where we can feel at home and be ourselves. Maya Angelou in All Gods Children Need Traveling Shoes states that “The ache for home lives in all of us. The safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned.” Away from any judgement and attempts at smoothing things over, both from others and ourselves. The spiral is a good symbol of this journey of comfort as we empty ourselves on the journey in, find our center, sit in peace, allow ourselves to be filled and then bring that which we find back out into the world, into our own soul.

So, it is a good day to remind myself that every home in my community has a story of loss. No one is immune. We can’t compare. Whose pain is worse, more? We each are called to live out our story as it appears. It is a good day to remember that simply looking someone in the eyes and smiling can change the world of that individual for a bit of time. Someone smiling at me gives me a lift into peace and joy. It is how we care for each other, even the strangers that we might be, not knowing what effect we make in the world but always believing we are all of consequence. We all matter. We all make a difference.

At David’s on the way to Astorga on the Camino Frances

Seeing is Not Believing

This weekend was cleanup weekend as we head into winter and are feeling close on its heals. Window washing is part of the process. I wash in and Leo washes out. My job is done. It won’t last long but it is fun to see clear glass letting the light in stronger and giving more of a feel of inside is out and outside is in. There will soon be the finger smudges, markings from birds that hit the window, and general grime. The light now shines clearer on cobwebs, the dead flowers in the crystal vase that two weeks ago declared “Welcome Home” and now beg for the compost pile, the juice from a tomato that died before we could eat it. It is the end of a season. After the bright light of summer everything is looking tired. I declared to myself that I could now see out much clearer now that the windows are washed. The reality is that Leo has not washed the outside yet so it is possible that I just believe I can see better.

Studies have been done that show we all see things differently, even color. The green you see is not the green that I see. We can all see an event and walk away with a different version of what happened. You may focus on something I did not even see. In Hospice we use the team approach. There might be one person on the team who sees entirely different than anyone else. And someone then might say, “Oh, yes, now I see.” or “No, no I don’t see it that way at all.” It does not matter. All views matter and help to build a whole and we all discuss what is the best approach from all the input.

In the beginning of the year I had a cataract removed. The first day of sight is amazingly clear. Shocking in a way to see so clearly and then it begins to wane over a bit of time settling into a more ho hum vision. Shock will do that as well. After I had been in the hospital with a dying baby and was driven home after a week of interior life, I was stunned at the green beauty before me. How did this happen? It was as if everything had been painted in bright bold colors. I had been deprived of this long enough in a haze of grief that color lost its normalcy.

I made my 8 year old grandson a book for his birthday through Shutterfly and it is on its way. I took a photo of the cover and pasted it in his card so he could see his gift. My daughter saw what I and Leo could not see, I had given Remy his brother’s middle name. Not just once but twice in the book. I read and reread to proofread, as did Leo. We could not see what was before us and know to be incorrect.

No matter how much we polish the lens that we see through we still have bias, belief and life experience that we have to move through to really see. We begin to see with a ho hum vision that reads from habit, and conviction. There is a space, a gap, between what we see and what we tell ourselves we see. Annie Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinkers Creek, talks about going into the gaps. Those spaces between things, in this case between what we see and don’t see. Go into the gaps with courage, that narrow space before bias, conviction, and belief. We might see a whole new universe in raging color that does not match what we thought was alway true. We might be brave and allow ourselves to not believe what we are seeing and challenge ourselves to look again. Looking again in the gaps.

Rum River , todays walk.

Walking in a Sea of Holy

Peter Mayer “Holy Now” (with lyrics and captions) on youtube

Enjoy Peter Mayer, Minnesota songwriter and musician. It is worth the journey to Youtube for the music and visuals. Words below.

This old tune kept rising within me as we walked the Camino and marveled at the beauty, the gifts of strangers just when something was needed, the sacredness of the path and the journey, and the gathering around meals. When I was young, sacrament was something that happened in a church. Sacrament is defined as “a religious ceremony or act of the Christian Church that is regarded as an outward and visible sign of inward and spiritual divine grace.” (Wikipedia not Baltimore Catechism.)

As I raised my children and united with friends and family for meals and celebrations, I realized that sacrament happens throughout life. With joy, intention, and awareness grace becomes visible in our gatherings whether with people or animals in nature or home. It is that shift in consciousness that Peter celebrates in his song. We are coming to a greater understanding that the world is one, that all beings great and small, all of nature, are of one energy source, one love. We have not reached a tipping point. For most of us during our busy days it is a concept at best and hard to hold in awareness when we are in pain, conflict, grief. When wars are fought and cruelty abounds.

As in anything new, we need only believe that we know this, feel desire to know this, allow ourselves to see, so that one day it moves from a mental concept to a place in our hearts that is of deep knowing and presence with each moment that arises.

Blessings on your day.

