tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-61396929084986650642024-03-13T05:08:51.955-07:00The Longest DayJoyce Ellen Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13494251587598676788noreply@blogger.comBlogger29125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6139692908498665064.post-51677958520116755322015-10-31T19:23:00.001-07:002015-10-31T20:03:22.065-07:00THE SAILOR"S GRAVEDad was sitting there watching Dateline on TV, and suddenly began to sing:<br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana; font-size: 12px; line-height: 17.1429px;">Our barque was far, far from the land </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana; font-size: 12px; line-height: 17.1429px;">When the fairest of our gallant band </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana; font-size: 12px; line-height: 17.1429px;">Grew deadly pale, and pined away </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana; font-size: 12px; line-height: 17.1429px;">Like the twilight dawn of an autumn day. </span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: verdana; font-size: 12px; line-height: 17.1429px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana; font-size: 12px; line-height: 17.1429px;">We watched him through long hours of pain. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana; font-size: 12px; line-height: 17.1429px;">Our fears were great, our hopes in vain. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana; font-size: 12px; line-height: 17.1429px;">Death�s call he heard; made no alarm. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana; font-size: 12px; line-height: 17.1429px;">He smiled and died in his messmate�s arms. </span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: verdana; font-size: 12px; line-height: 17.1429px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana; font-size: 12px; line-height: 17.1429px;">We had no costly winding sheet. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana; font-size: 12px; line-height: 17.1429px;">We placed two round shot at his feet </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana; font-size: 12px; line-height: 17.1429px;">And in his hammock, snug and sound: </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana; font-size: 12px; line-height: 17.1429px;">A kingly shroud like marble bound. </span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: verdana; font-size: 12px; line-height: 17.1429px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana; font-size: 12px; line-height: 17.1429px;">We proudly decked his funeral vest </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana; font-size: 12px; line-height: 17.1429px;">With a starry flag upon his breast. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana; font-size: 12px; line-height: 17.1429px;">We gave him this as a badge so brave, </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana; font-size: 12px; line-height: 17.1429px;">Then he was fit for a sailor�s grave. </span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: verdana; font-size: 12px; line-height: 17.1429px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana; font-size: 12px; line-height: 17.1429px;">Our voices broke, our hearts turned weak </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana; font-size: 12px; line-height: 17.1429px;">And tears were seen on the brownest cheek. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana; font-size: 12px; line-height: 17.1429px;">A quiver played on the lip of pride </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana; font-size: 12px; line-height: 17.1429px;">As we lowered him down our ship�s dark side. </span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: verdana; font-size: 12px; line-height: 17.1429px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana; font-size: 12px; line-height: 17.1429px;">A splash, a plunge and our task was o�er </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana; font-size: 12px; line-height: 17.1429px;">And the billows rolled as they rolled before, </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana; font-size: 12px; line-height: 17.1429px;">And many a prayer said to the wave </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana; font-size: 12px; line-height: 17.1429px;">That lowered him in a sailor's grave.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana; font-size: 12px; line-height: 17.1429px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana; font-size: 12px; line-height: 17.1429px;">(I guess Burl Ives used to sing this. :D He said, "I TOLD you i knew a lot of folk songs way before folk songs were popular!)</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana; font-size: 12px; line-height: 17.1429px;"><br /></span>Joyce Ellen Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13494251587598676788noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6139692908498665064.post-55565514237107314882015-10-31T18:02:00.000-07:002015-10-31T18:02:04.973-07:00Been A WhileIt's been a while. We're still here. Dad forgets things more often, Yesterday I said if he would pick up his pants that needed to be washed and go through the pockets, I would wash them. He said OK the three times I asked him, So I finally did it myself. This morning I was about to fold them and put them on hangers and he volunteered, so he got most of them done, and then lost interest, except for the socks he couldn't find mates for. I said to go look in the bedroom on the chair where he likes to pile his clotohes, and maybe he would find some matches. He came back about ten minutes later. I said, "Did you find any."<br />
