Little jobs

             John has always been happy doing little jobs for me.  Like taking the clothes off the clothes line, unloading the dishwasher, moving the garage bins to the street on Monday evening.

               Most of the time, John can get the dishes out of the machine to the counter but he has no idea where in the cabinet they go, anymore.  I have to open the doors and point to the stack of plates or show him where the glasses go.  The draw for the sliverware is next to the dishwasher but he can't remember the location.   I noticed last week, after doing the top rake of dishes he walked away, his attention span  doesn't hold long enough to completely unload the whole dishwasher.
 
               The garage bins, I now take to the street.  The length of conversation to help him understand the project of wheeling the bin to the street is simply too tiering for me to do, anymore.  But there was a new twist to it last week, it made me do a double take.  In our driveway were the bins of our neighbor's.  Which neighbor, I am not sure,  but John decided to wheel more than our share of them back after seeing the truck go though.  A couple months ago he moved ours down along the side that neighbor's driveway.  I would call that dating garbage cans, I guess!

 the clothesline inside

Gardening about 10 days ago I wanted to finish up a detail I was working on and John was circling and circling restless and wanting to go inside.  Finally, I asked him to take the clothes off the clothes line to distract him for a few minutes.   I lifted my head occasionally and saw he just could not get the idea correct of what to do.  He would take the blue jeans off and fold in half and put back on the line have on each side with new clothes pins.  In the end, it occupied him for five minutes and he was back asking, "when are we going home?"


          I walked over and the two of us took the clothes off the line and went indoors so I could start supper.  The next day, while walking thought the living room I found John's handy work on the back of a chair.

99% Issue

       Last week on the Alzheimer Room post there was a chart listing the cost of caring for people with this disease.  I will skip the long details but two numbers I remember well.  The average stay in a nursing home for a Alzheimer person is 25.4 months and the average cost is $84,000 a year.  Think about the people in your family, your circle of friends and your neighborhood.  How many of them could put their love one into this type of care and not become one of those people living in a car?

        Our society has divided people into the throw aways people and the people that are valued.  Our society is broken.  The 99% have none of the answers but they are asking the right questions for the first time, in a long time.  I want to hear more of their questions.  This will take time, there are many questions.  Let's all listen to the questions. 

Turning 2 at 78

          There is the side of John that is quick to swear and use the 'F' word or drop a string of words that only sailors would use during a gale losing the race by a length of a boat, in a tight race, at the end of the season.  There is also the side of John that to this day will stand and wait for a woman to walk first in a door or take his cap off once he walks inside a building.  The gentleman that will greet a woman and say, "Good Morning, dear, how are you doing today?" or "You look great today".   The man that will say good bye to his gang at the Senior Center like they have been his best friends for a life time.   I have notice that they all want to be the first to tell John that I have arrived to pick him up.  John's favorite saying is, "those are nice people" and he looks at the world pretty much with that attitude.


             That same person is becoming a two year old in so many compartment of his life.  He is a two year old that needs reminding about using the bathroom.  He need to be reminded that he has to sit longer and try harder.  He is embarrassed about the mess he creates in a bathroom, to his clothes,  the shower and the lack of knowing what to do about it.  There is a John that is sad about how life is going and say, "SHHHH, SHHH".  There is a John that does not know how to make it better.  A man that forgets which bathroom is his, how long it takes to get there and how important it is to be able to explain what his needs are.

               I always feel relieved after tucking John in bed and knowing that he is all clean and safe.  I fear that timing could go wrong and all of this could happen while he is at the Senior Center and the embarrassment to John would be overwhelming.