Wednesday, September 11, 2013

12 years later....


84th floor  west office  12 trapped



We all remember where we were when we heard (or saw) what was happening in NYC.  (well some of us remember:-(  Each year on the anniversary, there appears another gut wrenching story of survival, remembrance or heroism.  This year's stand out goes to the family of Randy Scott.  He worked on the 84th floor of Tower Two which is the floor that presumably took the direct hit of the second plane. His family believed for many years, a decade plus, that he must have and hopefully had perished instantly.  Not so............... several months ago Mrs. Scott was notified of this note and the DNA proof that it belonged to her husband, Randy.  It was found early that day, kept in a safe place and later identified to have been touched and ultimately written by Mr. Scott. The red blotch is Randy's blood. He did not die instantly and most likely suffered.  Mrs. Scott decided that their 3 daughters would be better equipped to handle the news after all had completed college and given a few extra months to continue to heal and mature.
This is just another of thousands of stories that will continue to remind us of the strength of enumerable people that day. The stories will never get old as will the thousands who died that day. I hope that along with the ancient Egyptians, Mesopotamia, the American and World Wars and the things that New York Legislators deem to be relevant to our educational curriculum, they will remember to include the importance of respect, honor, loyalty, patriotism, forgiveness, and peace.  I am fearful these are no longer innate traits but rather acquired ones. We will remember!

Monday, September 9, 2013

Milestone Birthday Week-end:-)

Friday evening we celebrated our great niece, Gabby's 13th birthday.  Her Mom served up a scrumptious meal followed by gifts, cake and yummy # 13 cookies.  Gabby has blossomed into a beautiful, outspoken (apple fell straight from two trees), intelligent, young woman.  Where did those 13 years go?



Saturday, we were off to help Miss Leah Leonard ( I think that's a perfect name for a movie star) celebrate her first birthday.  We were greeted by more delicious food, refreshing libation and great company! Lucky Leah got a new house for her birthday :-)  I think they will all love the country and enjoy each new day there.



Next, we were off to our old necking spot where great friends have built a spectacular home....Cheese Factory Road!  Eddie and Lora welcomed their friends and family for a celebration of 50 years for Eddie.  They are an amazing couple who have earned the friendship, admiration and love of friends and family. Another great party!



Of course, we needed yesterday to recuperate...OK I did!.. Lee was off to shoot in the morning and enjoy a golf tournament in the afternoon.  I watched football.............shocker! From noon until 10:30 I screamed at the TV, jumped up and down (literally), threw my own personal penalty marker (mostly at the refs), was disappointed in the Bills, flabbergasted at the Jets, happy about the 49ers and really pissed at the Giants.  Tonight I will be rooting for RGIII and his Redskins.  I figure he only needs 15 TD's to beat Resa Dee in Fantasy Football.  Hey, on any given........Monday!

Friday, September 6, 2013

Oh, I remember......................

http://www.nbcnews.com/health/alzheimers-extracts-high-price-caregivers-too-8C11070658


Oh I remember, seems like three pretty simple words.. NOT so!  Who would ever have thought that remembering could be such a vital part of life.  Simple, everyday forgetfulness becomes more and more scary after you've heard (or lived) the horror stories of dementia and Alzheimer's.  After reading Jim's, I can find no fault in his honesty!  More so, I laud him for having the balls to make such an admission.  We are all so very guilty of saying what we feel folks want to hear, to be politically correct and to be seen as the basic "good guy."  Jim Crabtree is the basic good guy!

My situation leaves me fortunate.  My Dad had the foresight and the means to have provided for my Mom throughout their life and after his death.  Finances have not been an issue, so far, in the care and comfort of my Mom but logistics have been.  The beginning decisions were made by necessity and the moves have to date been strategic.  It began with baby steps.. some hourly daycare, some brochures left precariously on a table, some visits to assisted living facilities nearby, some gentle coaxing and suggestions from her physician and finally a St. Patrick's Day dinner followed by the comment, "Where's the bar?"  We have a winner!  Once she had made the decision, all the prior planning and critical maneuvering went into action.  Step One...check!  The rest of the plan was easy compared to the initial move.  Fast forward 4 years and we've made the move to a nursing facility.  For all we can tell, (and we're 5 months into year 2) she is content and physically in great shape.  The fluff stops there.  Each visit greets us with a blanker (is that a word?) stare.  We wish we could know what, if anything, is behind those questioning eyes.  There's no recognition, that we know.  Her days are filled with shuffling up and down the hallways in her wheelchair...that resulting from lack of exercise and a brain that barely remembers how to tell her knees to bend.  The basic skill of using utensils is a thing of the past and only soft food is allowed after her bottom plate was misplaced...never to return.  Here you have a woman who never even hit the local grocery store without matching shoes (to her outfit, not each other :-) and earrings now wearing mismatched clothing, someone else's shoes and a bib. 
I have to make myself go there.  I'm not proud of that.  I visit weekly and stay around a half hour.  I most often take Jess.  She is remarkable.  I have no worries about my elder care days.  She will be with me.  I also feel no guilt in not having Mom live with us.  I could not do it!  I am not totally without guilt, however.  Many times the phone will ring and it displays "Groton Nursing Facility."  It's often at night when calls come. I take a deep breath and a sliver of me hopes the news will be that Mom drifted off to sleep or never woke up.  That's as close to my outside voice as I'll probably ever get.  Then happily, the news will be, your Mom slid out of her chair, but she's fine or even your Mom pulled the fire alarm.. AGAIN and the fire dept. has just left!  I smile, thank them and hope that Mom enjoyed the sirens and the visit from the fine firemen of Groton Volunteer Fire Dept.  One day the news will be different.  I may cry but I won't be sad because thankfully, I can remember!