"Any what?"<br />
"Socks."<br />
"Why was I looking for socks?"<br />
<br />
Earlier in the day he told me there was a big puddle of water "out there." So I went and looked in the kitchen and in the wash room, where he had just been.<br />
Me: "I don't see any puddles. Where was it?"<br />
Him: "Where was what?"<br />
Me: "The puddle of water."<br />
Him: "Well, that was an hour ago." He has no sense of time. If we are going to have lunch with his friend Joe, as we do every Thursday I have to remind him three or four times that he needs to hurry a little faster. In the car he tells me "I don't know why we can't be on time so Joe doesn't have to wait for us!" Everything always happened "an hour ago" in his mind.<br />
<br />
He makes up stories that I'm sure are real in his mind. He thinks our good friend Steve told him "I hate your fu*kin' guts." We go out for lunch once a month with these old friends. This is something Steve would NEVER do.<br />
<br />
Dr. Shakeri said she thinks maybe he doesn't have Alzheimer's. She says he definitely has dementia, but she thinks that by now he would be much worse than he is. For the most part, in the moment, he is lucid, and funny. He likes to watch the courtroom shows on TV, he likes NCIS.<br />
<br />
He went to a Neurologist last week. Said the President of the United States was George Bush and that we were at that moment living in Santa Ana. "If it's not Santa Ana, then I don't know where it is."<br />
<br />
He thought the month might be March.<br />
<br />
<br />Joyce Ellen Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13494251587598676788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6139692908498665064.post-28905098513681446172015-02-20T12:12:00.003-08:002015-02-20T12:16:47.442-08:00Living in Two PiecesDoesn't sleep well at night--sleeps in 2 shifts, like they apparently did in the Middle Ages. Comes to bed at midnight, get up around 2:30 am goes out and watches TV until 5:30 or 6:00 when the paper comes, then does the crossword puzzle. Comes back to bed and sleeps until noon. Today he says, "I wish I could live in one piece instead of two." <br />
<br />
Lately he has been dreaming of a little girl named Lynette he knew when he worked at Juvenile Hall in Orange County. Abused and alone. Fifty years ago.<br />
<br />
Forgot how many children we have, thought it was four. Consistently thinks he is ninety one or two, and seems surprised when I tell him he is ten years younger than that. :)Joyce Ellen Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13494251587598676788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6139692908498665064.post-10994644293356779632014-11-07T09:15:00.001-08:002014-11-07T09:15:54.456-08:00The Alzheimers Project<a href="http://www.hbo.com/alzheimers/" rel="nofollow" style="background-color: white; color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">http://www.hbo.com/alzheimers/</a>Joyce Ellen Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13494251587598676788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6139692908498665064.post-86178934763976306662014-11-07T09:14:00.000-08:002014-11-07T09:14:29.466-08:00Five X Five<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;">I never love you</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;">More than when you reach</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;">Out, asleep, and take</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;">Hold of my hand. Your</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;">Body keeps me real.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;">-- Bethany W Pope</span>Joyce Ellen Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13494251587598676788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6139692908498665064.post-61873951979405170202014-11-07T09:13:00.003-08:002014-11-07T09:13:18.183-08:00What Is Your Name?https://www.facebook.com/video.php?v=1058166030877659Joyce Ellen Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13494251587598676788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6139692908498665064.post-86258126996728667072014-10-07T20:34:00.000-07:002014-10-07T20:34:02.876-07:00Everything is fine. The paramedics just left.... Tonight Marv said he was going to take a little walk around the block. I had a meeting at the library, and about ten minutes after he left my ride came for me. I called home about 20 minutes later to see if everything was Ok. No answer. So I tried again after another 20 minutes and he answered, said everything was fine.<br />
<br />
When I got home about an hour later, his elbow was hamburger, his eyebrow was split and swollen and there was blood all over his shirt. Apparently somewhere between Cancun Mexican Restaurant and the liquor store he fell. He says a bunch of ladies came out and surrounded him, the police came (again) and an ambulance brought him home.<br />
<br />
