Susan Miller is an Astrologer.
She has provided a free site, AstrologyZone.com, for many years now.
This is a phrase I copied one day.
It still resonates no matter what the day.
"In so many ways, astrological aspects build on each other over a lifetime.
We are not born new into each month, but rather, we bring with us all sorts of ongoing projects,
dreams, goals, relationships, and maybe a setback, into that new month, that we may still be thinking about.
The point is, we bring life with us into every month and the story of our lives keeps being woven into a magnificent tapestry."
Well put, Susan.
Always,
Nancy McEldowney
Monday, November 21, 2011
Wanting The Joy
Some of the things that happen to me now,
make me feel like I'm dieing.
I can't believe I have spent so much time crying.
I have mischief in my heart and I have always felt joy in my brand new starts.
So lately, I'm just not sure who this new me will be.
Can you see?
I'm pushing hard and fast to chase the ghosties out of my past.
I'm holding on for dear life.
I'm creating a new universe, if I might.
But is this me, I can't tell.
Can you see?
I've been looking in my books,
and I'm carrying stones in my pockets again.
Sometimes, the things that happen to me now,
make me miss being bottle-washer and cook.
Taking another backwards look.
This now was the maybe when, then.
Can you see?
Sometimes I can see.
Sometimes I am so strong.
Then I am surely stripped to me.
Once again,
all I have been, all I am, all I will be, is what you see.
Makes me weak to think today.
I guess I just still had these words to say.
I'm quiet now and I will be all day long.
Tomorrow I will be strong.
Nancy McEldowney
9/29/01
make me feel like I'm dieing.
I can't believe I have spent so much time crying.
I have mischief in my heart and I have always felt joy in my brand new starts.
So lately, I'm just not sure who this new me will be.
Can you see?
I'm pushing hard and fast to chase the ghosties out of my past.
I'm holding on for dear life.
I'm creating a new universe, if I might.
But is this me, I can't tell.
Can you see?
I've been looking in my books,
and I'm carrying stones in my pockets again.
Sometimes, the things that happen to me now,
make me miss being bottle-washer and cook.
Taking another backwards look.
This now was the maybe when, then.
Can you see?
Sometimes I can see.
Sometimes I am so strong.
Then I am surely stripped to me.
Once again,
all I have been, all I am, all I will be, is what you see.
Makes me weak to think today.
I guess I just still had these words to say.
I'm quiet now and I will be all day long.
Tomorrow I will be strong.
Nancy McEldowney
9/29/01
Random Acts Of Kindness
It feels like I have just been through another grand opportunity.
The simple phrase, "When preparation meets opportunity.....", keeps silently ringing in my ears.
I am not really sure how these things present themselves to me.
I just know that I was truly compelled to do it.
Just as I am compelled to tell you how this went down,
here,
now.
It all really began last weekend, when I gave myself just one yard sale to wander. Tight budget but we have to give ourselves fun, no matter how small the gesture.
I had a ten dollar bill and so that was my limit.
I looked around, as I stepped through the beautiful white wooden gate. The ancient, stone walkway was lined with a collection of kitchen cabinets that were to be installed, but that were now being re-sold.
The bank is taking the house.
She has to be done by today, Monday, at 9:30 a.m., because that is when they are coming to lock the place up.
Beyond the collection I could see piles of dusty treasures that someone just piled there.
Hoping to see people do the searching, for the home owner, the home owner was not getting enough in return for all this effort.
It was a train wreck and I just couldn't look away.
Last weekend I gave her that ten dollars for a beautiful pedestal sink.
It has a spot waiting by the hose out back. If you enjoy out door garden hobbies,
you need a sink out there.
At least, that was the first five.
The second paid for a rain shower head with sturdy hose and spray attachment.
I switched the spray attachment for the one I had before and replaced the three threaded connector that connects it all to the wall and each other. Wanted one similar to this for a very long time.
Wasn't a budget for it.
I promised myself to return to her to be useful. It looked like she was a little overdue for a random act of kindness.
I stopped by on Thursday, after I had done two clients.
I told her that I was just finishing my day and was passing here on my way home. I was tired and wondered how this tired person was doing. She smiled.
I told her I couldn't stay then but that I was coming Saturday morning, around 9 or 10, to work.
She looked at me almost from a stink eye but I told her I had no other motives than to be useful where needed. She smiled again and we agreed to see each other Saturday.
Fast forward to the day before yesterday.
When I arrived, she looked at me unsure.
I just told her I was there, "Paying It Forward".
I spent the whole day brushing and arranging and erecting, the yard sale , "departments".
Yard sale wandering people watched and roamed as I worked the stuff. The home owner and her family just kept bringing out things from the piles filling every space, every building on this property.
Hoarding.
I just kept selling and getting twenty dollar bills to the home owner. Soon she got a grin and worked better.
It takes so much out of a hoarder just to face each day living like that.
When the time comes to let go, the build up has grown into something bigger. The days have shaped and re-shaped the home owners' opinion of herself.
This was a Hoarder and I could see the pain of loss in her eyes. So tired she was finally able to part with things, but the original price always had to be discussed. One way to deal but not really productive.
I just kept reminding her that this is a yard sale. That this information doesn't necessarily apply here.
I told her I was proud of her and that this was almost over. She is close to the deadline and she will be walking away.
She admitted to me that now she could die.
She just turned to me and nonchalantly said,
"Now I can die."
She said that she didn't want her family to have to do this, after.
I could tell it was a comfort to her to have them there to help, now.
It's really a family thing.
I just know where my energy can help sometimes and here I was.
All the forward motion we all were creating in this woman's life and with every step she seemed to find a way to beat herself up over how it ever got this way. Unproductive.
Her brother was sitting on the porch at one point late the first day. He spoke loudly and said, "My sister is a hoarder"! Unnecessary harshness.
I shouted back, "Do I know her?"
Hoarders don't sell and give away and work through the junk.
This woman was being a warrior, not complaining very much, staying busy between moments of panic, and I was proud of her.
The day lead me as I created a place to work and sell. I forgot eating lunch but Dorothy gave me a big bowl of chicken chile. She had doctored up a can of Denison's chile and it was very good.
Just what I needed to work the rest of the afternoon productively.
I made my way home by 5:00.
Tired, grungy, proud of my day.
There is something to be said for, paying it forward.
After all that positive effort, I didn't have it in me to throw in with the, "Beat-up Dorothy Club.
That can be a family thing, too.
Sunday had a different flow.
Dorothy was more grounded, considering, and she had real information about the financial reality of renting a big truck and moving herself and her home to Pennsylvania from Nevada.
By about noon, she told me that the yard sale paid for the truck and enough gas to drive to Texas.
We were doing it and she knew it.
She would be looking stronger, then start getting that panic back. I would find her sitting,
bewildered and fretful.
Grand sons, three and five, kept her distracted with love and imagination for Gramma's toys.
Didn't cause much harm because we were in the home stretch now.
Her son and brother were rushing through, getting the truck loaded before dark.
Her precious things were so processed now that she could only hope she had saved enough to satisfy,
when she got to her new home.
Then she turned to me.
She wanted to know if I would like to return after she left, to scavenge.
I admitted that I had had a dream the night before where a woman had continued to shout at me, "But What Do You Want?!?"
She looked at me and said, "Do you mean like this? What Do You WANT?"!
Oh my goodness, that was the look on the woman's face and the sound of her voice!
We just laughed and I said, "Okay, I will tell you what could be useful to me and what I have no budget for".
You got it, she was wonderfully generous with me and she gave me 12 boxes of stone tile and a tile cutter. Also a small ceiling fan, a free standing mailbox and white baseboard to put in my living room. I think there will be enough tile to do the bathroom and perhaps a back splash behind the stove.
All a gift and treasured, it is so true.
Absolutely hoped for, while I worked, but never assumed to survive all the shoppers. Everything was at such low prices. Tells you something about the financial times when re-model product isn't scooped up at yard sale prices. Also, the tile was all I really looked at but her son had said he was taking it.
The fan is small, with a light and I haven't seen one this small at any price, so I was pleased.
The mail box, I have longed for these past five years. They are metal and ornate and free standing so my mail people don't have to climb my stairs to deliver. Way out of my budget, till now.
Just needs to be re-assembled and painted.
I intend to sink it into a five gallon empty paint bucket of cement. Then when it is set, the bucket comes off and the thing stands by itself, at the bottom of the steps. Think I should paint it black like the railing?
The tile is the real miracle.
Back in 2008, my bathroom floor almost fell through. The wood floor was so old and water damaged, over the decades. That plumbing and structural repair was big money for me to pull off.
The cosmetic parts have waited for funding, till now.
A friend who is coming to help install the tile told me that the cutter is worth so much, people usually have to rent them. She kept repeating that now I, "own", one.
Dorothy wanted me to accept some kind of payment but she actually gifted me in the things I long for.
Made my actions less like Charity for her.
Those generous gifts were Christmas early this year for me. I would have worked for these things if the offer had been made. All in all, this exchange between strangers has been perfect.
I would imagine they are still there now, getting what they can in spite of the locked doors.
Dorothy told me they intended to work all night, last night.
She said she would rather stay till Tuesday but she wasn't sure what the Bank would require of her.
Tough spot to be in, no matter any judgements you may contemplate silently, to yourself.
I have seen this before.
I have no opinion except perhaps the pity that wells up from time to time.
People are at risk of being controlled, simply by design flaws.
When, "things", are controlling us, it can take us apart in such deep places.
Why speak about it, why not do something about it?
I found an opportunity to act and I stepped up.
This post is partly about that concept but though the obvious is here before you,
I do hope to raise the other issue.
I shared with you the plan each gift Dorothy gave to me, has waiting for it.
She may have made those plans, too. The difference is that I will actually install these items.
They will not be stored, they will be used.
Hoarders collect to feel power in the world they perceive to be ,"their", world.
A habit of saying ,"yes", to themselves.
The habit reinvents the hoarders' personal landscape.
It does not create a positive outcome.
The hoarder is compelled to provide more, becoming reclusive with these things, out of shame over the resulting visual effects, of these habits.
I try to remind hoarders that by giving this stuff up to yard sale profits, they are helping so many people have a better quality of life.
They are improving the quality of their own lives by clearing and cleaning,
but also the sharing and the generosity toward yard sale buyers.
Positive energy on a very large scale.
We probably had two hundred people, just on Saturday.
There is one more issue here, to speak of.
Around 2:00 on Sunday, Dorothy told me that she needed $700.00 to drive that big truck,
all the way to Pennsylvania.
We were losing light from the threat of rain and the shoppers were slowing, holding cold hands in pockets. Not a promise of sales, I can tell you.
I started to tell people the truest point of this yard sale, more often.
That the homeowner needed at least $500.00 more, to get the truck to it's destination.
People are so good at heart.
We all know hard times and when the day was closing, Dorothy came to me to say that the last people had put something in her pocket, instructing her not to look till they were gone.
She told me that all day long,
she had been able to fight back tears, but that this kindness had finally made her cry.
The woman had slipped $200.00, in cash, into Dorothy's coat pocket.
The kindness of strangers.......
This experience pulled so many people together, and on so many levels.
All the laughter and appreciation that Saturday sounded like.
All the kindness and generosity from people only walking by for Sunday strolls.
All the united effort made by the family of this woman.
And the effort made by me, a stranger in her life, who knows the kindness of strangers.
I am someone who understands how that kind of generosity has made it possible for me to survive in this world, this country, this town.
Just "Paying It Forward".
Stepping up is worth it.
It is.
Always.
The simple phrase, "When preparation meets opportunity.....", keeps silently ringing in my ears.
I am not really sure how these things present themselves to me.
