Maybe this is a good time to check out a multi-cultural event on the topic of Resilience. I am so honored to be selected to participate in this event. It’s the first time the Toronto, Canada event must go virtual so it will be exciting. I have also wanted to participate in this amazing Speaker Slam and if you want to watch, I would love to have you there! Discounted tickets through today. Love you all.
I’m TRYING. I don’t even know what to say these days. I will tell you that things that used to be annoying are starting to make me laugh…sometimes uncontrollably. Uh, maybe it’s just hysteria or the need to laugh instead of tear up.
The usual for everyone, my hair, my boring food, my nails, my eyebrows, my boring conversations….with myself, my sweatsuits, my yoga pants, my college t-shirts, my mismatched socks, my mustache, my diet, my un-cleaned out closets, my husband, my mother, my kids, my blog, my email, my Zooming, my Facebook page, my Twitter, my friends, my “friends,” my toenails, my hairy legs, my dry skin, my oh my, oh my.
So for you, I hope you get at least a smile……..
Technology has now become essential to our well-being, right? After all, this is how we are staying in touch and trying desperately to keep the loneliness at bay. Not to mention meeting, after meeting, after meeting on Zoom. So now everyone needs to embrace more technology just to keep going.
My 91-year-old Mom is no exception. She begrudgingly engages with her smartphone and computer so that she can stay up-to-date, see photos of her tribe of grandchildren and great-grandchildren, and yes, keep in touch with her friends who have also become self-taught IT people.
I am beyond proud of her continuing efforts, resilience, and brilliance in a world that wants to race past her at lightning speed, where she says, “whoa, Nellie! Hold on there, I’m not giving up!” And she does not.
A couple of weeks ago we had to add on-line banking to her list of chores. We held off for as long as humanly possible, but with no access to tellers, she really wanted more access to what was going on in her accounts. This is smart and I applaud her moxie. Yes, I said moxie.
I managed to get her set-up pretty quickly, but first, the bank said: “Whoa Nellie! You need to make this damn secure!” A concept we are all in favor of, n’est-ces pas? (I forgot to put my French classes up in that godforsaken list up there).
In order to maximize safety, my mom had to utilize four security questions to protect her account access. Four. Four is a lot of security in my mom’s mind. This is how it went:
Me: “Mom, you need to set up some security questions.”
Mom: “Okay, what are the questions?”
Me: “Well, let’s see. Here are some examples: “:
1. What is the first and last name of your kindergarten teacher:
Mom: “Uh, there was no kindergarten for me in 1933. Next!”
Me: “Okay, look we can make up a question. How about this: Where did Margaret first live? ”
Mom: “Where?”
Me: “What do you mean, ‘where?’ That’s the question.”
Mom: “What’s the question?”
Me: “Your mom, Margaret. Where did she first live? ”
Mom: “Where? ”
With tears of laughter running down our cheeks, it took us an hour to come up with four questions and answers that didn’t sound like “who’s on first?”
This is where technology will take you, my friends. And let me tell you my Mom deserves a gold medal for refusing to give up. Imagine what it will be like when we are nonagenarians:
My kid: “Mom just tell the super-duper micro coffee make to ‘brew coffee!'”
Me: “I’ve been telling that damn thing to make coffee for two hours now! It just stares at me with all it’s lights and touchpads and sexy red dress and says, “I don’t understand what you want.” I’ll tell you what I want, I want my old coffee pot and a damn cup of coffee!”
My kid: “Mom, you have to say ‘BREW COFFEE’ not I want a damn cup of coffee.”
Me: Oh. Never mind.
“You just have to Laugh……even in a lockdown…….please, just keep laughing, it’s important.
©2020 Cathy Sikorski
I have the privilege of knowing so many wonderful people in the caregiving space and I would like to introduce you to them on a regular basis. My new series: Be Our Guest! starts today with Lorri Bernstein. Lorri is a Senior Living Specialist in Pennsylvania. I’ll let her tell you about her work and how perhaps she can help you or someone you know! Be nice to Lorri…this is her first blog post! Welcome, Lorri!
In my years working as a Social Worker and in Senior Living, I have seen most of the ways that aging can affect us. Some aspects are sweet like the appreciation and enjoyment we build for simple human connections. Others take away our sense of independence, digity or have us clinging on to memories of the past.
While I relish the sweet aspects of aging, it is in spending time and connecting with seniors who find themselves in the dark spaces, that I find the special gifts of each person.