Holy Now

by Peter Mayer

When I was a boy each week
On Sunday we would go to church
Pay attention to the Priest
and he would read the Holy word
and consecrate the Holy bread
and everyone would kneel and bow
Today the only difference is
Everything is Holy now
Everything,Everything,Everything is Holy now

When I was in sunday school
We would learn about the time
Moses split the sea in two
and Jesus made the water wine
I remember feeling sad
Miracles don’t happen still
but now I can’t keep track
cause Everythings a Miracle
Everything,Everything,Everythings a Miracle

Wine from water is not so small
but an even better magic trick
is that anything is here at all
Sooo, The challenging thing becomes
Not to look for Miracles
but finding where there isn’t one

When Holy water was rare at best
It barely wet my fingertips
but now I have to hold my breath
like I’m swimming in a sea of it
It used to be a world half there
Heavens second rate hand me down
but I walk it with a reverent air
cause Everything is Holy now
Read a questioning child’s face
and say it’s not a testament, that’d be hard to say
see another new morning come and say it’s not a Sacrament
I tell you that it can’t be done

This morning outside I stood, Saw a little red wing bird
Shining like a burning bush
and singing like a scripture verse
it made me want to bow my head
I remember when church let out
How things have changed since then
Everything is Holy Now

It used to be a world half there
Heavens second rate hand me down
but I walk it with a Reverent air
cause Everything is Holy Now

Mother Superior

Continuing the Journey

Being home from the Camino for two weeks, I miss blogging and am hearing from others that they miss my blogs as well. Putting them both together, I have decided to write as I continue to walk, after being ill with a cold for 10 days, recovering from the flight, the mold and mildew in the very old buildings we slept in, and taking time for reflection on the journey. Feel free to “unfollow” as you wish or continue on the journey with me as you are always welcome.

Yesterday I walked a 5.5 mile loop on country road toward Isanti and then looping over to the walk/bike trail through aspen, birch, and white pine to the bog walk and back home. Walking without a pack on my back is a pleasure as well as the dry air which was noticeably different from the humidity I left in early September that can be like walking through soup. Yesterday was a refreshing walk in sun and shade with a brisk breeze that required wearing my buff over my neck and ears as I started out. Two items from the camino that have become my walking friends, buff and fanny pack.

As my pace slowed to a comfortable rhythm allowing my mind to calm, I began to reflect on the comments regarding the Camino, “the Camino provides” and “the Camino carries you along.” Both are true statements that we felt and witnessed in many ways from Mary praying and asking for flip flops for her wounded feet and there they are on the trail the next morning, Di needing a bed on a lower bunk and it is given by 26 yr old Corrine who is wounded and recovering but offered her space to Di. Acts of mercy and charity that are common on the Way. The energy of millions who have walked this path over centuries has imbued this journey with an energy that is palpable and comforting. I was able to tap into this stream during my walk on the Camino feeling the peace of calm mind and heart as we walked and journeyed on in our modified way.

The question/thought arose then as I walked yesterday that as millions of people and animals walk this earth daily, is this energy also available here now as I am walking today and everyday? Do we feel it more acutely on the Way as it is talked about and honored and expected there and we have removed ourselves from the ordinary to do so? If I calm my mind and open to all that is around me, the trees, birds, dirt under my feet, the water, grasses, and those who pass me on the path, those who walked before me, the Santee or Eastern Dakota who walked and lived this area of earth, the Europeans who settled and worked the land, and those who walk with me in spirit, can this energy be with me wherever I walk?

There is much to tap into wherever we are on this earth if we choose to do so, if we bring our attention to do so, if we allow our mind and heart to open to the possibility, the isness of the moment and space. When we call on the ancestors, the spiritual masters, Jesus, Amma, Buddha, our teachers, our guides, we never walk alone. When we pray, when we ask for what we need, when we stay open to watching for the signs of response that are not always as we expect, our needs are met.

There is something very special about the Camino. We walk out of ordinary time to take time to be on a journey. It is truly a journey to be had if one feels called to do so. I do believe, however, that the journey out of the Camino calls each of us to carry this time out of ordinary time with us into our home space. If we do not, it would be like believing that that which we name God, resides only in a church because the church has been built for worship. The Camino holds what I can access anywhere my heart resides and is open to see and hear. Walking into a space is an interaction between the space and what I bring into the space. I can walk on a space of earth oblivious to it’s creatures, it’s energy source, and it’s pulse or I can walk bringing my attention, my presence, my intention and experience the world in a wholly different way, one that is full of possibility, grace, and blessing. It is that which I experienced on the Camino and that which lifted me yesterday as I walked my 5.5 miles surrounded by beauty, greetings from strangers, a dog who wanted to be my companion, my mantra, spirit guides and grace.

The day ended with wishing my 8 year old grandson “Happy Birthday” and being surrounded by the love of family, our first gathering since I returned. That which I have returned to, that which never left me while on the journey, and that which is abiding love on earth.