I am overwhelmed with guilt, remembering another meeting I was at years ago. Linn was home with the little boys. I called home to see if everything was ok, and he answered, "Yes, everything is fine. The paramedics just left...." (Linn had been giving the little boys bike rides down to the school at the end of the street, and Jeremy got his foot caught in the spokes.)Joyce Ellen Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13494251587598676788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6139692908498665064.post-80645556132053084012014-09-16T21:13:00.000-07:002014-09-17T07:41:22.969-07:00911I had to call 911 for the first time this afternoon. Marv and I went to the store. Before we were done, he said he was really really tired and I told him to go to the front of the store and find a chair and rest. I finished up and found him, we unloaded our bags into the car and were off to In 'n' Out for burgers, as we usually do on Tuesdays when I have my poetry meeting. In the line waiting for our burgers he mentioned again how tired he was. I said, "You would get stronger and not feel so weak if you'd walk a little every day." He leaped out of the car, angry. "I;m not going to listen to this all the way home!" he yelled as I tried to grasp his pants or his shirt to pull him back in. "Get back in here," I tried to sound like I had some kind of authority. "Right now!" "No," he said, "I am going to walk home!"<br />
<br />
And he went lumbering off, heading north. I couldn't go forward or backward, and lost sight of him before I got out of the line. I tried to think what I should do. I looked for him until I knew he wouldn't have made it this far, and traffic was heavy, and it was 92* hot. I knew I couldn't look for him and drive at the same time, so I hurried home and called 911. Three big police cars arrived and took all the information I could give them--height, weight, hair color, clothing etc...and they went looking for him. An hour later they returned with him in tow. He had come quite a ways.<br />
<br />
"I sure was glad to get a ride home," he told me. "I don't think I could have taken one more step!"<br />
<br />
He had no idea why he was out there walking on the side of the road, alone. And a little later, he remembered none of it. As if it never happened. "Boy, am I hungry," he said. "What have we got to eat?" When I showed him his In 'n' Out burger, fries, and Pepsi he was delighted.<br />
<br />
Our son Marc said he went out like a lion and in like a lamb! Yep!<br />
<br />
<br />
Thanks to the folks at 911, and to those great police guys for finding him and bringing him home safe!Joyce Ellen Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13494251587598676788noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6139692908498665064.post-14291829155037020182014-09-01T16:46:00.000-07:002014-09-01T16:46:01.832-07:00Golden CorralWe went out for lunch again today at the Golden Corral. We were supposed to meet with a couple of guests who didn't show, so we went anyway. Marv asked me at least ten times where we were going, and why. We filled up our first plate, me with salad, he with a plate FULL of chicken (which he has previously decided he doesn't like) and other stuff. He ate about half of it, looked at the rest and asked, "WHO put all this stuff on my plate?" :D He was really mystified....<br />
<br />
He carefully wrapped up the chicken bones in a napkin for the dogs. Then he took the meat he had torn off and I put it in a plastic sandwich bag to take home for the dogs. He found the napkin-wrapped bones and asked, "What is this? We're not saving this for anything, are we?" Before we left he wanted to give me the bones. "Just leave them there on the plate," I said, and he did.<br />
<br />
Had pink cotton candy for dessert!Joyce Ellen Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13494251587598676788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6139692908498665064.post-82663235306616713212014-08-30T11:32:00.001-07:002014-08-30T11:32:15.454-07:00Don't Confuse ThemDoing his crossword puzzle amid a screeching of sirens going on outside.<br />
<br />
Me: Wow! There is something exciting going on somewhere!<br />
Marv: You should get in the car and follow them, and then you'll know what it is.<br />
Me: Like I'm a news reporter....<br />
Marv: Yeah. You can write PRESS on a piece of paper and put it in the window. Just don't write <br />
IRON. It might confuse them.<br />
<br />
LOLJoyce Ellen Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13494251587598676788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6139692908498665064.post-78503431599086071222014-08-10T11:37:00.000-07:002014-08-10T11:37:33.086-07:00Paris HiltonI woke Marv to see if he was up to going to church. He said, "No," and went back to sleep for another two hours. When he woke up he told me about his dream: Paris Hilton and her 11-year-old brother were living with us, and had been all summer. He decided we needed to take them somewhere, so he found the Red streetcar (from his boyhood) and we all got in and traveled to Los Angeles, where we looked for tickets to go on to the Grand Canyon. None were available, so we stayed and played in California! <br />
<br />
He said it was a good dream! A visit with Paris Hilton is always worth skipping church for.Joyce Ellen Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13494251587598676788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6139692908498665064.post-82081838623821774972014-07-20T13:36:00.000-07:002014-07-20T13:36:12.694-07:00ConcessionsWell, Joe's wife, Loma has been driving him to the Thursday lunches at Wendy's. That is good news. Both Joe and Marv seem to really enjoy their time together over burgers and fries. I can't imagine what they talk about for an hour. Loma goes to visit her brother who lives nearby. Last Thursday while I waited, I found a new little bookstore that is air-conditioned and has comfortable chairs to sit and read in. I bought two books, Mark Twain's Letters From the Earth, and Emma Lou Thayne's Once in Israel, which I think I already have, but don't know where it is.<br />