I just know that I was truly compelled to do it.
Just as I am compelled to tell you how this went down,
here,
now.
It all really began last weekend, when I gave myself just one yard sale to wander. Tight budget but we have to give ourselves fun, no matter how small the gesture.
I had a ten dollar bill and so that was my limit.
I looked around, as I stepped through the beautiful white wooden gate. The ancient, stone walkway was lined with a collection of kitchen cabinets that were to be installed, but that were now being re-sold.
The bank is taking the house.
She has to be done by today, Monday, at 9:30 a.m., because that is when they are coming to lock the place up.
Beyond the collection I could see piles of dusty treasures that someone just piled there.
Hoping to see people do the searching, for the home owner, the home owner was not getting enough in return for all this effort.
It was a train wreck and I just couldn't look away.
Last weekend I gave her that ten dollars for a beautiful pedestal sink.
It has a spot waiting by the hose out back. If you enjoy out door garden hobbies,
you need a sink out there.
At least, that was the first five.
The second paid for a rain shower head with sturdy hose and spray attachment.
I switched the spray attachment for the one I had before and replaced the three threaded connector that connects it all to the wall and each other. Wanted one similar to this for a very long time.
Wasn't a budget for it.
I promised myself to return to her to be useful. It looked like she was a little overdue for a random act of kindness.
I stopped by on Thursday, after I had done two clients.
I told her that I was just finishing my day and was passing here on my way home. I was tired and wondered how this tired person was doing. She smiled.
I told her I couldn't stay then but that I was coming Saturday morning, around 9 or 10, to work.
She looked at me almost from a stink eye but I told her I had no other motives than to be useful where needed. She smiled again and we agreed to see each other Saturday.
Fast forward to the day before yesterday.
When I arrived, she looked at me unsure.
I just told her I was there, "Paying It Forward".
I spent the whole day brushing and arranging and erecting, the yard sale , "departments".
Yard sale wandering people watched and roamed as I worked the stuff. The home owner and her family just kept bringing out things from the piles filling every space, every building on this property.
Hoarding.
I just kept selling and getting twenty dollar bills to the home owner. Soon she got a grin and worked better.
It takes so much out of a hoarder just to face each day living like that.
When the time comes to let go, the build up has grown into something bigger. The days have shaped and re-shaped the home owners' opinion of herself.
This was a Hoarder and I could see the pain of loss in her eyes. So tired she was finally able to part with things, but the original price always had to be discussed. One way to deal but not really productive.
I just kept reminding her that this is a yard sale. That this information doesn't necessarily apply here.
I told her I was proud of her and that this was almost over. She is close to the deadline and she will be walking away.
She admitted to me that now she could die.
She just turned to me and nonchalantly said,
"Now I can die."
She said that she didn't want her family to have to do this, after.
I could tell it was a comfort to her to have them there to help, now.
It's really a family thing.
I just know where my energy can help sometimes and here I was.
All the forward motion we all were creating in this woman's life and with every step she seemed to find a way to beat herself up over how it ever got this way. Unproductive.
Her brother was sitting on the porch at one point late the first day. He spoke loudly and said, "My sister is a hoarder"! Unnecessary harshness.
I shouted back, "Do I know her?"
Hoarders don't sell and give away and work through the junk.
This woman was being a warrior, not complaining very much, staying busy between moments of panic, and I was proud of her.
The day lead me as I created a place to work and sell. I forgot eating lunch but Dorothy gave me a big bowl of chicken chile. She had doctored up a can of Denison's chile and it was very good.
Just what I needed to work the rest of the afternoon productively.
I made my way home by 5:00.
Tired, grungy, proud of my day.
There is something to be said for, paying it forward.
After all that positive effort, I didn't have it in me to throw in with the, "Beat-up Dorothy Club.
That can be a family thing, too.
Sunday had a different flow.
Dorothy was more grounded, considering, and she had real information about the financial reality of renting a big truck and moving herself and her home to Pennsylvania from Nevada.
By about noon, she told me that the yard sale paid for the truck and enough gas to drive to Texas.
We were doing it and she knew it.
She would be looking stronger, then start getting that panic back. I would find her sitting,
bewildered and fretful.
Grand sons, three and five, kept her distracted with love and imagination for Gramma's toys.
Didn't cause much harm because we were in the home stretch now.
Her son and brother were rushing through, getting the truck loaded before dark.
Her precious things were so processed now that she could only hope she had saved enough to satisfy,
when she got to her new home.
Then she turned to me.
She wanted to know if I would like to return after she left, to scavenge.
I admitted that I had had a dream the night before where a woman had continued to shout at me, "But What Do You Want?!?"
She looked at me and said, "Do you mean like this? What Do You WANT?"!
Oh my goodness, that was the look on the woman's face and the sound of her voice!
We just laughed and I said, "Okay, I will tell you what could be useful to me and what I have no budget for".
You got it, she was wonderfully generous with me and she gave me 12 boxes of stone tile and a tile cutter. Also a small ceiling fan, a free standing mailbox and white baseboard to put in my living room. I think there will be enough tile to do the bathroom and perhaps a back splash behind the stove.
All a gift and treasured, it is so true.
Absolutely hoped for, while I worked, but never assumed to survive all the shoppers. Everything was at such low prices. Tells you something about the financial times when re-model product isn't scooped up at yard sale prices. Also, the tile was all I really looked at but her son had said he was taking it.
The fan is small, with a light and I haven't seen one this small at any price, so I was pleased.
The mail box, I have longed for these past five years. They are metal and ornate and free standing so my mail people don't have to climb my stairs to deliver. Way out of my budget, till now.
Just needs to be re-assembled and painted.
I intend to sink it into a five gallon empty paint bucket of cement. Then when it is set, the bucket comes off and the thing stands by itself, at the bottom of the steps. Think I should paint it black like the railing?
The tile is the real miracle.
Back in 2008, my bathroom floor almost fell through. The wood floor was so old and water damaged, over the decades. That plumbing and structural repair was big money for me to pull off.
The cosmetic parts have waited for funding, till now.
A friend who is coming to help install the tile told me that the cutter is worth so much, people usually have to rent them. She kept repeating that now I, "own", one.
Dorothy wanted me to accept some kind of payment but she actually gifted me in the things I long for.
Made my actions less like Charity for her.
Those generous gifts were Christmas early this year for me. I would have worked for these things if the offer had been made. All in all, this exchange between strangers has been perfect.
I would imagine they are still there now, getting what they can in spite of the locked doors.
Dorothy told me they intended to work all night, last night.
She said she would rather stay till Tuesday but she wasn't sure what the Bank would require of her.
Tough spot to be in, no matter any judgements you may contemplate silently, to yourself.
I have seen this before.
I have no opinion except perhaps the pity that wells up from time to time.
People are at risk of being controlled, simply by design flaws.
When, "things", are controlling us, it can take us apart in such deep places.
Why speak about it, why not do something about it?
I found an opportunity to act and I stepped up.
This post is partly about that concept but though the obvious is here before you,
I do hope to raise the other issue.
I shared with you the plan each gift Dorothy gave to me, has waiting for it.
She may have made those plans, too. The difference is that I will actually install these items.
They will not be stored, they will be used.
Hoarders collect to feel power in the world they perceive to be ,"their", world.
A habit of saying ,"yes", to themselves.
The habit reinvents the hoarders' personal landscape.
It does not create a positive outcome.
The hoarder is compelled to provide more, becoming reclusive with these things, out of shame over the resulting visual effects, of these habits.
I try to remind hoarders that by giving this stuff up to yard sale profits, they are helping so many people have a better quality of life.
They are improving the quality of their own lives by clearing and cleaning,
but also the sharing and the generosity toward yard sale buyers.
Positive energy on a very large scale.
We probably had two hundred people, just on Saturday.
There is one more issue here, to speak of.
Around 2:00 on Sunday, Dorothy told me that she needed $700.00 to drive that big truck,
all the way to Pennsylvania.
We were losing light from the threat of rain and the shoppers were slowing, holding cold hands in pockets. Not a promise of sales, I can tell you.
I started to tell people the truest point of this yard sale, more often.
That the homeowner needed at least $500.00 more, to get the truck to it's destination.
People are so good at heart.
We all know hard times and when the day was closing, Dorothy came to me to say that the last people had put something in her pocket, instructing her not to look till they were gone.
She told me that all day long,
she had been able to fight back tears, but that this kindness had finally made her cry.
The woman had slipped $200.00, in cash, into Dorothy's coat pocket.
The kindness of strangers.......
This experience pulled so many people together, and on so many levels.
All the laughter and appreciation that Saturday sounded like.
All the kindness and generosity from people only walking by for Sunday strolls.
All the united effort made by the family of this woman.
And the effort made by me, a stranger in her life, who knows the kindness of strangers.
I am someone who understands how that kind of generosity has made it possible for me to survive in this world, this country, this town.
Just "Paying It Forward".
Stepping up is worth it.
It is.
Always.
Thursday, November 10, 2011
I Matter
One small voice in the world today.
One small place to share my loving ways.
Some might say it doesn't matter anyway,
but I do.
I do.
This old place seems too small for some.
Times I fret about what I haven't done.
Could be I am in the past today.
Leaves me hoping for the words to say.
Memories I have are just songs to sing.
Regrets don't fit in the grander scheme of things.
Better let my feelings ring to the other side.
Better try not to hide.
One small voice in the world today.
One small place to share my loving ways.
Some might say it doesn't matter anyway,
but I do.
I do.
Raised my boy here.
He makes me proud.
Shared it with my daughter and her contagious crowd.
Left my husband standing in the dust.
Found my strength in what I didn't trust.
I am one small voice in the world today.
One small place to share my bravest ways.
Some might say it doesn't matter anyway,
but I do.
I do.
Yes, I am one small voice in the world today.
I am one small voice in the world today.
I am one small voice and I matter.
I matter.
I matter.
Nancy McEldowney
11/9/11
One small place to share my loving ways.
Some might say it doesn't matter anyway,
but I do.
I do.
This old place seems too small for some.
Times I fret about what I haven't done.
Could be I am in the past today.
Leaves me hoping for the words to say.
Memories I have are just songs to sing.
Regrets don't fit in the grander scheme of things.
Better let my feelings ring to the other side.
Better try not to hide.
One small voice in the world today.
One small place to share my loving ways.
Some might say it doesn't matter anyway,
but I do.
I do.
Raised my boy here.
He makes me proud.
Shared it with my daughter and her contagious crowd.
Left my husband standing in the dust.
Found my strength in what I didn't trust.
I am one small voice in the world today.
One small place to share my bravest ways.
Some might say it doesn't matter anyway,
but I do.
I do.
Yes, I am one small voice in the world today.
I am one small voice in the world today.
I am one small voice and I matter.
I matter.
I matter.
Nancy McEldowney
11/9/11
Grumbles Not-Withstanding.....
Good morning good people.
I am back to share and I am hoping your days have been light and filled with joy.
I say this as I am reflecting on my day yesterday.
In observation of those around me, I couldn't help but hear the angst in the voices while we all made our way through, "the days before the full moon".
In my life, I have tried to respect the pressure we all feel as the moon cycles through our skies. It does not matter to me if you believe what I believe. It only matters that I respect this life and all it's ups and downs.
I am not referring to some spiritual experience here.
No, this is about Barometric pressure and what the planets can do to each other,
as they live the lives they live, in our Universe.
We are affected daily whether we respect that knowledge, or not.
The days before the full moon can resonate physically but most people, in my experience, do not understand why they are feeling a little off.
They only know that it feels harsh or achey or grumbley.
Many times in my years practicing my arts, I accommodate my elders more gently as the moon cycles.
