...we'll muddle through somehow...

I have been thinking about time machines lately. What if I could go back to one day just for a bit and not interrupt anything but just live that day harder than before? The thing is I actually try to appreciate every day. Before the pandemic, I would say “TGIT” (Thank God it’s Tuesday) in class with my students because why live for Fridays or weekends? We might not even make it until the weekend. 

I remember the first day I was a teacher. I had graduated, completed a practicum and a student-teaching internship; I was as prepared as a teacher can be in this country. A super uncomfortable event occurred, and I immediately thought, “shit, get the teacher” which quickly changed in my head to “shit, I am the teacher.” After that moment, I realized no one really knows what to do in times of crisis. No one actually teaches us how to be adults. We just try our best. 

Since August when I made my last update post, I have been trying my best. That doesn’t read quite as scary as it’s been on this end. To make a very long story short, or to condense the last five months, my mother, who has struggled with her mental health, now has dementia. In the last few months, I’ve only started to understand dementia. My mother has had visual and auditory hallucinations, confusion, and an inability to pay attention to someone or something. She’s had sleep difficulties, apathy, and depression. My mother stopped recognizing my father. This was probably the most devastating aspect of her diagnosis to him. I just keep thinking how fortunate we are that she did not hit my father on the head with a hammer while he was sleeping, which is what she revealed to me later. In fact, she told me exactly how she was going to kill the man whom she ominously said, “that’s not your father.” 

Without much guidance and a whole lot of confusion, I was able to find assisted living with memory care. I could rant about American health care and how we treat elders but what’s the point. My working-class family saved all their money and lived like ants (as opposed to grasshoppers-- see the Aesop Fables if you’re not sure what I mean) only to have it all drained away. But we’re lucky. I’ll keep saying that because it could have been worse... it still could be worse. The last five months have proven that life gets worse. 

My mother-in-law’s kidneys failed and within a month, she has moved from her home being an independent woman living alone and caring for herself to a woman who is dying in hospice care. Even hospice care isn’t what I imagined nor is palliative care in this country. But we’re lucky that we have *vacation* time to use so that we can be there by her side. 

When my father’s visit to my mother became so stressful one day that his blood sugar dropped, a security guard found him parked on the side of the road. But we’re lucky that he had pulled over and not killed someone or himself.  

It’s been a hectic last half of the year. I’ve been medicated for stress that was affecting my blood pressure; I’ve started to dehoard my parents’ home (I was even able to make room for a Christmas tree. The first one in over 15 years. It's little but mighty). I’ve been journaling like mad and focusing on exactly what needs to get done. I’ve accepted that this is the new normal. I hate that phrase when it comes to the pandemic but having Silent Generation parents means that I have new responsibilities as a caregiver. As long as I have a plan, I’m okay. My plans keep changing and that’s okay too. I’m just trying my best and trying to muddle through somehow.

... things that have never been...

 

I picked up that old book again- the one that I return to from time to time. It has me thinking about the year. I have eight months before I have to physically leave my home to return to work. What do I want life to look like this year? What changes do I wish to make? How will I be the best version of myself?

I’m sitting on the front porch as I write this. I pause to watch a squirrel play. This morning, I watched another squirrel carry a branch much larger than him to his nest. The nest looks like it couldn’t possibly be stable. It’s in the branches of a small Ash tree. The nest is as big as a cauldron. I’m sure squirrels know the ways of trees much better than I do. I’m thrilled to watch them continue to dislodge the old ivy vines that once suffocated our poor trees when we moved in. This place has transformed; it has transformed me. The yard is finally looking like a garden after being here for just two years.

Reflecting on what went right this year—I stayed home, I spent an amazing amount of time with my fella, and I saved money, enough so that I will be renovating my bathroom sometime this year. I even bought a garden window for my bathroom. Also, I’m excited about my current research project—an idea that organically came to me in late summer and one that I had to pause for many reasons. I have been quite focused on it this last week and I am nearing the halfway point. Yesterday I read the introduction to my fella and he said it was the best writing I’ve done- so clear in focus and so passionate.