In 2018, I went to the home of a client, we will call her “Mrs. Z”. It was a beautiful Old-English style house in Philadelphia, a complete semblance of the inside where every inch of space was stacked floor to ceiling with Mrs. Z’ troves of the past. We spent hours going through each item, doing as what people call nowadays, a total Marie Kondo. Each item had an identity, but most did not directly relate to her own story. After days of cleaning out the house, we identified which treasures had the most value; I learned the stories behind each valuable, and Mrs. Z lightened her load. She was ready for the next chapter and finally looked forward to something new.
I value the time I spend with my clients, whatever this entails, whether cleaning out their homes, helping them schedule doctor appointments, coffee runs, facility tours or grocery shopping. Just the other day, I was helping a client pick up groceries. At the end of our trip, she said it was the best day of her year because she loved our conversations and that the groceries were just a reason to get in touch. Others, like this client and Mrs. Z, still hold an exuberance for life, but seek people with whom they can share it. It warms my heart that clients share their stories with me, but I am even more fulfilled when I can help them find their next chapter.
When I went to visit Mrs. Z at her new senior community home, I saw a shining transformation: she was making new friends and partaking in new hobbies that she never before thought of trying. Other clients told me how moving to a community brought them new friends, new conversations, and a revitalized outlook on life. It is because of this impact that I continue through Senior Living Specialists to ally and support members of our community to find involvement and care at an older age.
It is often hard to decide what is best for the future whether it relates to our aging selves or someone we love, but having a shoulder to lean on and the right information to make informed decisions enables us to build the best case scenario for the future – even during a time of crisis. I have years of developed expertise to answer your questions and help each family determine the best next steps. However, that is just the technical side of my job. The beauty in my work comes from the lasting relationships I build with each person and the efflorescence of each loved senior rediscovering themselves in a new home.
Lorri Bernstein, MSW
Senior Living Specialists
717.648.6319 lorri@seniorlivingspecialistsphilly.com
Who isn’t trying to take the high road these days? I think most of us are, just by getting out of bed. The fact that I live with someone is a very good thing. I wonder how my days would unwind if there was no one here watching me. Yes, I said watching me. But it isn’t my husband who is watching me. It’s me watching my husband who I think is watching me.
As complex as that sounds, I know you get it. We create a false narrative that arises from the Catholic-school-guilt or the My-mom-is-a-Depression-Era-baby-guilt or the If-I’m-not-productive-I’m-a-slug-guilt. In my case, it’s the “my-husband-is-around-here-somewhere- so-I-better-look-like-I’m-doing-something”….story.
I convinced myself this was just all in my head. That he didn’t really mind that the laundry was in the baskets for three weeks because I’m wearing the same fuzzy Harry Potter Pajamas most days. That he didn’t really mind the notebooks in every room in the house because I pick up a pen and write when the spirit moves….which could be any hour of any day. That the guest room is now my other other extra room to hide-in, hoard-in, hibernate-in at designated nap time every, single damn day.
This morning, as we were waking to the birds singing in the trees, the wind blowing the pink dogwood petals softly to the ground, the sun peeking out through the high branches of the tulip poplars. My husband whispered to me for the first time in 35 years: “Your hair smells good!”
So…………I guess he does notice. Showering might be a new rule. It was an old rule but somehow got lost in the coronashuffle.
In the alternative, I have noticed that my husband works very hard to stay out of my hair. He is retired. So there’s no working from home during the pandemic for him. He is free to create his own world within the confines of our house, yard, driveway, and mailbox. Picking up sticks is one of his fortes this spring. He is definitely running out of ideas. And I won’t tell a lie. I like being in my workspace with no one around. I’ve been working from home for eons, this new normal with someone else here 24-7 isn’t my favorite. Again, my own mentality, but I spend a lot of time in my own head. No one else wants to be there, trust me.
So there was a bit of hope in the news yesterday.
Tomorrow the golf courses are opening in our state with very strict regulations. And mine are even stricter. Basically, I read the rules for golf course opening and was pretty surprised, in a good way. Only one man to a cart, no touching the flagstick, the ball will not fall into the hole, only handling your own clubs, staying 6 feet or more apart from all other players at all times, and lots of sanitizing, lots and lots of sanitizing. So, it sounds like a walk in the park. Which is what we have been doing occasionally, anyway…walking in the park. But boys will be boys. I’m sorry, they are knuckleheads. They take pride in their knuckleheadedness. So I have one strict rule which was to be the title of this blog, but I thought better of it.
Cathy’s Rule for Coronagolf:
I had to tell my husband: “You are not allowed to touch your friends’ balls.”
“You Just have to Laugh…………..and stick to the rules.”
©Cathy Sikorski 2020