They do not understand why I know they are hurting but are always grateful for my careful attitude.
Accidents, falls and rises in blood pressure are more common during the days leading up to a Full Moon.
I only smile and say, "If a butterfly's wings flapping can cause waves in the ocean, how far off are we to understand that the moon moving along in the sky can cause swelling and dizzy moments in our days?"
"We are all made up of so much water, surely the moon can affect us, on some levels."
They smile and we help where we can.
Enter the two men who stood on either side of me, at the Post Office.
We all waited our turn in line.
Both were easily guessed to be in their eighties.
Both were talking too loud for such an echo chamber of an office.
Both were complaining and almost shouting and really not making much sense to any of us who were sharing that space with them.
As is usually the case, I found someone speaking to me as if I knew him.
The first man just turned to me and loudly began to rant about the Government and how three employees working at one time was a real surprise.
He did not sound grateful, just ready to find an ear to listen to his complaints.
I calmly reminded him that this was not the Government but that is was a business.
The look on his face told me that he knew that.
I did not wish to engage more ranting but he was not done yet.
He then said,"Well, what do you do for work?"
I quietly told him that I took care of people his age, in this town.
This stumped him for a second but he asked me again and I could hear his voice echo so I spoke quieter and looked as calm as I could while I explained that I took care of people his age for a living.
Two a day, five days a week and I was not in the mood to stand there and listen to him grumble.
The look of confusion on his face told me that he was not spoken to, in this way, very often.
He just looked into my eyes and quietly said,".....five days a week?"
I said yes, and he tried to rant again, though quieter, about how the Post Office was considering closing on Saturdays and what did I think of that.
Again, I told him that I was not in the mood to listen to his grumbles and that all I could say was that everything is going to be okay.
I repeated, "Everything is going to be okay."
The puffing slowed and his confusion calmed as he realized he had just been handled by a very kind person who had no intention of listening to his probable habit of ranting in public.
The three women in front of us smiled quiet smiles as we all continued to move along in the lunch-time line that can often build and move along, here in our little Post Office.
The woman with the children was just getting her two year old to sleep on her shoulder as she spoke quietly to her four year old about standing close and not jumping up by the counter until it was her turn. The little one knew she had a sticker coming and was impatient but polite. Well done mom!
Then, another older gentleman came in and was on his cell phone, shouting into the thing like he was somewhere alone. His words were not G-rated and the mom soon enough had a two year old awake and fussing while the elder gentleman continued to curse about where something would just as easily be put where his sun doesn't shine. Really.
Yes, he was standing right behind me but I did not engage him.
The women and I exchanged round eyes as we all hoped this man would realize his voice was echoing through the room.
The first man who had finished his rant in front of us now seemed to understand that the ranting wasn't pleasing and he calmed himself, even more.
No one was made stronger by these two men.
The woman who was about to work with the first man who complained about her abilities could see that he was about to be her next client. It was obvious that she was made nervous by the thought.
Then the line caused me to be her next client and she was so gracious to me, she even took my hand and spoke so kind I knew she was telling me thank you for my effort in defense of the postal employees working as fast as they could, during the noon time rush.
Somehow, it all diffused and everything seemed to go very well for all of us.
Somehow, the quiet tones were more productive than the loud, disrespectful rantings.
Somehow, the whole thing drifted into memory as we all made our way to the Postal Employees who were just at work that day, trying to keep an income to afford the lives they fight for.
Somehow, I was glad I do what I do for a living because I understood that neither of these men meant anyone any harm.
I understood that they were used to being tolerated.
They were, both, only being themselves, in the world that they perceived was all that they have to work with.
I heard the man who felt he should be allowed to rant.
I calmly told him it was unacceptable, without insulting him.
The other man was disrespectful of all of us, especially the woman with small children who were treated to the education of his very colorful words.
No harm done but, have you been put in this situation?
If you have, it was awkward and you did the best you could, even if you ended up joining the rant.
I am sharing today because I feel this is another moment when we must remind ourselves that life is never what it "looks" like.
I truly believe that it is always better to remember we are all of us fighting something, on some level.
We should not turn on each other.
Calm is more productive.
Anger is contagious but calm is, too.
Anger gets the heart pumping but calm heals the heart and allows for the grins.
Here's to those grins, good people.
Be well on this beautiful day of a Full Moon.
I am back to share and I am hoping your days have been light and filled with joy.
I say this as I am reflecting on my day yesterday.
In observation of those around me, I couldn't help but hear the angst in the voices while we all made our way through, "the days before the full moon".
In my life, I have tried to respect the pressure we all feel as the moon cycles through our skies. It does not matter to me if you believe what I believe. It only matters that I respect this life and all it's ups and downs.
I am not referring to some spiritual experience here.
No, this is about Barometric pressure and what the planets can do to each other,
as they live the lives they live, in our Universe.
We are affected daily whether we respect that knowledge, or not.
The days before the full moon can resonate physically but most people, in my experience, do not understand why they are feeling a little off.
They only know that it feels harsh or achey or grumbley.
Many times in my years practicing my arts, I accommodate my elders more gently as the moon cycles.
They do not understand why I know they are hurting but are always grateful for my careful attitude.
Accidents, falls and rises in blood pressure are more common during the days leading up to a Full Moon.
I only smile and say, "If a butterfly's wings flapping can cause waves in the ocean, how far off are we to understand that the moon moving along in the sky can cause swelling and dizzy moments in our days?"
"We are all made up of so much water, surely the moon can affect us, on some levels."
They smile and we help where we can.
Enter the two men who stood on either side of me, at the Post Office.
We all waited our turn in line.
Both were easily guessed to be in their eighties.
Both were talking too loud for such an echo chamber of an office.
Both were complaining and almost shouting and really not making much sense to any of us who were sharing that space with them.
As is usually the case, I found someone speaking to me as if I knew him.
The first man just turned to me and loudly began to rant about the Government and how three employees working at one time was a real surprise.
He did not sound grateful, just ready to find an ear to listen to his complaints.
I calmly reminded him that this was not the Government but that is was a business.
The look on his face told me that he knew that.
I did not wish to engage more ranting but he was not done yet.
He then said,"Well, what do you do for work?"
I quietly told him that I took care of people his age, in this town.
This stumped him for a second but he asked me again and I could hear his voice echo so I spoke quieter and looked as calm as I could while I explained that I took care of people his age for a living.
Two a day, five days a week and I was not in the mood to stand there and listen to him grumble.
The look of confusion on his face told me that he was not spoken to, in this way, very often.
He just looked into my eyes and quietly said,".....five days a week?"
I said yes, and he tried to rant again, though quieter, about how the Post Office was considering closing on Saturdays and what did I think of that.
Again, I told him that I was not in the mood to listen to his grumbles and that all I could say was that everything is going to be okay.
I repeated, "Everything is going to be okay."
The puffing slowed and his confusion calmed as he realized he had just been handled by a very kind person who had no intention of listening to his probable habit of ranting in public.
The three women in front of us smiled quiet smiles as we all continued to move along in the lunch-time line that can often build and move along, here in our little Post Office.
The woman with the children was just getting her two year old to sleep on her shoulder as she spoke quietly to her four year old about standing close and not jumping up by the counter until it was her turn. The little one knew she had a sticker coming and was impatient but polite. Well done mom!
Then, another older gentleman came in and was on his cell phone, shouting into the thing like he was somewhere alone. His words were not G-rated and the mom soon enough had a two year old awake and fussing while the elder gentleman continued to curse about where something would just as easily be put where his sun doesn't shine. Really.
Yes, he was standing right behind me but I did not engage him.
The women and I exchanged round eyes as we all hoped this man would realize his voice was echoing through the room.
The first man who had finished his rant in front of us now seemed to understand that the ranting wasn't pleasing and he calmed himself, even more.
No one was made stronger by these two men.
The woman who was about to work with the first man who complained about her abilities could see that he was about to be her next client. It was obvious that she was made nervous by the thought.
Then the line caused me to be her next client and she was so gracious to me, she even took my hand and spoke so kind I knew she was telling me thank you for my effort in defense of the postal employees working as fast as they could, during the noon time rush.
Somehow, it all diffused and everything seemed to go very well for all of us.
Somehow, the quiet tones were more productive than the loud, disrespectful rantings.
Somehow, the whole thing drifted into memory as we all made our way to the Postal Employees who were just at work that day, trying to keep an income to afford the lives they fight for.
Somehow, I was glad I do what I do for a living because I understood that neither of these men meant anyone any harm.
I understood that they were used to being tolerated.
They were, both, only being themselves, in the world that they perceived was all that they have to work with.
I heard the man who felt he should be allowed to rant.
I calmly told him it was unacceptable, without insulting him.
The other man was disrespectful of all of us, especially the woman with small children who were treated to the education of his very colorful words.
No harm done but, have you been put in this situation?
If you have, it was awkward and you did the best you could, even if you ended up joining the rant.
I am sharing today because I feel this is another moment when we must remind ourselves that life is never what it "looks" like.
I truly believe that it is always better to remember we are all of us fighting something, on some level.
We should not turn on each other.
Calm is more productive.
Anger is contagious but calm is, too.
Anger gets the heart pumping but calm heals the heart and allows for the grins.
Here's to those grins, good people.
Be well on this beautiful day of a Full Moon.
Monday, October 3, 2011
Oh Yeah
It's all about what holds you together, you know?
And I think it's about letting go.
Keep track of what makes you feel strong,
and don't let those weak moments grow.
I'm just a kid,
when I don't think too much.
Just a child,
learning about boundaries and such.
But I'm somebody's mom,
when you stand up and look real close.
Creating comforts, joining journeys,
being responsible for this life I chose.
Oh yeah,
it's all about what holds you together.
You have to stop and think before you let go.
Keep track and make it all make you strong.
Pay attention and don't let those weak moments grow.
After all is said and done,
I was somebody's wife, too.
He may not remember but maybe he does.
Sometimes, I get lonely and bored and lost in all this.
But somewhere in me,
I'm still the girl that I was.
Every bit of this is what holds me together.
Even when I feel like I'm letting go.
Even when I'm weak,
I'm getting stronger.
And most of all,
when you're not looking,
I'm still gonna grow.
Nancy McEldowney
January 16, 2000
And I think it's about letting go.
Keep track of what makes you feel strong,
and don't let those weak moments grow.
I'm just a kid,
when I don't think too much.
Just a child,
learning about boundaries and such.
But I'm somebody's mom,
when you stand up and look real close.
Creating comforts, joining journeys,
being responsible for this life I chose.
Oh yeah,
it's all about what holds you together.
You have to stop and think before you let go.
Keep track and make it all make you strong.
Pay attention and don't let those weak moments grow.
After all is said and done,
I was somebody's wife, too.
He may not remember but maybe he does.
Sometimes, I get lonely and bored and lost in all this.
But somewhere in me,
I'm still the girl that I was.
Every bit of this is what holds me together.
Even when I feel like I'm letting go.
Even when I'm weak,
I'm getting stronger.
And most of all,
when you're not looking,
I'm still gonna grow.
Nancy McEldowney
January 16, 2000
Wisdom In The Weekend Wind
It was the weekend that left it's grin on my heart.
Here in my small town life,the Art In The Park festival arrives the first days of October,every year.
We are the Vintage oasis outside of Las Vegas, NV.
It is very common to greet my first festival morning with a few thousand people walking and chatting and enjoying this little world that I hold so dear.
Yes, some of my neighbors are unsettled by the influx of influence from the community just over the hill.
We are quiet, they are full of loud, constant movement.
I do not concern myself over these things.
I have lived in this little cottage for 11 years and it is still fun for me.