When Jim Crabtree learned last May that his mother and wife had been shot by his father, who then committed suicide, he felt not horror, but relief.
Crabtree had been struggling to take care of his 62-year-old wife, Rita, who was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease six years earlier. His parents were able to watch after her each day while he was at work. But his mother, 80, was forced to use to a wheelchair with severe joint pain and arthritis and his 84-year-old dad had begun to develop dementia.
“My father shot my mother and then he shot my wife and then he shot himself,” Crabtree told NBC’s Maria Shriver. “It sounds like a horrible violent end, but in actuality it was an euthanasia that my father did. It was a great gift that my father was able to give me. He ended my Alzheimer’s and elder care issues at once.”
Like many Alzheimer’s caregivers, Crabtree felt stretched to the breaking point.
“It’s the kind of stretch you get living your life on a treadmill,” he said. “Just when you think you got things in order, something else comes up and you have to run a little bit farther and a little bit faster, but you never get ahead. You’re just scrambling around trying to figure out how you’re going to solve all these problems.”
Although rare, there are other murder-suicide cases involving caregivers and their charges. It’s a sign of how stressful the job is, said Linda Ercoli, director of geriatric psychology at the Semel Institute at the University of California, Los Angeles.
“It’s like having a second job that is 24-7 on top of whatever else you’re dealing with in life,” she told NBCNews.com.
Even his job as an emergency room nurse didn’t prepare 55-year-old Jim Crabtree for the overwhelming triple burden of caring for a wife with Alzheimer’s, a father descending into dementia and a mother with crippling arthritis.
Those burdens are so great they can shave years off the life of caregivers, experts say. In fact, one study showed that compared to others, caregiver spouses aged 66 to 96 had a 63 percent higher mortality rate, Ercoli said.
“Unlike many other types of things, Alzheimer’s comes with an uncontrollability that really extracts a price,” said Dr. Richard Schulz, a professor of psychiatry at the University of Pittsburgh Medical Center. “And there is a vigilance component from having to be on guard all the time. That in and of itself can be very stressful.”
Add to that the length of time caregivers are on the job – on average eight years, but sometimes as long as 20 – and you’ve got years of chronic stress, Ercoli said.
Making matters worse, the demands of caregiving often result in social isolation as caregivers disconnect from other family and friends because they feel they have no time to keep up these relationships, Schulz said.
Under that heavy burden a caregiver’s emotional state can bounce from helplessness to exhaustion to anger. And that anger can be directed toward the patient if the caregiver doesn’t understand the disease well enough to realize that some of the annoying behaviors are simply symptoms of illness.
The high levels of anger and frustration often felt by caregivers is one reason Ercoli suggests all guns be removed and sharp objects be locked up. Violence isn’t uncommon in homes where an Alzheimer’s patient is being cared for, the geriatric psychologist said. Studies have found that while about 5 percent of caregivers are sometimes violent with their charges, nearly 16 percent of patients are sometimes violent with their caregivers.
That’s not the only risk caregivers face. Along with a higher death rate, they also are at increased risk of immune system problems and cancer.
And then there’s the ever-mounting stress, which many caregivers don’t recognize since they’re so caught up in the day-to-day survival.
“You can go to the Alzheimer’s Association [website] and actually take a test to find out how many signs of caregiver stress you have,” Ercoli said. “It can be very eye opening.”
While many derive satisfaction caring for a loved one in the early stages of the disease, that satisfaction can dwindle as Alzheimer’s progresses, robbing patients of their personalities, Schulz said. “People talk about the loss of self,” he explained. “The person you used to know disappears and for many people that is a really distressing aspect. They don’t recognize the person any more.”
That rings true for Crabtree, who said “Rita at the end was an empty vessel,” one he nevertheless had to care for. Until his father ended her life – and his own.
Crabtree said other caregivers have empathized with his situation – and the relief he felt.
“They’ll come up to me … quietly [and] say, ‘Jim I’m really sorry, but you know, I’m kind of envious … You got out easy. You didn’t have to go the last mile,’” he said.
Reactions like this are more understandable when you consider the strain on caregivers’ mental health. Some 40 percent to 70 percent suffer from depression, Ercoli said. And in others, the stress boosts anxiety. Treatment for anxiety and depression can ease a caregiver’s distress, but often people don’t feel comfortable asking for help.
“People kind of just take it,” Ercoli said. “They don’t even share with their doctors.”
Experts say caregivers need to reach out to others for support – whether it’s help in caring for the patient or just with house cleaning and shopping for groceries. But even with help, caregiving is the toughest job most people will ever have.
“People don’t say, ‘I survived Alzheimer’s,’” Crabtree said. “We are the survivors. I survived caregiving.”

