My name is Barbara, I am dealing with Alzheimers / Dementia and write almost on a daily basis. I am dealing with my health issues, which are many. I try to deal with my life in a positive way by writing and encouraging others along the way.

I want to send a message of encouragement to others who have illness, that we are not handicapped until we no longer try. Something, anything. Just please try for as long as you can. I realize this does not apply to everyone, but there are many who just give up at the sound of the words spoken. I say, for mE, Dementia/Alzheimers has mE, I do not have it.

I will write for as long as I can, I am a writer with plans of becoming a published author. I have far to go, but can only get there one step at a time.

So many are devastated trying to understand the feelings of their loved one, but communication leaves them angry and feeling alone. On the other hand the patient, when able to understand, has issues he or she tries to communicate also. My family does not always understand mE, nor I them. I can try to explain where I think I am coming from, but at the same time, often I am not even sure.

I deal through the computer by writing, going deeper than I ever have before. Using all the senses I have always had, but was too busy to acknowledge. I am "housebound" due to other health issues, so for mE to go past the front door once or twice a week is an experience to awaken all my senses and write about. As I explain to everyone, I have gone from being me to being mE through this transformation.

I am more aware, alive, and among the living than ever before. My illnesses have turned into miracles not burdens. I want others to feel this and begin to be counted among the living also, not giving up and just waiting to die. We owe ourselves more than that; we are short-changing ourselves and our families if we do not at least try.

 My current joke is, "now if it could teach mE how to spell correctly again, my wonder drug it would be." :-) A writer that cannot spell is a challenge, but so is life. No promises with many rewards if we look inside each day with our eyes wide open.

Smell the roses

“People spend a lifetime searching for happiness; looking for peace. They chase idle dreams, addictions, religions, even other people, hoping to fill the emptiness that plagues them. The irony is the only place they ever needed to search was within.” ~ Ramona L. Anderson

When you open all your senses, sharpen your awareness skills, and take yourself out the door, down the street, into an area of your town that is not perfectly manicured…then do yourself a favor and stop somewhere along the roadside.

Shut everything off, radio, cd player, and car motor. Close your eyes for a minute, breathe slowly, coming back gently. Open your eyes, emerge from the car and look around for once in your life. Take this time of year to take a mental picture of all that is around you. Then record in your mind the sounds you are hearing. Wild Geese high above, birds sending messages from trees painted in color. Feel, taste, touch, smell the earth's offerings.

If you are lucky you may find something like this: I am sure, if I listen closely, another realm deep under the many waters of time will slowly appear and comfort mE with the answers I seek. I find nature to be one of my most comforting connections to the places I am still able to enjoy.

We had a heavy rain shower Sunday, but before we left I spotted one lonely blue wildflower waiting to be noticed along the path. Close to it a long feathering unknown plant kept it company as if they were connected in some way. They seemed, meant to be together, each different yet needing the other.

After the afternoon shower, when we returned, the sun was shining on my new discoveries. I shall never forget the sparkling drops of rain glistening in rare beauty to enhance an already perfect picture. Nature had finished her work by scattering droplets of water like tiny jewels for a picture etched in my mind forever.

Possibly because I am not able to be out each day, I am noticing each small detail created before mE. Our roadsides are all ablaze at this time in shades of yellow, white and bluish-purple. Tall feathery Golden-rod is just beginning to fan the roadside in full view. Never shy, Golden-rod has always been wild and showy with her shades of golden yellow topping tall stalks of deep green leaves.

I noticed her competition seems to be a challenging tall, brightly yellow petaled flower with Daisy like features. Mother Nature has once again outdone herself with her yellow palette. That seems to be a predominant color in both spring and fall in this part of the country.

My bluish-purple cluster of single flowers stem out on a less tall stalk of dark green leaves. Nature manages to scatter her beauty so everyone can appear in the picture at different heights. Not one blossom is hidden by another to the naked eye.

In planting a garden, the gardener plans and worries over placing each blossom at the right height, in the right spot, creating the order of the human touch. Maybe a lesson could be learned here to let nature have her way in a nonconstricted manner.

The planet was never orderly in the first place. Why do we need to adjust, control, and "place" everything to our liking instead of accepting a scattering of beauty. I have read about some people "tossing" spring bulbs and planting them wherever they fall. Up and down a hillside, around a tree, along a path to nowhere. A tiny bit should be left, as if unfinished, with a promise to return again next season. Order in things to some is boring and dull.

I admit to being one of "those people." I do not opt for complete turmoil, but a dangling thread or the promise of a loose button keeps one aware of living in a non-orderly fashion.

There are no surprises in an orderly world, I for one, want to go around the next bend and find nature has something special waiting for mE. I want no sure bets, how dull to know what the outcome will be each day we live.

I prefer to leave with the sun shinning and return to find tiny sparkling jewels glistening in the late afternoon sun light. To find one precious gift in each day, beside the gift of life, creates an inner peace that shares itself without even trying.

My illness did mE a favor by stopping mE, giving mE time to "smell the roses" once more. Remember lazy summer days of sleeping late, no homework, and just being a kid? Were you able to smell the roses on a hot summer day. I was and can still remember that honey sweet smell from their delicate beauty.

In order to truly live, unlock those doors once again. It won't magically come to you unless you seek it for yourself. The simplest pleasures, costing nothing but a little time, will do more for a child or adult than anything money can buy.

Slow down before you are forced to. Good luck I pray you find wildflowers in the rain as I did.

 ~ Bobute (the old soul) mE
(Bobute is in honor of my Lithuanaina/Gypsy grandmother, whom I love dearly. Bobute means grandmother in Lithuanian.)  

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