The days before all the noise arrives, I spend my time cleaning up my front porch. Then I carefully place my collection of pumpkins and silk leaves around the door and the wooden chair so the community of Artists and visitors that arrive can find inspiration, as they walk by.
The festival always brings the musicians out of the private cocoons we create to survive the triple digit heat of desert summers here,too.
Perhaps it was a humid weekend but it was still wonderful.
I sat with friends in the sound booth most of the second day and it was a way for lost friends and acquaintences to find me and hug me and tell me how life has been since last year.
Today, the tents are gone and the traffic is quieted by the promise of the new week and it's intentions and responsibilities.
Fall temperatures will arrive by the end of the week, but we were a force of Nature, weren't we. We were all good for something more than we are, in our day to day, and I am forever grateful for finding this little desert island. The joy in the weekend far out-ways the cost of living in a small town, with it's limited ability to provide the supplies and services and variety some larger communities can provide.
Still, in the midst of the calamity and confusion, the grins and giggles, the munching and buying, buying, buying, I found someone asking me for advice about how she should feel, now that she has helped her mother meet end of days.
They find me and I listen. If I can be of service, we are more.
It had been a hard road. It often is.
She said that her mother exhibited a form of dementia but that it was not recognized and so she was sometimes feeling like her care wasn't enough. Can you imagine this daughter's heart?
You might be surprised at how often I find a child's perception expressed by an adult who has been there for the end of days.
We question the time we had with the parent who has departed.
We are forever children in this way, I think.
As I listened to this woman who was a stranger to me, I attempted to find those places in her story that I could help her recognize her strength and love for her mother. This same strength and love is what her mother saw and felt, in spite of the seemingly endless hopes for her daughters "better life".
Parents do that and it is our belief that this is a gift that we give to our children.
The gift that we graciously gave to ourselves was our children.
Why don't we understand and make the effort to release our children from this pressure to be more, before we leave them and go on to the next spirit activity that death can release us to?
I believe it is because we don't always realize what our hopes become after years and years of expressing them to our sweet, sweet daughters and sons.
Made me go home and love my son. Called my daughter, too.
The beautiful part that stays with me is when she told me how she could see it all working.
She said that she had lost her job and was frightened about how she would get another one. Two months after this loss of daily employment, she found her mother needing her to move in as a caregiver. If she had been employed, the required caregiver would have been a stranger who required payment. Even the budget to pay a professional was a concern but most of the pressure for the three children was to provide the loving understanding that their beautiful mother deserved. These were children who came from an Italian home and the love was never lacking in their lives. Now it was their turn to care for their mother and this woman's siblings had children of their own, to be responsible to.
The woman who shared this story with me did not have children and though her mother had always shared her hopes for more grandchildren and what she perceived as her daughters chance for true joy, now it was clear which daughter would have the life that accommodated the responsible care that their mother needed.
That understanding touches my heart.
If you are still reading, I think it touches yours, too.
Often people express a story of regret. It does not serve us to do that.
It does not celebrate the life that ended if we only consider what we did not do, while we had the time to.
It only re-enforces the feeling of loss.
Be kind to yourself.
Remember it was the mere fact that you lived, that pleases us as parents.
In the end, you were the joy to behold and if you can be with us to greet our end of days, we are blessed.
We feel we were blessed to be there as you greeted the beginnings of your days.
Time with you is all that we really hope for.
Too soon, we understand that we are on to the next thing.
We eventually understand that we will no longer have a physical to hug you with.
Though this woman's mother offered her grumpies and complaints, all that she really asked was to be heard by someone who truly loved her. This daughter made her mother feel safe and I attempted to help her understand that fact.
In the end we hugged long and those tears looked like tears of relief to me.
I was blessed to be in service to this woman on her very private but somehow shared path.
I told her to look around at all the people who wandered the festival.
I tried to help her see that in each of us is a very private, very personal, most often silent little war that we battle.
If we remind ourselves that every person we interact with is fighting some personal war with themselves, perhaps we can remember to be kind.
To remember to respect this really does serve us well.
If you are open and you are able to keep your heart open, you will find those places that you are needed. I hope that you respond with a loving ability to be more than you realize you are. The world needs you and your knowledge is quite useful to others.
Believe it.
Live it.
Maintain the miracle and make the world a better place, just by being here.
Always.
Nancy McEldowney
Here in my small town life,the Art In The Park festival arrives the first days of October,every year.
We are the Vintage oasis outside of Las Vegas, NV.
It is very common to greet my first festival morning with a few thousand people walking and chatting and enjoying this little world that I hold so dear.
Yes, some of my neighbors are unsettled by the influx of influence from the community just over the hill.
We are quiet, they are full of loud, constant movement.
I do not concern myself over these things.
I have lived in this little cottage for 11 years and it is still fun for me.
The days before all the noise arrives, I spend my time cleaning up my front porch. Then I carefully place my collection of pumpkins and silk leaves around the door and the wooden chair so the community of Artists and visitors that arrive can find inspiration, as they walk by.
The festival always brings the musicians out of the private cocoons we create to survive the triple digit heat of desert summers here,too.
Perhaps it was a humid weekend but it was still wonderful.
I sat with friends in the sound booth most of the second day and it was a way for lost friends and acquaintences to find me and hug me and tell me how life has been since last year.
Today, the tents are gone and the traffic is quieted by the promise of the new week and it's intentions and responsibilities.
Fall temperatures will arrive by the end of the week, but we were a force of Nature, weren't we. We were all good for something more than we are, in our day to day, and I am forever grateful for finding this little desert island. The joy in the weekend far out-ways the cost of living in a small town, with it's limited ability to provide the supplies and services and variety some larger communities can provide.
Still, in the midst of the calamity and confusion, the grins and giggles, the munching and buying, buying, buying, I found someone asking me for advice about how she should feel, now that she has helped her mother meet end of days.
They find me and I listen. If I can be of service, we are more.
It had been a hard road. It often is.
She said that her mother exhibited a form of dementia but that it was not recognized and so she was sometimes feeling like her care wasn't enough. Can you imagine this daughter's heart?
You might be surprised at how often I find a child's perception expressed by an adult who has been there for the end of days.
We question the time we had with the parent who has departed.
We are forever children in this way, I think.
As I listened to this woman who was a stranger to me, I attempted to find those places in her story that I could help her recognize her strength and love for her mother. This same strength and love is what her mother saw and felt, in spite of the seemingly endless hopes for her daughters "better life".
Parents do that and it is our belief that this is a gift that we give to our children.
The gift that we graciously gave to ourselves was our children.
Why don't we understand and make the effort to release our children from this pressure to be more, before we leave them and go on to the next spirit activity that death can release us to?
I believe it is because we don't always realize what our hopes become after years and years of expressing them to our sweet, sweet daughters and sons.
Made me go home and love my son. Called my daughter, too.
The beautiful part that stays with me is when she told me how she could see it all working.
She said that she had lost her job and was frightened about how she would get another one. Two months after this loss of daily employment, she found her mother needing her to move in as a caregiver. If she had been employed, the required caregiver would have been a stranger who required payment. Even the budget to pay a professional was a concern but most of the pressure for the three children was to provide the loving understanding that their beautiful mother deserved. These were children who came from an Italian home and the love was never lacking in their lives. Now it was their turn to care for their mother and this woman's siblings had children of their own, to be responsible to.
The woman who shared this story with me did not have children and though her mother had always shared her hopes for more grandchildren and what she perceived as her daughters chance for true joy, now it was clear which daughter would have the life that accommodated the responsible care that their mother needed.
That understanding touches my heart.
If you are still reading, I think it touches yours, too.
Often people express a story of regret. It does not serve us to do that.
It does not celebrate the life that ended if we only consider what we did not do, while we had the time to.
It only re-enforces the feeling of loss.
Be kind to yourself.
Remember it was the mere fact that you lived, that pleases us as parents.
In the end, you were the joy to behold and if you can be with us to greet our end of days, we are blessed.
We feel we were blessed to be there as you greeted the beginnings of your days.
Time with you is all that we really hope for.
Too soon, we understand that we are on to the next thing.
We eventually understand that we will no longer have a physical to hug you with.
Though this woman's mother offered her grumpies and complaints, all that she really asked was to be heard by someone who truly loved her. This daughter made her mother feel safe and I attempted to help her understand that fact.
In the end we hugged long and those tears looked like tears of relief to me.
I was blessed to be in service to this woman on her very private but somehow shared path.
I told her to look around at all the people who wandered the festival.
I tried to help her see that in each of us is a very private, very personal, most often silent little war that we battle.
If we remind ourselves that every person we interact with is fighting some personal war with themselves, perhaps we can remember to be kind.
To remember to respect this really does serve us well.
If you are open and you are able to keep your heart open, you will find those places that you are needed. I hope that you respond with a loving ability to be more than you realize you are. The world needs you and your knowledge is quite useful to others.
Believe it.
Live it.
Maintain the miracle and make the world a better place, just by being here.
Always.
Nancy McEldowney
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Darkness Illuminates The Light
Just as notes become songs, hours will become days.
Simple thought but still,
lifetimes resonate from our habits and ways.
Memories will allow for kindnesses.
Joys measured evenly in the tones of my rhymes.
Goodness and light are mine.
Yes, goodness and light are mine.
Just as moments become hours,
words will always bring understandings.
Perhaps unpredictable outcomes but still,
call it what you will.
It is life and we are the lucky ones.
We are the children of the sun.
Goodness and light are mine.
Yes, goodness and light are mine.
The darkness illuminates the light.
It won't matter if I am wrong or if I am right.
You can find the peace, in the darkness of your night.
Yes, I believe that all the darkness
illuminates the light.
Claim all the goodness and light.
Yes, we are always more,
when we see the goodness and the light.
Nancy McEldowney
September 15, 2011
Simple thought but still,
lifetimes resonate from our habits and ways.
Memories will allow for kindnesses.
Joys measured evenly in the tones of my rhymes.
Goodness and light are mine.
Yes, goodness and light are mine.
Just as moments become hours,
words will always bring understandings.
Perhaps unpredictable outcomes but still,
call it what you will.
It is life and we are the lucky ones.
We are the children of the sun.
Goodness and light are mine.
Yes, goodness and light are mine.
The darkness illuminates the light.
It won't matter if I am wrong or if I am right.
You can find the peace, in the darkness of your night.
Yes, I believe that all the darkness
illuminates the light.
Claim all the goodness and light.
Yes, we are always more,
when we see the goodness and the light.
Nancy McEldowney
September 15, 2011
Another Day In Boulder City
Good morning and cheers to Blogger.com for the face lift.
It is a wonderful fall day in my neighborhood.
I am hoping your day is as calm as mine has been, so far.
I must admit I am fresh from a four day camping trip in Northern Arizona. Just beautiful.
If I can figure it out, I will share photos.
For now, I am getting used to a new desk which requires a new filing system. Thought I would take a break here and share some of these gems a friend and client sent to me today.
Yes, it was an e-mail that if I had sent it on to my friends, the forward button would have allowed someone access to even more e-mail addresses than they might have gleaned from the original posting.
Forgive me.
That was a snippet of a soap box I get on from time to time. Just fight that urge to simply forward those emails. Copy and paste so the addresses don't remain for scoundrels to pick up for spam ads. Enough said.
Okay so here are a few of my favorites.
Trust me, I was so very honored to get this. Even more honored to share with you here.
A Birth Certificate shows you were born.
A Death Certificate shows you have died.
A photo album shows you have lived.
Things to remember along the way:
Be kinder than necessary because everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle.
If you want your dreams to come true, you mustn't oversleep.
Of all the things you wear, your expression is the most important.
