Posted in Communication

This Christmas, Safe refuge at the kid’s table

This Christmas, I took a break from the drama and posturing at the adult table and found refuge at the kid’s table.

Yearning for the casual banter of innocence, the insight of young wisdom, and the opportunity to hear the thoughts and words of our future, I decided to sit at the kid’s table. Sitting in smaller chairs, closer to the ground, we may be better grounded than in taller, oversized adult chairs, which these days seem a little too tipsy.

The easy game of Connect the Dots yields winks and laughs as we dabble and play with our food. We chatted and giggled about the presents we had opened and those gifts we still hoped to get. I chuckle at the confused looks as we taste the cranberry sauce and smile as the dressing and mashed potatoes are swirled into a tasty mush.

Overhearing the adults discuss their ‘big people’s topics as I watch the kids. The toast for ‘world peace’ quickly regressed to biting analogies of the Middle East and Ukraine. The younger ones seem more confused as the voices rise. The ‘older ones’ frown and turn away from the tension, showing some disgust at the hypocrisy and arguments. Turning up my hearing aids just a little, I hear one mumble…’ giving aid to one for genocide and taking it away from another fighting for self-defense.’ As their heads shook a little, the simple game of hangman took on new meaning. The table returned to the whispers and giggles of youth as a game or two of tic-tac-toe started. I pondered their insight and perspective and lost the hangman game.

The lighthearted snickers and under-the-table poking were interrupted as another bottle of wine was opened for the adults. A hearty toast at their table as we lifted our glasses of water and mimicked them with our silly smiles and googly eyes. The topics at the big people’s table ebbed and flowed about current events, sports, business, and then back to politics. I shook my head and wished they could listen to us at the kid’s table. We were having fun, laughing, and smiling. Their table got louder as abortion and women’s rights became the main topic. Then the epiphany. One of the girls whispers to another…’ great, the convicted sex predator wants to protect us whether we like it or not…cringe…’ I turned my hearing aids back down, hoping to give them the space they needed and not become the adult at the table.

I thought about what I’d heard at both tables. I wanted to avoid the stress and conflict at the adult table, but I only saw and heard the stress that wafted across the room to the kid’s table. Their young minds are open to so much. Soaking in everything and forming opinions that will drive our world’s future. Too much stress. Too much tension. The heat spilling out of the kitchen to the tables filled with the cornucopia of abundance. We sat there wondering about those with so much less and how fortunate we were. This privileged family has the luxury of having discussions and not worrying about where their next meal is coming from. And yet, these adults don’t realize they may be forming irreversible opinions and generational hate through their terse and tense words.

We, the adults, can impart hope or hate. We can show how to listen and try to understand. It is our choice, and they, the kids, are watching and listening to everything.

My distracted thoughts were interrupted when the youngest leaned over, tapped me, and said, ‘Knock, knock.’ I smiled and thought, ‘Maybe, just maybe, things will be alright’…’ Who’s there?’

NeverFearTheDream     simplebender.com

This article was first published in the Bend Bulletin 12/26/24

Posted in Joy In Alzheimer's

Joy In Alzheimer’s*: Episode 57: Eulogy

Joy was an amazing woman, friend, wife, and mother. Her ninety-one years were filled with love for everyone she met, adventure, and a caring spirit right to the end. Joy passed on September 22, 2024. Some of her final words were, ‘I’m the most blessed person in the world.’ We didn’t have the heart to tell her it was us, all of us, whom she made the most blessed just by being her and being part of our lives.

Joy was born in far west Texas in 1933 as the depression was slowing ending. She grew up on a farm/ranch learning to keep everything, ‘just in case,’ and more importantly, acceptance. Her playmates and friends on the ranch and the small school were of mixed races and religions. She imparted her conviction of acceptance to her sons, their friends, and hers.

Joy didn’t just study the Bible; she lived its teachings. She brought her love of people, all people, to the Presbyterian Session and helped guide her church to be inclusive and welcoming, to teach lessons of life, and to be better neighbors. Joy often said she prayed twice because she was so engaged in the church choir.

Joy would often say the only thing she ever wanted to be was a wife and mother. She was terrific at both. She was a dedicated, loving wife. She traveled the backroads of Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, and Wyoming, living and starting a family in a trailer with her life partner as he worked the mining fields and mineral exploration projects. These were her ‘nomad’ years, which were at times lonely and hard but mostly filled with adventure and broadening experiences.

To us, she was the best mom and mom to our friends. To her grandchildren and great-grandchildren, she was the best Momo ever. She was always there. She always had a hand to hold when ours were scared and trembling. She always had kind, loving, supporting words, teaching us the lessons she felt she needed to impart. She took all our friends under her wing and gave them the same love and attention she gave us. She opened our home and welcomed anyone who needed a place to stay. She didn’t care about gender, race, or religion; they were our friends, and therefore, they were her extra children, whom she loved.

Joy was an accomplished lady when women weren’t necessarily supposed to be. She earned a teaching degree and worked as a substitute teacher. Then, she returned to college fifteen years later, earning a Bachelor of Science in Library Science. Joy was a fantastic Cub Scout Den Mother. She was instrumental in converting the high school from a PTA to a PTSA because she believed the student’s opinions should be heard. Joy was a religious leader and was one of the first women Deacons and Elders in the local Presbyterian church. Joy strenuously advocated for a new neighborhood hospital and gave testimony before the Texas State Legislature. But Joy was most proud to be on the Board of Directors of the Lee Moor Children’s Home in El Paso. She was a tireless advocate for the children and their future. And Joy was always one who never turned down a glass of wine or a piece of Dove dark chocolate. Cheers, Joy….

Joy knew time with people was more special than any task. She spent time making a friend with everyone and helping whenever she could. Ironically, that helping hand became her downfall. She would be all right with that if she could remember. Joy lived with the idea that if you want to go fast, you go alone; if you want to go far, take someone with you. She took many of us by the hand and took us along on an incredible journey. A person’s reach should be longer than their grasp. Joy’s reach has touched so many far, far, beyond her grasp, and we are all much, so much better because of her. She will never be gone as long as we remember her and tell her stories.

Next up….Epilogue

NeverFearTheDream    #JoyInAlzheimer’s    simplebender.com