Wednesday, September 4, 2013

Welcome to 2nd grade

It's here.. the start to another great year.  Second grade was one of my favorites and I hope the same for B.  It was a beautiful morning with blue skies and a sunny smile.  I only took 60 photos....each one as important as the last:-)  Here are a few;
Good Luck call from Papa

The 2nd grade "do"

Second Grade

"A real desk"

2nd grade Grandma ♥

Pretty in Paisley

Ms. Moraghan & B

2nd grade Mom

Tuesday, September 3, 2013

The Night Before School






One of my favorite days (and nights) was the one just before a brand new school year.  I remember a little about each year, even kindergarten.  We were always still at the lake so the bus wasn't a factor till mid October.  Of course, we had the new clothes, the new sneakers, new underwear and the new supplies.  Supplies were nothing and I mean nothing like what is mandatory today. A pencil or two, a Bic pen, crayons and maybe a composition notebook.  In high school we had to have combination locks for our gym lockers.  I never quite understood that. Who, in their right mind, would want to steal our gym suits...yep, they were pretty bad....one piece, royal blue with snaps. I believe that 7th grade was the beginning of my recurring "nightmare" of not being able to find my locker and then not remembering the combination. That dream was as regular as prune juice at Grandma's for SIX long years, but, back to first day eve.  There was never a bedtime confrontation.  The final decision was made on the outfit, it was laid neatly on the chair with shoes and socks placed on the floor below.  A fireman couldn't have been more proud or more ready to jump into this outfit at the sound of an alarm.  Nine hours of fitful sleep and that alarm would ring.  Breakfast was on the table and then it was time..... The annual first day of school photos. We were clean, coiffed and complacent.  Each year, with the lake in the background we smiled our biggest smiles. Even through the teeth straightening years, we braced for flashbulbs, Instamatics and Polaroids.  Being taught well and being the apple (for the teacher) that didn't fall far from the tree, my kids endured the same ritual.  The bottom step on the staircase showed their growth spurts, hairstyle changes and even blossoming personalities.  I occasionally allowed them to pick out their outfits (at least they believed it was their choice!)  They routinely balked at the ritual but enjoyed it nonetheless and now they love reminiscing.
So tonight will be early to bed for Generation B.  New clothes laid out, hairstyle chosen, backpack loaded and 2nd grade on the horizon.  Grandma will be there bright and early with camera(s) in hand and a tear in her eye.  The annual spot is blooming and ready with colorful roses of Fuzzy... (It's actually a Rose of Sharon bush but faithful Fuzzy the hamster was laid to rest (and fertilize) there! 
Only one more sleep and the learning and fun begins again.  Those were the days!






Monday, September 2, 2013

Empty Nest...kind of

What a great 10 days we had having Jeff home.The kids cooked some awesome meals, the men were off to Turning Stone for a few days, the whole crew (wow..5 of us) ate together, shot together, mowed together, sacrificed a chicken together (( maybe not all of us.. I closed the doors, covered my eyes and plugged my ears), learned to yo-yo together, cooked together, played cards together, golfed together, showed off during Jeopardy together, reminisced together and chilled together....and we still like each other...cool!! Bailee loves her time with her Uncle Jeff. We concur that uncles ROCK! And then the good byes arrive...is that an oxymoron?  Regardless they suck with a capital S.  I know Grandmas probably shouldn't say "Suck" but it's just plain the right word.  I think it's time that we rethink this 700 miles separation thing...it just doesn't seem to appear to be working......at least for me.  Everyday I read all of Face Book's profound "live each day to the fullest", "remember to always tell those who mean the most that you love them", "Life is short" realities... Well then I think we should all be closer than 700 miles...There should be a minimum distance that a child is able to separate from it's Mom.  It should be a rule! Heck it should be a commandment!!!  We could promise that we wouldn't meddle, wouldn't criticize and would only offer advice when it's solicited.  In return, they would check in regularly, hug us without the eye roll and remember that our memory, eyesight and hearing aren't what they used to be...Although the eyes in the back of our heads are still functioning. I guess I ask for a lot but it seems I need you just as much or more than I did when you and I were younger. I really don't want to clip your wings.....I just want you closer to the nest♥
chatting

♥

Stare down

Bullseye

A Dad, his son and his tractor ♥