The happiness of your life depends on the quality of your thoughts.
One thing you can give and still keep.......is your word.
The heaviest thing you can carry is a grudge.
You lie the loudest when you lie to yourself.
Ideas won't work unless you do.
One thing you can't recycle is wasted time.
It is never too late to become what you might have been.
Life is too short to wake up with regrets.....
so love the people who treat you right... forget about the ones who don't.
Believe everything happens for a reason.
If you get a second chance, grab it with both hands. If it changes your life, let it.
Nobody said life would be easy, they just promised it would be worth it.
And lastly, my favorite for today.......
Your mind is like a parachute.....it functions only when it is open.
Though I am not relating stories of clients this morning, I am hoping you are enjoying some of the fruits good friends offer us.
As I said, I am fresh from a camping trip with a friend who slept the day away, every day.
That is exactly what the trip was for, rest.
I have to admit, the cool temperatures and post rainy air around that campfire kept finding me asleep in my chair, too.
I am looking forward to the changing season.
I am looking ahead to new choices, better attitudes, brighter smiles.
I am hoping for your good health and much deserved happiness.
Let's all of us make some magic today, shall we?
Always, Nancy McEldowney
It is a wonderful fall day in my neighborhood.
I am hoping your day is as calm as mine has been, so far.
I must admit I am fresh from a four day camping trip in Northern Arizona. Just beautiful.
If I can figure it out, I will share photos.
For now, I am getting used to a new desk which requires a new filing system. Thought I would take a break here and share some of these gems a friend and client sent to me today.
Yes, it was an e-mail that if I had sent it on to my friends, the forward button would have allowed someone access to even more e-mail addresses than they might have gleaned from the original posting.
Forgive me.
That was a snippet of a soap box I get on from time to time. Just fight that urge to simply forward those emails. Copy and paste so the addresses don't remain for scoundrels to pick up for spam ads. Enough said.
Okay so here are a few of my favorites.
Trust me, I was so very honored to get this. Even more honored to share with you here.
A Birth Certificate shows you were born.
A Death Certificate shows you have died.
A photo album shows you have lived.
Things to remember along the way:
Be kinder than necessary because everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle.
If you want your dreams to come true, you mustn't oversleep.
Of all the things you wear, your expression is the most important.
The happiness of your life depends on the quality of your thoughts.
One thing you can give and still keep.......is your word.
The heaviest thing you can carry is a grudge.
You lie the loudest when you lie to yourself.
Ideas won't work unless you do.
One thing you can't recycle is wasted time.
It is never too late to become what you might have been.
Life is too short to wake up with regrets.....
so love the people who treat you right... forget about the ones who don't.
Believe everything happens for a reason.
If you get a second chance, grab it with both hands. If it changes your life, let it.
Nobody said life would be easy, they just promised it would be worth it.
And lastly, my favorite for today.......
Your mind is like a parachute.....it functions only when it is open.
Though I am not relating stories of clients this morning, I am hoping you are enjoying some of the fruits good friends offer us.
As I said, I am fresh from a camping trip with a friend who slept the day away, every day.
That is exactly what the trip was for, rest.
I have to admit, the cool temperatures and post rainy air around that campfire kept finding me asleep in my chair, too.
I am looking forward to the changing season.
I am looking ahead to new choices, better attitudes, brighter smiles.
I am hoping for your good health and much deserved happiness.
Let's all of us make some magic today, shall we?
Always, Nancy McEldowney
Sunday, July 10, 2011
What Do You Do
I'm standing in line at the grocery store, okay?
I'm standing there and Brenda walks by.
"Hey Nance!"
"Hey Bren!"
Everyone knows her, she's a checker,
so they all look at me.
I smile.
I wish I could tap dance.
So now I'm still standing in line and Karen walks by.
"Hey Nancy!"
"Hey Karen!"
Everyone knows her.
She's another checker, so they all look at me.
I smile.
I wish I could tap dance right there.
Then we would have a good reason for them to stare.
Still standing,
I start to hum.
Sure, it makes me feel a little dumb but hey,
I don't know these people, right?
So who cares.
Just then Tracy walks by.
"Hey Nance!"
"Hey Trace, how's the new baby?"
"Oh, she is so beautiful,
I just can't believe how she is so beautiful!"
You got it.
They all know her, she's a checker,
so they all look at me.
I smile.
I tell the man next to me that I have
a small but lovely home,
nestled deep within the Produce Department.
I smile again.
He doesn't get it.
I'm standing in line at the grocery store, okay,
and Sandy comes on shift.
She sees me and says, "Hi Nancy",
in that low voice that I can only perform when I get a sore throat.
Everyone knows her, she's a checker.
I smile.
Nancy McEldowney
September 28, 1995
I'm standing there and Brenda walks by.
"Hey Nance!"
"Hey Bren!"
Everyone knows her, she's a checker,
so they all look at me.
I smile.
I wish I could tap dance.
So now I'm still standing in line and Karen walks by.
"Hey Nancy!"
"Hey Karen!"
Everyone knows her.
She's another checker, so they all look at me.
I smile.
I wish I could tap dance right there.
Then we would have a good reason for them to stare.
Still standing,
I start to hum.
Sure, it makes me feel a little dumb but hey,
I don't know these people, right?
So who cares.
Just then Tracy walks by.
"Hey Nance!"
"Hey Trace, how's the new baby?"
"Oh, she is so beautiful,
I just can't believe how she is so beautiful!"
You got it.
They all know her, she's a checker,
so they all look at me.
I smile.
I tell the man next to me that I have
a small but lovely home,
nestled deep within the Produce Department.
I smile again.
He doesn't get it.
I'm standing in line at the grocery store, okay,
and Sandy comes on shift.
She sees me and says, "Hi Nancy",
in that low voice that I can only perform when I get a sore throat.
Everyone knows her, she's a checker.
I smile.
Nancy McEldowney
September 28, 1995
And The Beat Goes On
Yes, I know it has been some time since I last brought you my stories.
My apologies for that.
I have been in the thick of thin things.
If you've ever found yourself there, you know it takes as long as it takes.
Perhaps I was pushing harder than I should have.
To be honest, I had no choice but to remain in a reactive state. I so prefer to be proactive in this life.
All I can tell you is life has begun to treat me better and I am back.
Thanks for waiting for me.
I have come here today to be that reminder you may need.
The reminder we all need from time to time.
Last month I added five new clients to my weeks. Yes, it is always a good thing to increase my income and have the regular schedule that I can count on. Though I am always grateful, I am also aware that the new jobs take getting used to and the people tell me who they really are and what they really need from me, over time. I don't usually understand enough at the beginnings but beginnings are good. I don't mind the awkward moments because they always sort out.
My story today isn't about how good it is to grow.
It is about how I can get so caught up in the beginnings that I miss the now. It was a now when I saw the grayish tint to Davids' skin tone. I have asked myself why it seemed reasonable at the time. It was a now when he came home early and Kitty went back out to continue the days chores that they had hoped to accomplish. Yes, it was a now when I left that day without checking on David. It was two days later that David was admitted to the hospital and two days after that, Father's Day, he passed from Kidney failure.
David was diabetic and it was coming on for some time. That is what Kitty told me when I arrived on my next scheduled day. No, she did not even remember that they had hired me. I had only worked for them two times. She said she was glad I had cleaned the house before all the company arrived. That made me smile. We girls do have our priorities, don't we.
The whole family was there to help her get through the loss and all those moments that fill our days without the company we count on.
She just grabbed me up and held me till one of her daughters came to the door and nudged her hug till she let go. Oh my goodness, I wanted to be useful to her. At that moment, I would have done just about anything for her.
All she could talk about was Big George.
He is one big cat, about thirty pounds, and he is lost without his buddy. George only allowed David to brush him and play with him. Kitty had the right name, probably just didn't have Georges' attention, I guess.
I could hear all that she wasn't saying. I just told her to call me for anything. When all the family finally goes home. I will be someone to call.
That is sometimes all that is needed, just someone who lives here, to call.
Remember, I told you I added five new clients to my schedule?
Enter Maryann.
She is also a new client. At least I have given her a free consultation, she was recommended by one of my oldest accounts and I honor my good people with favors like that. It was a four hour conversation about life and her interests and then a little about cleaning her home. She says she is suffering from ache in her hands and legs. Also, her doctor has not eased her allergy attacks and the headaches are keeping her grumpy and unable to accomplish even her simplest tasks. Then there was the skin irritation that seemed to be nothing, to her doctor.
One week later, I worked a five hour day for her. The first hour was spent making her a lotion for her Arthritic hands. The lotion is equal parts, shea butter(4 oz) and cocoa butter(4 oz), with about four tablespoons of Arnica cream and thirty drops of Lavender Oil. Keeping it in a tub that seals but is easy to open with sore fingers made her happy. The last portion of Arnica cream I gave her for the bad days when it just ached too much and the mix wasn't enough. Then I told her about Evening Primrose Oil and how to apply it to her dry patches. I told her that she could take it internally but that poking a hole in one of the capsules and applying it directly to the spots would heal the painful places quicker. The allergies could be sorted out at a friends health and well-being store, here in our town. I knew Sue would be responsible and check on the medications she is already taking. Even just a little red clover would break up the sinus congestion. Then I put a wet wash cloth in the microwave for 20 seconds, put some lavender oil on it and gave it to her to rest her face in. The hot moisture on her nose and eyes made her feel better immediately. It was good to see her warm to me and smile so contentedly.
Before I left I asked her if the cream worked on her Arthritis. She said what people usually say to me when I make that mix for them. She said, "Oh, I forgot my hands!" I am hoping she will continue to use the mixture and ease off the pain meds. That will depend to a great extent on what her Doctor will allow.
I had also made an effort to get her kitchen scrubbed and shined and when she came back from getting her groceries, I gave her a hand with the bags and the unpacking. Before we knew it, I had to get moving to the next client.
I do two a day if it is possible.
When I was gathering up my things to leave, she started a fret about the bleach that was in my cleaner. I could see her upsetting herself.
I understand and respect being good for the planet. I regret the chemicals that I sometimes have to use. Most of my cleaning supplies are earth friendly but there was a small bleach additive in the cleaner and I was sorry she had forgotten.
The fact that she forgot is why I bring her up to you.
See, we had agreed that I would use my products the first time and if she found them to be unacceptable, we would go with her desire to use white vinegar as a cleaner. I have often used white vinegar but for a smoker, I felt a good soap was more appropriate. That yellow can become like old honey on the surface of your home. Smokers know what I am talking about.
I apologized but tried to remind her that we had made that choice during our consultation and if it was unacceptable, we would use the vinegar next time. This quieted her fret but I could tell that she was still off a little. I don't know how to explain the feeling I had but to say that this is where I started to wonder if all her lights were turned on, if you know what I mean.
My heart strings tugged as I realized how wrong I may have been about her.
At her age and all alone like she is, how could my other clients really know if she is capable of staying alone.
Had I been too busy with all the new clients and keeping up with the summer vacation homes getting back on my schedule?
Well, I wanted to believe she was okay so I told myself to wait and see.
By the time I was at my next gig I had myself fretting, too.
It was after 6 when I got home that evening but I called the client who referred Maryann to me.
I told her what I had observed and asked her if I was just fretting for nothing.
She told me that she also was not sure if I could be of use in this home.
She said that she didn't know Maryann very well but it seemed that what I do might help her maintain her independent life. That is, after all, what I attempt in all the homes I work in. These people have many different challenges to deal with and I am known as an advocate. I take it seriously. I just don't know what I am looking at when I look at Maryann. When I had left Maryann that day, we had agreed that I should call her and we would see where our calenders match up for future days.