<br />
Yesterday Marv voluntarily gave me his car keys. Now I have his wallet with all his credit cards, including his driver's licence and medical cards. I found his cell phone (while I was looking for his wallet). I put all his banking records online with mine, so I have access to both. Yesterday we went out to buy a new fridge. The old one leaks a continual puddle of water on the floor, and the door is falling off. RCWilly will deliver it on Wednesday. A few hours after we got home, Marv asked, "Did we buy a new refrigerator today?" I told him we did. He said, "I thought so, but it's all like a dream. Everything is really cloudy."<br />
<br />
He hasn't wanted to go to church for a few Sundays now, and I am just as happy to stay home with him.Joyce Ellen Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13494251587598676788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6139692908498665064.post-91411077181660483792014-06-20T08:34:00.001-07:002014-06-20T08:34:56.007-07:00Our AnniversaryYesterday we celebrated our fiftieth anniversary, the "golden" one. We had dinner at the Red Lobster, the "4 course" listed on the menu: clam chowder and a garden salad, butterfly shrimp, pineapple shrimp on a skewer, cheese biscuits, and for dessert a brownie with chocolate sauce and ice cream. ( We brought hope a take-out box full of broccoli. :) ) Later that night he came in to kiss me goodnight and wished me Happy Anniverary, again. "What is it," he said. "About our 90th?"<br />
<br />
Earlier in the day he had lunch at Wendy's with his friend, Joe Bennett. They've been good friends for many years, and this Thursday lunch has been a ritual. Yesterday Joe got lost on his way home. His wife was frantic. They found him somewhere in the south end of the Valley. That was his second time getting lost on his way home. Now Marv is afraid Loma won't let him drive to their Thursday lunch any more. When we were in bed, he reached out and held my hand, and said, "Now you are the only friend I have left."<br />
<br />
He doesn't think she will drive Joe there, as I have been driving him. "He'll just have to stay home in prison," Marv said.<br />
<br />
I thought Marv would put up a big fuss when I told him I would drive to their lunches. He didn't, which I am grateful for.Joyce Ellen Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13494251587598676788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6139692908498665064.post-43172696470558293992014-06-16T12:27:00.000-07:002014-06-16T12:27:17.462-07:00Father's Day June 15th 2014Had a really nice dinner with Marc and Grace yesterday to celebrate Father's Day. A good day. Today Marv wanted to go out to get something to eat (probably an In 'N Out burger!) and I reminded him than we had a fridge FULL of food Gracie sent over last night. He said, "I know who Grace is, but I can't picture what she looks like...." <br />
<br />
I got out the album that has the photos from our trip to the Philippines, and we went through it. I showed him pictures of Grace. He said, "We sure have been lots of places, haven't we!" <br />
<br />
I'm glad we have lots of pictures.Joyce Ellen Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13494251587598676788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6139692908498665064.post-90153077699487161472014-06-02T10:55:00.002-07:002014-06-02T10:55:28.030-07:00MaryJanehttp://www.thecannabist.co/2014/06/01/family-greg-ploetz-finds-marijuana-treatment-dementia-former-football-player/12871/Joyce Ellen Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13494251587598676788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6139692908498665064.post-8961254754451201042013-10-16T09:32:00.000-07:002013-10-16T09:32:11.452-07:00<a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/health-24462699">http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/health-24462699</a><br />
<br />Joyce Ellen Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13494251587598676788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6139692908498665064.post-65057781269759160512013-09-06T19:36:00.002-07:002013-09-06T19:36:32.236-07:00Fighting Alzheimer's with Love<span style="background-color: #fff9ee; color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, 'Palatino Linotype', Palatino, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; text-align: justify;">http://health.yahoo.net/videos/hooplaha/fighting-alzheimers-love</span>Joyce Ellen Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13494251587598676788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6139692908498665064.post-66230544153077129772013-09-04T15:42:00.001-07:002013-09-04T15:42:35.527-07:00New Alzheimer's Drug<a href="http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2013/09/130904130328.htm?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+sciencedaily%2Ftop_news+%28ScienceDaily%3A+Top+News%29&utm_content=FaceBook">http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2013/09/130904130328.htm?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+sciencedaily%2Ftop_news+%28ScienceDaily%3A+Top+News%29&utm_content=FaceBook</a>Joyce Ellen Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13494251587598676788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6139692908498665064.post-4570107565691709502013-08-28T09:19:00.002-07:002013-08-28T09:19:45.279-07:00A Place for Grief<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: OpenSansRegular, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 24.96875px;">The grief is always there, I’ve taken Stephen Colbert’s excellent advice to simply make a place for grief, to acknowledge that it’s always at the door and will find a way in if I don’t welcome it. I don’t try to shut it down, and sometimes I make specific plans to give it the space it needs. - I know this with my head. Now I just have to explain it to my heart. (Jana Reiss)</span>Joyce Ellen Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13494251587598676788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6139692908498665064.post-8414728018854342792013-08-24T21:53:00.002-07:002013-08-24T21:53:19.018-07:00What Do I Want?<h5 class="_1_s" data-ft="{"tn":"C"}" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 16px; margin: 4px 15px 1px 0px; padding: 0px;">
