Graceful Women: Why I went gray; or, conversations with Ed

The top post at Silver & Grace, based on search hits, is Gray hair can be beautiful and sexy. Here I briefly touch on my own decision to go gray, and display a photo of myself in all my gray haired glory.

It’s a hot topic, this going gray business. Hot enough for Anne Kreamer to write an entire book on it, which I reviewed and then gave away in a contest.

Andrea Squires was the lucky winner of the contest, and receipt of the book coincided with her own going gray transition. I asked Andrea to tell her going gray journey, and what she shared was incredible story of self acceptance.

Here is Andrea’s story:

I decided to let my hair go gray for the same reason I had changed my hair color a million times: I was bored.

Or so I thought.

As I went through the tedious and sometimes disturbing process of letting my reddish-brown hair turn to pepper-and-salt, it turned out that my reasons went deeper.  I had many pillow conversations about it with Ed, often at 3:00 am.

Ed always lets me know his opinions.  A head-butt means “more scratching, now” and a gentle bite means “shut up, I’m trying to sleep.”  Ed is 19, old for a cat, and did not get this far by letting the Meaning of Life interrupt his sleep.

In the end, letting my hair go gray is an outward sign of finally accepting me.  I’m 49, never married, no children, unless you count Ed (which he does).  As a young woman, I fell in love with theatre.  I struggled to make a living as a performer.  Gradually, I got tired of the road and ramen noodles, and settled to jobs in the computer industry.  I stayed in Dilbert-Land for close to a decade, gaining weight and feeling trapped.

Three years ago, something in me woke up.  On impulse, I applied for a dream job teaching presentation at a major museum—and got the job!  I moved to Virginia, and started performing in a storytelling program.

Through teaching and stories, I discovered my own voice.  As children and adults listened to me, I found that I valued myself.  There is a strong folk tradition that age is strength, not weakness.  From studying the stories of many cultures, I’m learning that age is an honorable, earned state and not a deficit.

Singlehood can be hard, as can the choice not to have children.  Over the years, when I felt internal or external pressures to find a mate, I was prey to what I call the magic “If …”

“If I were 30 pounds lighter I would be sexy …”

“If my hair were that color, I could look younger …”

“If I were more disciplined, I could (fill-in-the-blank) …”

Sound familiar?  I hated my body, my face, my hair, my personality … you name it, I thought it should change.  I lived for a magical time when all the “Ifs” would come true.  But that time never comes.  It’s a mirage.

So I’m working on losing the “Ifs”—all but one.  If I don’t try to appreciate who I am right now, warts and all, I will simply waste more of my precious life.

Ed would be biting my hand about now, so I’ll finish with my favorite moment from going gray.   A young hairstylist commented that if I didn’t color my hair I would “look older.”  Without really thinking about it, I smiled and said, “That’s OK with me.”

Your turn

Do you have a personal story to share? Silver & Grace is always looking for stories that turn the theory into reality. To submit your story click here.

Is there a topic related to the spiritual or physical aspect of aging gracefully that you would like to see covered? Please send post ideas to Eliza by using the Silver & Grace contact form.

Don’t miss out!

To make sure you don’t miss out on any of the topics and discussions, subscribe by RSS or Email

Graceful Women: Wait! I’m Too Young to Have Osteoporosis!

On another Graceful Women post, The gluten-free diet and osteoporosis, Betsy Wuebker mentioned that she was diagnosed with osteoporosis. In her comment, she talked about some of the contributing factors to this disease. Osteoporosis is an important concern for menopausal women, so I asked Betsy if she would elaborate on its causes and treatments.

Betsy is author of the blog Passing Thru, and here is her story:

Every Sunday morning I swallow a miracle.It’s a pill that may save my life, and definitely will restore my youth. The name of this wonder is alendronate sodium. I take it because, at age 55, I have the bone density of an 80-year-old. I’ve got full-blown osteoporosis.