I have left messages, no word from Maryann. So do I let this go? Of course I do. She is the Queen of her home and I have no place making annoying calls with questions. At least that is what she would say.
As for me, I drive by to see if she is turning on lights and watering her little flower bed. Maybe she won't call me back for now, but that doesn't mean she won't look for me. If she has a memory issue, if she falls, if she just changes her mind and looks for help again from someone who will be good to her, I will be here.
I will be sharing with my other client that I have concerns but that Maryann is not returning my calls. This is a small town and it will get back to my client if Maryann is confused and thinks that I am unavailable. It all just takes time and legally all I can do is drive by now and then.
Not what the Police Dept. would do, just a stop by for a chat kind of thing.
If all those lights aren't burning bright in her beautiful mind, it is important that someone keep a look out for her.
Again you ask yourself, "Yes, but what is the reminder?"
All I wish to remind you of is that we are all of us, moving as fast as we can.
No matter how good our intentions are, we can so easily misread a situation.
It was a now when she told me her ailments and I gave her suggestions and lotions and oils that I am familiar with. Some of it worked right away, other parts of my ideas caused her fret when she felt I had not listened to her wishes. It was a now when I was arrogant and feeling I could just come in and make her better. It was a now when I was irresponsible and sent her to the Wellness Center for allergy aids when we don't know if the headache is really from an allergy.
For now, it seems we are helping her. Until she returns my call, I will not know for sure.
The reminder?
Really look at the people you are talking to.
Pay attention to what is right in front of you and make the effort to see the perspective of those people you spend time with.
I don't really believe making something of Davids' skin tone, that day, would have changed anything for those good people. The fact that I was called in meant that they understood life was getting more complicated and help was necessary.
But I did take for granted that these people needed less than was actually needed. Kitty may not have understood what the skin tone meant. Have to let that go.
Maryann was alone and telling me about someone who had worked for her before. I didn't really listen when it didn't make sense, I checked the clock and made the move for the door. My next gig was waiting. At first, she did appear to be living her life well enough. At least I have options left with her and these things do take time to unfold.
When you get on my client list, you get respect and care. Even when you don't want to need the care, I am someone who understands, most of the time, and intends to be there when you call.
That is the reputation that I have built these past eleven years.
This blog reflects my observations and intentions.
It honors me to find you here, interested.
As Always,
Nancy McEldowney
My apologies for that.
I have been in the thick of thin things.
If you've ever found yourself there, you know it takes as long as it takes.
Perhaps I was pushing harder than I should have.
To be honest, I had no choice but to remain in a reactive state. I so prefer to be proactive in this life.
All I can tell you is life has begun to treat me better and I am back.
Thanks for waiting for me.
I have come here today to be that reminder you may need.
The reminder we all need from time to time.
Last month I added five new clients to my weeks. Yes, it is always a good thing to increase my income and have the regular schedule that I can count on. Though I am always grateful, I am also aware that the new jobs take getting used to and the people tell me who they really are and what they really need from me, over time. I don't usually understand enough at the beginnings but beginnings are good. I don't mind the awkward moments because they always sort out.
My story today isn't about how good it is to grow.
It is about how I can get so caught up in the beginnings that I miss the now. It was a now when I saw the grayish tint to Davids' skin tone. I have asked myself why it seemed reasonable at the time. It was a now when he came home early and Kitty went back out to continue the days chores that they had hoped to accomplish. Yes, it was a now when I left that day without checking on David. It was two days later that David was admitted to the hospital and two days after that, Father's Day, he passed from Kidney failure.
David was diabetic and it was coming on for some time. That is what Kitty told me when I arrived on my next scheduled day. No, she did not even remember that they had hired me. I had only worked for them two times. She said she was glad I had cleaned the house before all the company arrived. That made me smile. We girls do have our priorities, don't we.
The whole family was there to help her get through the loss and all those moments that fill our days without the company we count on.
She just grabbed me up and held me till one of her daughters came to the door and nudged her hug till she let go. Oh my goodness, I wanted to be useful to her. At that moment, I would have done just about anything for her.
All she could talk about was Big George.
He is one big cat, about thirty pounds, and he is lost without his buddy. George only allowed David to brush him and play with him. Kitty had the right name, probably just didn't have Georges' attention, I guess.
I could hear all that she wasn't saying. I just told her to call me for anything. When all the family finally goes home. I will be someone to call.
That is sometimes all that is needed, just someone who lives here, to call.
Remember, I told you I added five new clients to my schedule?
Enter Maryann.
She is also a new client. At least I have given her a free consultation, she was recommended by one of my oldest accounts and I honor my good people with favors like that. It was a four hour conversation about life and her interests and then a little about cleaning her home. She says she is suffering from ache in her hands and legs. Also, her doctor has not eased her allergy attacks and the headaches are keeping her grumpy and unable to accomplish even her simplest tasks. Then there was the skin irritation that seemed to be nothing, to her doctor.
One week later, I worked a five hour day for her. The first hour was spent making her a lotion for her Arthritic hands. The lotion is equal parts, shea butter(4 oz) and cocoa butter(4 oz), with about four tablespoons of Arnica cream and thirty drops of Lavender Oil. Keeping it in a tub that seals but is easy to open with sore fingers made her happy. The last portion of Arnica cream I gave her for the bad days when it just ached too much and the mix wasn't enough. Then I told her about Evening Primrose Oil and how to apply it to her dry patches. I told her that she could take it internally but that poking a hole in one of the capsules and applying it directly to the spots would heal the painful places quicker. The allergies could be sorted out at a friends health and well-being store, here in our town. I knew Sue would be responsible and check on the medications she is already taking. Even just a little red clover would break up the sinus congestion. Then I put a wet wash cloth in the microwave for 20 seconds, put some lavender oil on it and gave it to her to rest her face in. The hot moisture on her nose and eyes made her feel better immediately. It was good to see her warm to me and smile so contentedly.
Before I left I asked her if the cream worked on her Arthritis. She said what people usually say to me when I make that mix for them. She said, "Oh, I forgot my hands!" I am hoping she will continue to use the mixture and ease off the pain meds. That will depend to a great extent on what her Doctor will allow.
I had also made an effort to get her kitchen scrubbed and shined and when she came back from getting her groceries, I gave her a hand with the bags and the unpacking. Before we knew it, I had to get moving to the next client.
I do two a day if it is possible.
When I was gathering up my things to leave, she started a fret about the bleach that was in my cleaner. I could see her upsetting herself.
I understand and respect being good for the planet. I regret the chemicals that I sometimes have to use. Most of my cleaning supplies are earth friendly but there was a small bleach additive in the cleaner and I was sorry she had forgotten.
The fact that she forgot is why I bring her up to you.
See, we had agreed that I would use my products the first time and if she found them to be unacceptable, we would go with her desire to use white vinegar as a cleaner. I have often used white vinegar but for a smoker, I felt a good soap was more appropriate. That yellow can become like old honey on the surface of your home. Smokers know what I am talking about.
I apologized but tried to remind her that we had made that choice during our consultation and if it was unacceptable, we would use the vinegar next time. This quieted her fret but I could tell that she was still off a little. I don't know how to explain the feeling I had but to say that this is where I started to wonder if all her lights were turned on, if you know what I mean.
My heart strings tugged as I realized how wrong I may have been about her.
At her age and all alone like she is, how could my other clients really know if she is capable of staying alone.
Had I been too busy with all the new clients and keeping up with the summer vacation homes getting back on my schedule?
Well, I wanted to believe she was okay so I told myself to wait and see.
By the time I was at my next gig I had myself fretting, too.
It was after 6 when I got home that evening but I called the client who referred Maryann to me.
I told her what I had observed and asked her if I was just fretting for nothing.
She told me that she also was not sure if I could be of use in this home.
She said that she didn't know Maryann very well but it seemed that what I do might help her maintain her independent life. That is, after all, what I attempt in all the homes I work in. These people have many different challenges to deal with and I am known as an advocate. I take it seriously. I just don't know what I am looking at when I look at Maryann. When I had left Maryann that day, we had agreed that I should call her and we would see where our calenders match up for future days.
I have left messages, no word from Maryann. So do I let this go? Of course I do. She is the Queen of her home and I have no place making annoying calls with questions. At least that is what she would say.
As for me, I drive by to see if she is turning on lights and watering her little flower bed. Maybe she won't call me back for now, but that doesn't mean she won't look for me. If she has a memory issue, if she falls, if she just changes her mind and looks for help again from someone who will be good to her, I will be here.
I will be sharing with my other client that I have concerns but that Maryann is not returning my calls. This is a small town and it will get back to my client if Maryann is confused and thinks that I am unavailable. It all just takes time and legally all I can do is drive by now and then.
Not what the Police Dept. would do, just a stop by for a chat kind of thing.
If all those lights aren't burning bright in her beautiful mind, it is important that someone keep a look out for her.
Again you ask yourself, "Yes, but what is the reminder?"
All I wish to remind you of is that we are all of us, moving as fast as we can.
No matter how good our intentions are, we can so easily misread a situation.
It was a now when she told me her ailments and I gave her suggestions and lotions and oils that I am familiar with. Some of it worked right away, other parts of my ideas caused her fret when she felt I had not listened to her wishes. It was a now when I was arrogant and feeling I could just come in and make her better. It was a now when I was irresponsible and sent her to the Wellness Center for allergy aids when we don't know if the headache is really from an allergy.
For now, it seems we are helping her. Until she returns my call, I will not know for sure.
The reminder?
Really look at the people you are talking to.
Pay attention to what is right in front of you and make the effort to see the perspective of those people you spend time with.
I don't really believe making something of Davids' skin tone, that day, would have changed anything for those good people. The fact that I was called in meant that they understood life was getting more complicated and help was necessary.
But I did take for granted that these people needed less than was actually needed. Kitty may not have understood what the skin tone meant. Have to let that go.
Maryann was alone and telling me about someone who had worked for her before. I didn't really listen when it didn't make sense, I checked the clock and made the move for the door. My next gig was waiting. At first, she did appear to be living her life well enough. At least I have options left with her and these things do take time to unfold.
When you get on my client list, you get respect and care. Even when you don't want to need the care, I am someone who understands, most of the time, and intends to be there when you call.
That is the reputation that I have built these past eleven years.
This blog reflects my observations and intentions.
It honors me to find you here, interested.
As Always,
Nancy McEldowney
Sunday, February 6, 2011
For The Man
She was spinning the final laugh to remember you by.
I was telling the tales of your days with mine.
Somewhere in the ether you're smiling now.
Somewhere in the open you're free to see, to laugh, to dance.
The music still plays on while you move beyond.
See me bow to celebrate my time with you.
I am wishing out the days till your voice again meets mine.
I am wishing out the time.
Dancing the final dance is never alone for one such as you.
Singing for you, you let me in on your final thoughts and needs.
Somewhere in those final places, I fit.
Eyes closed, heart wide open, you said, "You're welcome," and I was grateful for it.
Dancing in the great wide open now, you're free to see, to laugh,
loving this new day.
Somewhere the music still plays, while you lift and drift away.
Scattering light like far away stars too distant for my sight.
I am wishing out the days till your voice again meets mine.
Wishing out the days till your morning meets my night.
For now, your smile is in my dream time.
Loved ones consider your absence with such tender longing.
Hand to hand we wish for your peace.
All over town, dogs play in celebration of your release.
Days go on as these moments go by.
I have noticed that your smile is in my dream time.
For now, there go I.
For now, there go I.
Nancy McEldowney
February 2, 2011
I was telling the tales of your days with mine.
Somewhere in the ether you're smiling now.
Somewhere in the open you're free to see, to laugh, to dance.