Other thoughts swirling through my head…

I think I need to reduce social media and probably return here. Those people are not my friends. They make me mad and raise my blood pressure, which I need to reduce anyway. I was born a worrier and stress radiates through my veins. I breathe in deeply and exhale. I return to worry. This isn’t healthy so I am working on finding a better way.  

For 2020, I walked 378 miles, which wasn’t too shabby considering I had pneumonia that knocked me out, mostly because of the medicine. I had a 13-week cough that I kept trying to tell myself was allergies. No one really wanted to head to the doctor with a cough in 2020, although I knew I didn’t have Covid. We have been home, socially-distanced for (pauses to check calculator website) 295 days. I have gone to fewer than six places including the doctor’s office twice. We’re fortunate we have access to grocery delivery. My fella had been working from home for about a year so his life didn’t change much, and he is thrilled we don’t have to go grocery shopping. Sometimes you end up with a tiny zucchini or broccoli that is much larger than you expected. Small complaints for convenience and helping by giving space to others. Plus, I was a self-diagnosed germophobe before any of this. And, we’re introverts who really are not so fond of people. I worry about my extrovert friends; I realize this is very hard for them. For me, it feels like an amazing commuting sabbatical and a glorious mid-career change. I try not to smile too much as the numbers of dead increase daily. 

I read a statistic right before Christmas that in the time it takes to listen to Bing Crosby’s “White Christmas” nearly five Americans die from the virus. The more contagious strain has hit the East Coast (Florida). Scary times, y’all. I hope you’re all safe and making safe choices.  

...cemetery tours, the American Sycamore, and a giant candy cane...

I never wanted to be a teacher when I was young. I was not even convinced until I started graduate school. Growing up, I had friends whose parents were teachers and they always had homework. I did not think I wanted a life with homework.

From as far back as I can remember, I wanted to be a tour guide. I had dreams of moving to big cities and carrying an umbrella through a crowd so that the patrons could follow me. It just was not a job that the career services folks ever mentioned but I did not give up so easily. When I was 17, I was hired at a local theme park to give tours of the wild life preserve. I drove a monorail while talking about the animals. It was a twenty-minute ride and I spoke the entire time. That was thirty years ago but I can still remember some of my spiel. In undergrad, I volunteered at the Poe Museum in Richmond, Virginia and gave tours around the property. While I still very much love that museum, I did not love the job because it required me to be inside. I preferred giving tours where I could be outdoors more than indoors.

In 2014, I started training to give historic tours in Richmond. What I really wanted to do was give tours of historic Hollywood Cemetery; so, I did. Even better, instead of working for a tour company, I worked out a plan with their Friends organization and for several years now I have been offering tours where all the proceeds go to the historic preservation of the cemetery. 

2019 was a pretty great year for tours. I started giving evening/night tours of the cemetery, which turned out to be one of my favorite tours to give because Virginia summers are so brutal. While I pride myself on a good shade tour during the day, even the shade can be a bit too much for guests. 

Hollywood is a 135-acre garden cemetery full of life. During the evening tours, we saw bats, fox, and deer. With the night tours and one organization booking me as a guide, I raised $850. This morning, I wrote a check for the Christmas Eve's Eve tours, which came to $700. On December 23^rd, I offered our third annual Christmas tour. This year, I scheduled three tours beginning at 9am. On that morning tour, I was startled by a deer who was startled by me. For a moment, I nearly mistook the deer as a Christmas display.

Hollywood was designed with the living in mind and it was intended to be a place for those in Richmond to escape the hustle and bustle of city life. While many come to visit the cemetery for the historic figures buried here, many visit the trees that were left untouched by landscape designer John Notman in 1847.  

Along with the evening tours, I love the Christmas Eve's Eve tour because it helps folks escape the Christmas frenzy; and, I love seeing the holly trees, which is where Hollywood's name derives. Without question, my favorite this time of year is the American Sycamore tree. It has exfoliating white bark that peels and curls from the trunk in patches. In winter, this tree is stunning and my picture does not do it justice.

Being able to help raise money for the cemetery is such a privilege and one that I take quite seriously even though on the Christmas tours I carry a giant candy cane. These tours are also what I feel most proud of doing in 2019. Beyond the academic accomplishments through my workplace and various publications, somehow conducting research on a place that one loves doesn’t feel like homework. I love to learn and I try to share that love on my tours.