Friday, January 06, 2006

My Two Old Boys

A girlfriend recently sent around an e-mail asking three of us if we wanted to have a garage sale.  I replied that I had a 95-year-old man and a 12-year-old cat I’d like to sell.  Both of them mess up the house, and neither of them listens to me.  

My two old boys - I think they are both bored.  I spend loads of time doing FOR both of them, but I’m sure I don’t spend enough time doing things WITH either of them.  I make tasty meals for them, and clean up after both of them (my hobby).  The cat I can tell is bored when he walks around under my feet meowing.  I realize he can’t sleep all the time, but throwing the furry mouse holds my attention like 30 seconds.

Periodically I get some great article or book on activities for a person with dementia.  I set it aside, and tell myself “I am going to do this with Dad.”  Well, lately I have been trying to set some goals for my own activities - writing, journaling, goal setting, reading, meditating, and expanding my exercise routine.  It has been a HUGE struggle to incorporate even ONE of these activities into my own day, let alone multiple activities!  I guess I just need a wife so I can enjoy a clean house, tasty meals, errands and desk work all completed PLUS my own activities.  Then I also would be able to better entertain my two old boys.  Meanwhile, the cat gets to watch birds, sunbathe on the warm furry throw blanket and sniff the air outside his favorite window.  Dad gets to do his Jumble puzzle, and space out in front of the TV when he is not at the adult day care program.   Days gone by I used to be quite social with Dad, taking he and his lady friend to the beach, the park, special events etc.  That’s when we all were younger I guess.  I read this morning that after 50 it becomes more difficult to multitask.  At 56, I consider myself just on the cusp of aging.  But clearly, as a girlfriend said, I just don’t get that much done in a day.  Two old boys and one getting older girl  -- around here, we are just muddling through another year.   Not complaining, just not doing cartwheels and jumping through hoops.  At some level, I need to adjust to this, so my brain doesn’t turn it into stress and guilt over things undone.  

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