The music still plays on while you move beyond.
See me bow to celebrate my time with you.
I am wishing out the days till your voice again meets mine.
I am wishing out the time.
Dancing the final dance is never alone for one such as you.
Singing for you, you let me in on your final thoughts and needs.
Somewhere in those final places, I fit.
Eyes closed, heart wide open, you said, "You're welcome," and I was grateful for it.
Dancing in the great wide open now, you're free to see, to laugh,
loving this new day.
Somewhere the music still plays, while you lift and drift away.
Scattering light like far away stars too distant for my sight.
I am wishing out the days till your voice again meets mine.
Wishing out the days till your morning meets my night.
For now, your smile is in my dream time.
Loved ones consider your absence with such tender longing.
Hand to hand we wish for your peace.
All over town, dogs play in celebration of your release.
Days go on as these moments go by.
I have noticed that your smile is in my dream time.
For now, there go I.
For now, there go I.
Nancy McEldowney
February 2, 2011
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Elder Abuse And What Power We May Have.
Usually when I submit stories here, I am simply reflecting for you to see another experience to consider.
Today is a different day and what we will consider here is still the result of real life experience for me. It is just not the experience I prefer to share with you so please, take from this blog any useful information you can find for unseen future challenges.
It was in 2008 that I was introduced to these two good people.
They are friends of other clients of mine.
Daisy had bragged about me.
Of course that meant Elaine just had to have me after that.
Elaine is in her eighties and she had had a fall. Now that she was home, it was still a painful challenge to meet each day. She said she was in need of bi-weekly help to accomplish a clean home. After the first time I worked with her, I could see that she was in need of time with someone other than her husband and the endless medical staff.
We found we had a lot in common and soon it was nice when her Wed. morning rolled around again.
It didn't take long for me to understand the places I could best help. Always asking for instruction gave her a place she could control when so many other places in her life required she allow others to have control.
As I remember, she told me that her husband had required she leave her rehab situation to come home, too soon. Without the facility to help her it had been a hard road. When I asked why she would give him that power she only laughed and said,"Oh, don't worry about me. I made him pay for that!"
Politics between married people don't allow for outsiders.
I just did the best I could for her and slowly she started to get stronger.
She still had bad days more often than good. She had shut down a little, out of frustration.
When she finally took my suggestion to simply give the "next" medical staff a chance to succeed, well, she saw improvement.
She found herself renewed in the effort to regain her ability to enjoy her life.
I had found myself hopeful for her.
In truth, I truly enjoyed what little interaction I had with her husband.
Bill is a charming guy.
Tall and still handsome in his eighties. Golfs or walks every day.
Very smart with the stocks according to Elaine. They are comfortable according to Bill.
I once spent two hours trying to help him understand his new cell phone.
Another day he snagged my attention for an hour to teach him how to clear his e-mail box of spam and how to turn on his spam filters. Very nice guy and able to learn tech stuff rather quickly. I liked that.
All in all, these people fit perfectly in my schedule and were open to compromise if another client needed emergency help or temporary schedule changes.
My schedule seemed to work well with theirs.
I didn't have a key to their home and though they are my only clients who prefer not to give me a key, well, I just did the best I could for them and thought little of it.
Fast forward to Christmas of 2010.
Evidently, Elaine took quite a fall. Family came into town to help her get around while she was introduced to another Emergency Room staff. Bill did what Bill does.
He does not seem to relinquish control of Elaine without a fight.
He kept her home when clearly she was in need of medical staff,
and appropriate handicap tools to work with.
It's not that I was included in her experience.
I arrived for our next scheduled day and found Elaine suffering, with Bill and his daughter in attendance.
She told me that she had broken her shoulder in three places. The Emergency room staff told her about it and her doctor had prescribed pain meds.
While I was working on the over used areas of the house, Bill brought Elaine and his daughter through to the garage to take Elaine for some imaging to be done.
It was the Wednesday after Christmas. She had not had a cat-scan and it was four days after the fall.
Though she was walking, I ached for the shell of Elaine that tried to make her way by me. Talking, walking, breathing, nothing was easy for her right now.
That night I got a call that she had been admitted because they found that she had also broken the ball of the hip on that side of her body.
We can re-visit the times when I have gotten on my soap box about the stone tiles people choose for their bathrooms. We can re-consider the uses throw rugs really have when our feet no longer listen to our brains and simply won't step the way we tell them to. Just doesn't change anything to rant.
So, I went for a visit.
Her sense of humor was still intact so we had as good a visit as we could.
She was surprised to see me.
I was there because if you are one of my clients I pay attention and visit you when you are able to have visitors. Standard procedure.
When she felt the fatigue set in, we all left. Bill's daughter needed a ride to get lunch so I took her and she bought me lunch with a chat included.
I didn't realize that she was giving me a warning.
She said that her dad would be getting me fired soon. He had done that two years ago, with the last in-home care Elaine had used. Evidently the in-home care had not agreed with his removing her so soon so she was let go.
Remember I had been hired because she had been taken from her rehab facility too soon?
It did take Bill the two weeks she had predicted but I was amazed by his covert approach. This guy has practiced.
I arrived for my next scheduled day but the door was locked. I went to the facility thinking they just wouldn't need me that day.
Unexpected cancellations do happen so I was open.
I visited with Elaine while she seemed to be waiting for a bed change. Then she started talking. She had not been able to get an attendant to get her out of bed to relieve herself. She said they just never answered her repeated buzzer.
She was so embarrassed to tell me she had not been able to get out herself and was forced to wet herself and her bed.
They had not gotten her to the shower and they still had not changed her bed so she could get out of the chair. Hip surgery a week before?
I asked her how long she had been in the chair.
She cried that it had been over an hour.
This woman was having one hard morning. It was only 8:30.
I told her that I would pitch in and wheeled her back up the ramp to her room. We found a nurse helping someone else toilet so we waited for her to finish.
Then I asked for the bed clothes, that I would get the change accomplished.
She told us simply that, "They" would. I said, "They" aren't.
She popped in and we changed the bed together. Getting Elaine flat again really changed her tone. Now if they would just get her pain med. to her, she could try to get strong enough for a shower. The nurse promised the other nurse would be coming back from break soon.
They took breaks with a post hip replacement stuck in a chair, no bed and no pain meds. I was grateful that I had come to see her. We were just getting a smile going when Bill came in almost shouting at her through his odd smile.
I was stunned at what I watched.
He stood at the end of her bed berating her for her laziness.
He was shouting that twenty years ago this had happened to him and he had recovered by now.
She laid there with her face in her hands just sobbing. Then she shouted that no one cares if this happened to him before.
He shouted back that she shouldn't be crying, she should be walking and has she even been out of her bed yet today?
Oh my goodness, I didn't know what to think. I said she had been up but that we were waiting for her pain meds and......
He just kept telling her she was worthless and then left us both in tears to go flirt up the nurse, distracting her from getting those pain meds. counted out, with all Elaine's other meds.
He didn't think twice about acting this way in my presence.
Legally and morally I had to pay attention and manage this situation as productively for this woman, as I could.
I also had to protect myself.
I had reported this behavior to the nurse after my warning but she denied any understanding or interest.
As in-home care I have very few options for my married clients.
You see, we are in one of the states that maintains husbands and wives have the final say, legally. "Without a victim there is no crime", is the way the Police Dept. has to honor it.
I have been hired in similar situations but it was only because the family was no longer invited to see their mom. This was different.
Family seems to know he does this.
They do not speak about it because they understand that she will stay.
Back to that morning, Bill and Elaine did agree I should get the house prepared for her eventual return. I did not consider how soon it would be.
Bill came back to the house three times to shout in that charming, tired tone he has always had. This time he was hurtful and almost mean but it came out so soft I wasn't sure what was happening to me till he left. Then he would return with some odd intention but would walk by me to get to the car and say something else that was insulting or hurtful but with a smile.
The third time I did lose my patience and I did shout to him that this was only about her and could not be about him or me. I have never shouted at any client before.
Even when a woman came at my throat shouting at me.
No,this was his effort to stir the pot.
I finished the house and removed the rugs, stacking them where he had told me to.
I moved chairs and opened areas for the supposed equipment he had told me he was going for. Everything looked positive when I left. The place was ready for EMT's to move around freely if she needed that level of help in her future rehab. Walkways were cleared if she could actually heal enough to walk in her home.
After I returned from an afternoon client, a message on my machine told me this,
"Hello, I am taking complete control of Elaine and I am in complete control of running the house. You are no longer needed. Do not come back."
The daughter predicted, the father played it through, the care-giver fell for it.
I was so disappointed in myself for not seeing what was happening to me.
I decided to get to the facility and act as if I had not been home yet.
When I got there it was around six.
The nurse was quietly at her desk reading. The dinner attendants were helping people at the tables as they finished and looked up to see the face walking by.
I always have a smile and I search for the ones who smile back.
I knocked because I could see that she was not dressed but sitting in her wheelchair.
She said come in anyway and with her top completely exposed, I could tell she was drugged.
She would never had shown me under her bra like that.
She did have pants on and someone was behind the wall. I assumed it was a nurse dressing her.
It was Bill and he just grunted and spoke a few words to Elaine before he left her there and walked out with a bundle of clothes in his hands. Yes, he left her without her shirt on. He could not or would not look me in the eye. He whispered to her and acted so hurt. She was in protect mode, I could tell.
I offered to help but she was so mad, I just grabbed her coat and put it over her so she could try to cover up. She shouted that I was fired. Bill says you tore up our house and that you are in my business. I don't need a friend, I need someone who will come clean my house and then just leave.
I pretended to be confused and made her repeat what Bill had told her so I could tell her how it had really happened.
She was confused when I told her that her husband had instructed all that I did. I admitted that he had returned three times to yell at me and that I had cried for a long time over his aggression with me.
I did not tell her that he had frightened me that last time.
This brought her to her senses for a minute but she said he was taking her home that night.
I could see this was a client I had to walk away from.
Married politics isolate people in the eyes of the community that exists as witness to the day to day.
I remembered what the daughter had said.
When Elaine said that I should go and not upset her, I did.
I reported the incident to the nurse one more time, as best I could and apologized if my earlier concerns had offended.
She smiled at my handling her but was uninterested in Elaine's well-being.
Or perhaps simply aware of her lack of control or ability to help.
Exhausting.
The next day, I received a letter that I kept on file.
Basically Bill honored me with a legal document that verifies I have been removed from the situation. Therefore, if this escalates, I will be able to testify but not be held responsible for not reporting what I had observed.
I started at the local Senior Center. The Director has been referring me for ten years and she is always open to help me help our community.
She did not know how to move on this as it is still a man and wife issue.
We agreed the first place to go was our County's Senior Advocacy Group. It took some phone navigation to get to the right jurisdiction but when I reached the right person, it went well. I gave my statement of observation and experience. Then I requested the case be opened and unannounced visits should begin.
As in many states in our country, we only have Social Services to work with because they have the right to enter the home if suspicious circumstances occur. I have been told that this agency moves slowly on these situations and will tell me they are understaffed but I had to report it.
They have it on file to schedule soon.
From there I was told to got to the local Police Dept.
Because of my concerns and the record of suspicious circumstances at the address in the past 10 years, they have the right to go to the door and request a wellness check of the woman reported to be at risk.
The officer and I went through the records and decided it was a probability that she really did fall and not by his hand. Because they found no closure for calls before, they had the legal ability to pay attention and request access to her. The law only allows the request and their ability to make their presence known.
A husband or wife can say no to the request and the Police Dept. can only report to Social Services that entry was denied. Nothing more.
Good people there will be no ending here that satisfies.
I had to walk away.
