Heartwings Love Notes
Heartwings says, “How we frame our experiences can help them help us grow.”
I participate in an internet group of people who deal with being in some way disabled. The chief experience they share is blindness. I have great admiration for the positive attitudes I’ve encountered among this group, and most particularly those of their founder and leader Patty Fletcher. She asked me to contribute some writing about my experiences with Parkinson’s and the disabilities I cope with.
There is a saying to the effect that if all of us were to hang our troubles on a tree, rather than exchange them, each would take back their own. I have only admiration for how others cope with being without sight. My Parkinson’s, a neurological condition, presents me with extreme slowness and considerable weakness. My hands are slow and rather clumsy; I can no longer sew and dealing with buttons is too challenging. My writing dwindles as I try to form the words. I tire easily, have balance issues, and walk bent over.
Coping with these conditions, at least for me, revolves around not feeling I need to try to do more or do better than I am able at the time. Some days are better, some worse. Making comparisons between the present and the past is negative, creating even more frustration than I already experience. I often underestimate how much time anything will take me and end up being late. Of course, I fear looking awkward or pitiable, although currently I do not shake and tremble as many with this condition do. That can change.
At least at this time my mind remains clear, apparently unaffected except for some forgetfulness. I’d be surprised if I wasn’t somewhat so at my age. I feel blessed for that, and for the help I receive from my dear husband and the Elder Services available to me. My mother started losing her mental focus in her 70’s, and lost much of it by the age I am now—I’ll be 90 this fall.
My current best coping mechanism is to see my condition as graduate school, working on a Master’s in patience and detachment, enhancing my ability to keep on keeping on. I struggle with my attempts to maintain my equilibrium keeping my mind on the present and ignoring thoughts of what I was once able to do. Comparisons with the past have little to no use when it comes to making progress; avoiding that keeps me focused on what I am able to accomplish.
In the fifties, when I was a young mother with two small daughters, my friends and I often gathered in one another’s kitchens for visits and chitchat. One day one of my friends looked at me, shook her head and said, “You are so brave, hanging your copper-bottomed pots for all to see without polishing them. Most women wouldn’t dare.” I smiled at her. “It doesn’t seem important to polish them,” I told her. “I’d rather play with my children or read to them.”
There was an advertising phrase that went, “Nothing says loving like something from the oven…” however, I think the advertising agency had it backward. It’s the love in the preparation that does this. The oven only helps, as do the ingredients, preferably as clean and fresh as possible. Love helps us to choose them, as well as to guide the utensils used in the preparation. Furthermore, the focus of the mind is an important ingredient as well. If I am angry or upset when I am preparing food, it could affect the way it tastes as well as the way it is digested. Though I can’t prove it, it’s my belief that thoughts and feelings can be powerful in their effect on food.
I’ve never been a competitive person. Usually a sense of competition kicks in around the age of four, when a child gains a clear understanding of “me” and “mine.” Even then there is often a desire to share unless the child is surrounded by competitors. When I was growing up competition was the rule and the idea of a game that required cooperation instead was unknown. I did not enjoy the competitive world I grew up in.
I disliked it intensely when as a child I was ill and had to stay home from school. It was no fun whatsoever. My mother did not believe in coddling sick people. She thought it would make them malinger. Perhaps she thought if I was bored I’d get better sooner and want to get back to school. She did not treat me with sympathy. My entertainment consisted of listening to soap operas on the radio and reading if I was allowed to. When I had the measles I spent days in a darkened room with nothing to do. It was said reading would damage my eyes
Of a recent Saturday, we were out and about checking the yard sales. While Stephen was perusing the items displayed there, I fell into a conversation with the person in charge. She had grown up in Grafton and spoke of how much had changed in the years she had lived here. I agreed. Although we have lived here only thirty years as of this year, we too have seen many changes. This got me to thinking about how it was then compared to how it is now.
Because I was very different in my interests as well as my life circumstances from that of many of my classmates I was badly bullied in grade school. However what was worse was that I had no good way to respond to my classmates’ unkind behavior. It wasn’t until I discovered meditation that I acquired a way of controlling not only my reactions and responses but also of avoiding the potential complications of thoughtlessly spontaneous and perhaps provocative words and actions.
When my children were small it was easy for me to set priorities. First and foremost they were related to the needs involved in parenting. Children let you know when they must have something, whether it is changing, food or the toy they saw on TV. Sometimes they yell until they get it. Later on they can be more subtle yet any concerned parent can figure these things out sooner or later and if they do not they will find out eventually what is needed.
The medium sized cardboard carton was waiting for me to open and sort through the contents. My mother lived to the age of ninety eight, and it looked as though she never threw anything out that she received in the mail. I had brought it back with me from the storage unit in South Carolina. It contained paper of all sorts, including old photographs, that she had seen fit to keep for many years. Until I opened it I had no idea just how long those years had been.
Pujakins 