While serious in someone my age, this diagnosis didn’t exactly come as a shock. My mother and her mother both had it. Their stooped, painful posture was what is still commonly referred to as “dowager’s hump.” They were literally incapable of standing up straight. With this family history, I always suspected I’d wind up with osteoporosis in my dotage, too. What I didn’t expect was that it would show up this early. I’m way too young, after all!

Six months ago, a series of somewhat alarming symptoms led me to consult with my OB-GYN. She ordered what seemed like an inordinate amount of blood work, did some exams, accelerated a colonoscopy appointment (did I have cancer?), and sent me in for scans. Within the space of a few weeks, I went from taking no medications other than an occasional aspirin and over the counter heartburn relief, to several daily prescriptions. I had high cholesterol, Gastroesophageal Reflux Disease , and a significant Vitamin D deficiency.

All of these conditions are fairly common, but I found the Vitamin D deficiency surprising. Anyone who looks at me will conclude I am hardly undernourished. How was I vitamin D deficient?It was explained: With all the concern about skin cancer, more folks are staying out of the sun. In colder climates, there is less sunlight during short days in winter. I’m a pale, pink person who always burns. I use a lot of sunscreen, and since pre-menopause, don’t tolerate excessive heat well, keeping me out of the sun even more. Add that to decreased milk intake from my inability to tolerate lactose, and bingo. I was prescribed a mega-dose of Vitamin D for six weeks.

In the meantime, my bone scan results came in, and I received a letter summoning me for a consult. “You have osteoporosis,” the letter said. “Please come in as soon as possible to begin a treatment plan.” Great.

My OB-GYN referred me to a rheumatologist when it was revealed most osteo drugs have the unfortunate side effect of increased heartburn. We both knew I needed no more of that. I was pleased to note the new doctor was on several “Best” lists, and his manner was kind and knowledgeable. “What we call the ‘neck of your hip’ and your lower back bones are so porous, you’re at extreme risk. We generally see this deterioration in someone in their 80’s, not their 50’s.” Swell.

Acting as though he had no other patients in the world besides me, he took the time to explain my options. “If you’re heartburn prone, your insurance still requires you to tough it out for a month before changing you to the more expensive annual injection. Plus you’re going to want a combination supplement – always take calcium with vitamin D. The vitamin D is the assist in absorption.” My circumstances – lactose intolerance, no milk, no sun, and no supplementation until now – had created the perfect storm for accelerated bone density loss.

“The good news is, with this drug your bone loss will rapidly arrest and then start to correct itself. Within two years, your bone density will be age appropriate, and you can go on a maintenance plan. Plus, with exercise, you can strengthen even further.” Awesome, a dispensation!

“Until then, whatever you do, do NOT fall. You’ll break a hip or fracture your back.” Jeez, okay. I’m already fearful carrying laundry down our scary basement stairs or walking on icy sidewalks. I’ll probably forego the bicycling I looked forward to this year, as I took a spill a couple of years ago which impacted my mobility for several weeks. It could have been much, much worse.

So . . . every week, I take my miracle pill that is going to restore my bones back to relative youth. Every day, I take my calcium + vitamin D to give these nutrients their best, life-saving shot. And every day, I get my hour’s exercise on a treadmill that’s only an inch or so above the ground, so there’s not far to fall. This is all easily achieved. What a simple fix to ensure I’m around for the next thirty years, when I’ll really be old!

Suggested Reading:

http://www.nof.org/osteoporosis/”>Osteoporosis: A debilitating disease that can be prevented and treatedhas a downloadable questionnaire

Osteoporosis Symptoms, Treatment, Causes, Prevention, Risk Factors and Diagnosis

Hormone Replacement Therapy now Contraindicated in Osteoporosis Treatment due to increased risks for breast cancer, heart attack, stroke and blood clots

The Mayo Clinic – Osteoporosis

Your turn

Do you have a personal story to share? Silver & Grace is always looking for stories that turn the theory into reality. To submit your story click here.