In this situation,
I have been assured that I have done all that I am legally able to do.
It does not ease my concerns but I know I have to walk away.
You will, too, someday and this will be upsetting for you, too.
Stand strong good people, stand strong.
Do what you can.
Share this post when you find it useful.
Be present in this life you choose.
Forgive the places you re-think and re-work to find a better ending.
Care-givers are in service in peoples homes.
Those people we care for are the Kings and Queens, of their homes.
We are in service because we choose to be.
They pay for our company because of who we are.
They are not who we are.
Be well.
Nancy McEldowney
Today is a different day and what we will consider here is still the result of real life experience for me. It is just not the experience I prefer to share with you so please, take from this blog any useful information you can find for unseen future challenges.
It was in 2008 that I was introduced to these two good people.
They are friends of other clients of mine.
Daisy had bragged about me.
Of course that meant Elaine just had to have me after that.
Elaine is in her eighties and she had had a fall. Now that she was home, it was still a painful challenge to meet each day. She said she was in need of bi-weekly help to accomplish a clean home. After the first time I worked with her, I could see that she was in need of time with someone other than her husband and the endless medical staff.
We found we had a lot in common and soon it was nice when her Wed. morning rolled around again.
It didn't take long for me to understand the places I could best help. Always asking for instruction gave her a place she could control when so many other places in her life required she allow others to have control.
As I remember, she told me that her husband had required she leave her rehab situation to come home, too soon. Without the facility to help her it had been a hard road. When I asked why she would give him that power she only laughed and said,"Oh, don't worry about me. I made him pay for that!"
Politics between married people don't allow for outsiders.
I just did the best I could for her and slowly she started to get stronger.
She still had bad days more often than good. She had shut down a little, out of frustration.
When she finally took my suggestion to simply give the "next" medical staff a chance to succeed, well, she saw improvement.
She found herself renewed in the effort to regain her ability to enjoy her life.
I had found myself hopeful for her.
In truth, I truly enjoyed what little interaction I had with her husband.
Bill is a charming guy.
Tall and still handsome in his eighties. Golfs or walks every day.
Very smart with the stocks according to Elaine. They are comfortable according to Bill.
I once spent two hours trying to help him understand his new cell phone.
Another day he snagged my attention for an hour to teach him how to clear his e-mail box of spam and how to turn on his spam filters. Very nice guy and able to learn tech stuff rather quickly. I liked that.
All in all, these people fit perfectly in my schedule and were open to compromise if another client needed emergency help or temporary schedule changes.
My schedule seemed to work well with theirs.
I didn't have a key to their home and though they are my only clients who prefer not to give me a key, well, I just did the best I could for them and thought little of it.
Fast forward to Christmas of 2010.
Evidently, Elaine took quite a fall. Family came into town to help her get around while she was introduced to another Emergency Room staff. Bill did what Bill does.
He does not seem to relinquish control of Elaine without a fight.
He kept her home when clearly she was in need of medical staff,
and appropriate handicap tools to work with.
It's not that I was included in her experience.
I arrived for our next scheduled day and found Elaine suffering, with Bill and his daughter in attendance.
She told me that she had broken her shoulder in three places. The Emergency room staff told her about it and her doctor had prescribed pain meds.
While I was working on the over used areas of the house, Bill brought Elaine and his daughter through to the garage to take Elaine for some imaging to be done.
It was the Wednesday after Christmas. She had not had a cat-scan and it was four days after the fall.
Though she was walking, I ached for the shell of Elaine that tried to make her way by me. Talking, walking, breathing, nothing was easy for her right now.
That night I got a call that she had been admitted because they found that she had also broken the ball of the hip on that side of her body.
We can re-visit the times when I have gotten on my soap box about the stone tiles people choose for their bathrooms. We can re-consider the uses throw rugs really have when our feet no longer listen to our brains and simply won't step the way we tell them to. Just doesn't change anything to rant.
So, I went for a visit.
Her sense of humor was still intact so we had as good a visit as we could.
She was surprised to see me.
I was there because if you are one of my clients I pay attention and visit you when you are able to have visitors. Standard procedure.
When she felt the fatigue set in, we all left. Bill's daughter needed a ride to get lunch so I took her and she bought me lunch with a chat included.
I didn't realize that she was giving me a warning.
She said that her dad would be getting me fired soon. He had done that two years ago, with the last in-home care Elaine had used. Evidently the in-home care had not agreed with his removing her so soon so she was let go.
Remember I had been hired because she had been taken from her rehab facility too soon?
It did take Bill the two weeks she had predicted but I was amazed by his covert approach. This guy has practiced.
I arrived for my next scheduled day but the door was locked. I went to the facility thinking they just wouldn't need me that day.
Unexpected cancellations do happen so I was open.
I visited with Elaine while she seemed to be waiting for a bed change. Then she started talking. She had not been able to get an attendant to get her out of bed to relieve herself. She said they just never answered her repeated buzzer.
She was so embarrassed to tell me she had not been able to get out herself and was forced to wet herself and her bed.
They had not gotten her to the shower and they still had not changed her bed so she could get out of the chair. Hip surgery a week before?
I asked her how long she had been in the chair.
She cried that it had been over an hour.
This woman was having one hard morning. It was only 8:30.
I told her that I would pitch in and wheeled her back up the ramp to her room. We found a nurse helping someone else toilet so we waited for her to finish.
Then I asked for the bed clothes, that I would get the change accomplished.
She told us simply that, "They" would. I said, "They" aren't.
She popped in and we changed the bed together. Getting Elaine flat again really changed her tone. Now if they would just get her pain med. to her, she could try to get strong enough for a shower. The nurse promised the other nurse would be coming back from break soon.
They took breaks with a post hip replacement stuck in a chair, no bed and no pain meds. I was grateful that I had come to see her. We were just getting a smile going when Bill came in almost shouting at her through his odd smile.
I was stunned at what I watched.
He stood at the end of her bed berating her for her laziness.
He was shouting that twenty years ago this had happened to him and he had recovered by now.
She laid there with her face in her hands just sobbing. Then she shouted that no one cares if this happened to him before.
He shouted back that she shouldn't be crying, she should be walking and has she even been out of her bed yet today?
Oh my goodness, I didn't know what to think. I said she had been up but that we were waiting for her pain meds and......
He just kept telling her she was worthless and then left us both in tears to go flirt up the nurse, distracting her from getting those pain meds. counted out, with all Elaine's other meds.
He didn't think twice about acting this way in my presence.
Legally and morally I had to pay attention and manage this situation as productively for this woman, as I could.
I also had to protect myself.
I had reported this behavior to the nurse after my warning but she denied any understanding or interest.
As in-home care I have very few options for my married clients.
You see, we are in one of the states that maintains husbands and wives have the final say, legally. "Without a victim there is no crime", is the way the Police Dept. has to honor it.
I have been hired in similar situations but it was only because the family was no longer invited to see their mom. This was different.
Family seems to know he does this.
They do not speak about it because they understand that she will stay.
Back to that morning, Bill and Elaine did agree I should get the house prepared for her eventual return. I did not consider how soon it would be.
Bill came back to the house three times to shout in that charming, tired tone he has always had. This time he was hurtful and almost mean but it came out so soft I wasn't sure what was happening to me till he left. Then he would return with some odd intention but would walk by me to get to the car and say something else that was insulting or hurtful but with a smile.
The third time I did lose my patience and I did shout to him that this was only about her and could not be about him or me. I have never shouted at any client before.
Even when a woman came at my throat shouting at me.
No,this was his effort to stir the pot.
I finished the house and removed the rugs, stacking them where he had told me to.
I moved chairs and opened areas for the supposed equipment he had told me he was going for. Everything looked positive when I left. The place was ready for EMT's to move around freely if she needed that level of help in her future rehab. Walkways were cleared if she could actually heal enough to walk in her home.
After I returned from an afternoon client, a message on my machine told me this,
"Hello, I am taking complete control of Elaine and I am in complete control of running the house. You are no longer needed. Do not come back."
The daughter predicted, the father played it through, the care-giver fell for it.
I was so disappointed in myself for not seeing what was happening to me.
I decided to get to the facility and act as if I had not been home yet.
When I got there it was around six.
The nurse was quietly at her desk reading. The dinner attendants were helping people at the tables as they finished and looked up to see the face walking by.
I always have a smile and I search for the ones who smile back.
I knocked because I could see that she was not dressed but sitting in her wheelchair.
She said come in anyway and with her top completely exposed, I could tell she was drugged.
She would never had shown me under her bra like that.
She did have pants on and someone was behind the wall. I assumed it was a nurse dressing her.
It was Bill and he just grunted and spoke a few words to Elaine before he left her there and walked out with a bundle of clothes in his hands. Yes, he left her without her shirt on. He could not or would not look me in the eye. He whispered to her and acted so hurt. She was in protect mode, I could tell.
I offered to help but she was so mad, I just grabbed her coat and put it over her so she could try to cover up. She shouted that I was fired. Bill says you tore up our house and that you are in my business. I don't need a friend, I need someone who will come clean my house and then just leave.
I pretended to be confused and made her repeat what Bill had told her so I could tell her how it had really happened.
She was confused when I told her that her husband had instructed all that I did. I admitted that he had returned three times to yell at me and that I had cried for a long time over his aggression with me.
I did not tell her that he had frightened me that last time.
This brought her to her senses for a minute but she said he was taking her home that night.
I could see this was a client I had to walk away from.
Married politics isolate people in the eyes of the community that exists as witness to the day to day.
I remembered what the daughter had said.
When Elaine said that I should go and not upset her, I did.
I reported the incident to the nurse one more time, as best I could and apologized if my earlier concerns had offended.
She smiled at my handling her but was uninterested in Elaine's well-being.
Or perhaps simply aware of her lack of control or ability to help.
Exhausting.
The next day, I received a letter that I kept on file.
Basically Bill honored me with a legal document that verifies I have been removed from the situation. Therefore, if this escalates, I will be able to testify but not be held responsible for not reporting what I had observed.
I started at the local Senior Center. The Director has been referring me for ten years and she is always open to help me help our community.
She did not know how to move on this as it is still a man and wife issue.
We agreed the first place to go was our County's Senior Advocacy Group. It took some phone navigation to get to the right jurisdiction but when I reached the right person, it went well. I gave my statement of observation and experience. Then I requested the case be opened and unannounced visits should begin.
As in many states in our country, we only have Social Services to work with because they have the right to enter the home if suspicious circumstances occur. I have been told that this agency moves slowly on these situations and will tell me they are understaffed but I had to report it.
They have it on file to schedule soon.
From there I was told to got to the local Police Dept.
Because of my concerns and the record of suspicious circumstances at the address in the past 10 years, they have the right to go to the door and request a wellness check of the woman reported to be at risk.
The officer and I went through the records and decided it was a probability that she really did fall and not by his hand. Because they found no closure for calls before, they had the legal ability to pay attention and request access to her. The law only allows the request and their ability to make their presence known.
A husband or wife can say no to the request and the Police Dept. can only report to Social Services that entry was denied. Nothing more.
Good people there will be no ending here that satisfies.
I had to walk away.
In this situation,
I have been assured that I have done all that I am legally able to do.
It does not ease my concerns but I know I have to walk away.
You will, too, someday and this will be upsetting for you, too.
Stand strong good people, stand strong.
Do what you can.
Share this post when you find it useful.
Be present in this life you choose.
Forgive the places you re-think and re-work to find a better ending.
Care-givers are in service in peoples homes.
Those people we care for are the Kings and Queens, of their homes.
We are in service because we choose to be.
They pay for our company because of who we are.
They are not who we are.
Be well.
Nancy McEldowney
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