<span class="fcg" style="color: #89919c;"> <a aria-haspopup="true" aria-owns="js_160" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/page.php?id=112576322114494" href="https://www.facebook.com/FibroNetwork" id="js_158" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;">Fibromyalgia Network</a>'s <a href="https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=495227613849361&set=a.151706978201428.26936.112576322114494&type=1" rel="theater" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;">photo</a>.</span></h5>
Joyce Ellen Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13494251587598676788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6139692908498665064.post-11928419128582389682013-08-24T21:49:00.001-07:002013-08-24T21:49:06.706-07:00True Love<span style="background-color: white; color: grey; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;">TRUE LOVE ..(A Doctor's note) Must Read n share </span><br style="background-color: white; color: grey; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: grey; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: grey; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;">It was approximately 8.30 a.m. on a busy morning when an elderly gentleman in his eighties arrived to have sti</span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: grey; display: inline; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;">tches removed from his thumb. He stated that he was in a hurry as he had an appointment at 9.00 a.m.<br /><br />I took his vital signs and had him take a seat. I knew it would take more than an hour before someone would to able to attend to him. I saw him check his watch anxi.ously for the time and decided to evaluate his wound since I was not busy with another patient.<br /><br />On examination, the wound was well healed. Hence, I talked to one of the doctors to get the supplies to remove his sutures and redress his wound.<br /><br />We began to engage in a conversation while I was taking care of his wound. I asked him if he had another doctor's appointment later as he was in such a hurry. The gentleman told me no and said that he needed to go to the nursing home to have breakfast with his wife.<br /><br />I inquired about her health. He told me that she had been in the nursing home for a while as she was a victim of Alzheimer's disease. I probed further and asked if she would be upset if he was slightly late. He replied that she no longer knew who he was and she had not been able to recognize him since five years ago.<br />I asked him in surprise, "And you still go every morning, even though she doesn't know who you are?"<br />He smiled as he patted my hand and said, "She doesn't know me, but I still know who she is."<br /><br />I had to hold back my tears as he left.<br />I had goose bumps on my arm, and I thought, "That is the kind of love I want in my life."<br /><br />True love is neither physical nor romantic. True love is an acceptance of all that is, has been, will be, and will not be.</span>Joyce Ellen Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13494251587598676788noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6139692908498665064.post-43879896792880964642013-08-17T09:56:00.001-07:002013-08-17T09:56:11.564-07:00Dynamic Duo!<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">Without you I'm just the dynamic uno ....</span>Joyce Ellen Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13494251587598676788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6139692908498665064.post-42792075542396834182013-08-16T11:15:00.002-07:002013-08-16T11:15:02.450-07:00The Blue One!<span style="background-color: #fff9ee; color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, 'Palatino Linotype', Palatino, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; text-align: justify;">At Costco, after buying hot dogs and a drink to share (a Pepsi with 2 straws, both blue). Marvin (with a smile): "You can tell which straw is mine--mine's the blue one!" :)</span>Joyce Ellen Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13494251587598676788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6139692908498665064.post-58900248526385738442013-08-16T11:13:00.002-07:002013-08-16T11:13:28.959-07:00Neverending Story<span style="background-color: #fff9ee; color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, 'Palatino Linotype', Palatino, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; text-align: justify;">"The real challenge for me has been in trying to expand my mind enough to comprehend my own catastrophe without letting it become that way. I've tried to let it just be part of me, part of who I am becoming, and to always keep in mind what I have gained, not just what I've lost. This story doesn't end, and it doesn't need to be a tragedy. It's still a story of love, even if it's love under trial." ~Brooke Hopkins</span>Joyce Ellen Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13494251587598676788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6139692908498665064.post-4778401210439756972013-08-16T11:11:00.002-07:002013-08-16T11:11:18.113-07:00The Amber of the Moment<br />
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<h2 class="date-header" style="color: black; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 1em; min-height: 0px; position: relative;">
<span style="background-color: #bbbbbb; color: white; letter-spacing: 3px; margin: inherit; padding: 0.4em;">Thursday, August 15, 2013</span></h2>
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<a href="" name="4113291880964629428"></a><h3 class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name" style="font-size: 22px; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0.75em 0px 0px; position: relative;">
On Time</h3>
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Lately I've been thinking a lot about time; how we try to condense it, stretch it, pause it, fast-forward and erase it. I've been thinking about how we try to control it and make it ours, or fight it, or ignore it, or wrap it with a bow and bestow it as a gift that isn't ours to give. I've been thinking about how much energy we exert on trying to bend something so immalleable, and why we relentlessly toil in a task so futile. Time is both short and inexorable, coveted and dispelled, treasured and wasted, fleeting and tangible. Time is our most valued currency, but it can't be bartered, bought or sold. Time is quite an elusively peculiar creature, and the more I think about it, the more difficult it becomes to define and understand.<br /><br />Harper had her first day of Preschool on Monday. On Sunday night, I packed her backpack with sunscreen, a change of clothes and a water bottle as her teacher had instructed. I laid out the grey leggings and blue unicorn T-shirt she had picked out at Target. I put Goldfish and dried mangos in her Ninja Turtles snackbox, then sat at the kitchen table and cried. For months I had been waiting for this time. I had been looking forward to the nine hours each week I could spend doing whatever I pleased. For so long, I had wanted time to speed up so that I could have a little to myself. But the night before sending my only daughter off to school, I was crying at the kitchen table, begging time to keep my child a baby forever.<br /><br />The next day I picked Harper up from preschool and sat down with her for lunch. We ate grilled cheese sandwiches and made funny faces with each other. I listened to her guttural laugh and smiled sitting at the table I had cried on the night before. I looked at her laughing face and wondered if I had ever been happier. It was a moment of pure elation, one that I wanted to pause and repeat over and over like a scene from my favorite movie.<br /><br />I've been thinking a lot about that simple lunch, wondering why it brought such deep joy. I dissected the events trying to isolate the happiness variable; grilled cheese, carrots, hummus, funny faces, laughter. No factor had any intrinsic connection to happiness. I finally realized that the joy came from being entirely immersed in that moment in time. I wasn't thinking about what to make for dinner, or how the bathroom needed to be cleaned, or when Rivers needed the car. My only concern was the sound of Harper's laughter, the way her eyes turned to slits when she smiled just like her dad, and how perfectly wild she was. I realized how seldom I find myself truly immersed in time. For all of the ways I try to change time, or spend it, or make it go away, I very rarely appreciate what time has brought me.<br /><br />When Harper was a newborn, I couldn't wait for her to smile, babble and crawl. When she was mobile, I thought about how fun it would be when she could walk. When she ran, I was excited for her to talk. Now that she's talking (incessantly), I sometimes wish she was a newborn again so that I could cuddle her and bask in her innocence. I've enjoyed every stage of her existence, but like with most things in life, I've looked forward to the next phase or relished the past more than I've lived in the present.<br /><br />It seems only when time is threatened to be taken away from me that I truly appreciate it. How much more enriched would my life be if I chose to live fully in every moment? I exert so much energy on trying to control, fix and trap time, but when it's finally in my hands, do I truly appreciate it?<br /><br />I'm writing this blog to remember that grilled cheese lunch of laughter, the one when I wasn't looking at the clock or the dirty dishes or the unfolded laundry. The lunch that I wasn't carrying on a half-interested conversation with Harper while writing a grocery list, or To Do list, or planning the afternoon's activities in my head. I'm writing this blog to remember that all the planning, scheduling and organization means nothing if I don't make the most of my time when I'm in it. I don't want to have another Dr. Seussian moment of "How did it get so late so soon?" as I did crying on the kitchen table lamenting the loss of Harper's babyhood.<br /><br />I want to live in the amber of the moment, and not ask why.</div>
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Joyce Ellen Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13494251587598676788noreply@blogger.com1