Is there a topic related to the spiritual or physical aspect of aging gracefully that you would like to see covered? Please send post ideas to Eliza by using the Silver & Grace contact form.

Don’t miss out!

To make sure you don’t miss out on any of the topics and discussions, subscribe by RSS or Email to Silver & Grace using the Subscribe feature at the top of the page.

Graceful Women: The social impact of body size

Nobody can question the unrealistic and unhealthy emphasis our society puts on body size. I think a jean size of zero is quite metaphoric. The health and welfare of the person inside those jeans means nothing, notta, zip.

I am as guilty as the next person. I struggle with body image. I am trim and athletic, but I constantly fight a fear of not being that one day. My size is part of my self-image. Despite the fact that rationally I know this is a ridiculous thought process. My spiritual and physical health are part of my image, not my size.

However, it never occurs to me to question another person’s size and weight. It’s a non-issue to me, so I was shocked when a reader left a comment on my post Surviving all the holiday food choices that her weight makes other people uncomfortable.

I want to thank Patrica, of Patricia’s Wisdom, for agreeing to share this very personal account of how she is treated by other people for being a larger woman. Here is her story:

One of the hardest things about being FAT or overweight is how uncomfortable one makes the people around them feel.

I wish I were not so heavy and I work very hard on my health and in working towards achieving a more “normal” or acceptable body size. My goal is to be the healthiest, whole person I can be.

I learned early on how physical appearance can make folks feel uncomfortable. Having had several rounds of cancer in my youth, I was witness to other folks concerned that they might “catch” it from me, and at that time most of the people who had cancer were dying or dead. It was a matter of no knowledge or inadequate information. Other children did not wish to stand next to me in choir for fear they would inhale this unknown- children often tell it like it is. All the scars made the locker room a nightmare experience in my self-conscious teens.

In 1994 after ovarian cancer surgery my body started protecting its self by putting on weight. I carry around about 95 extra pounds. I walk 5 miles daily, I have worked with dieticians and I stretch and lift weights. My thighs and upper arms are 3 clothing sizes bigger than my torso.

I am not funny or even jolly. I do not tell jokes all the time to keep folks from noticing my weight.

At public gatherings, people watch what I eat. I have found that unless I want to acknowledge some special dish or something the chef has prepared with individual care, I do not eat and I fill my glass with water.

People are afraid they will look like me. I feel their pain. I have had people come up to me after a dinner and say, “I did not know what to do, I saw you just put your folk on your plate and did not eat anything!” “Were you drinking straight vodka?”, one guest asked me at a party. One cannot miss that people are watching.

Men are often very overt in their feelings; one said to me, “Why did you let yourself go? You used to be so intelligent and pretty?” At the theatre one said, “you could move faster if you got that blubber off your butt.”

My presence makes people feel afraid that they will get large and out of control; that they will have to wear unfashionable clothing and learn standup comedy.

I usually get diet tips and exercise advice and information about the tricks that movie stars use. I even get referrals to plastic surgeons and spas that “really” work.

Being this size makes people afraid. They might become just like me. They would no longer be appealing. Everyone would know they are lazy.

I know I have lost job opportunities because of my appearance. I have very few clothes because I would rather look good and meet someone else’s standards in public than look sloppy and make them feel afraid.

The worst is the moment that the other decides that you are lying – making up and defending your lack of control and ugliness. This is also the moment, when I know yet another doctor has no answer and rather than fail – they are going to give up on me very soon.

Getting defensive just makes the stress hormones send the message to add more weight.

Only a few want to be seen with the “B List”.

What hurts the most still is that so many think the heavier you are the less intelligence one has.

A post script by Eliza: I normally post a photo of my Graceful Women. Patricia asked that I post a lady bug as it is her symbol of a woman recreating herself. I was very happy to do so.

Graceful Women: The gluten-free diet and osteoporosis

As we age, it becomes more important than ever to take responsibility for our own health and welfare. And sometimes this means a long and frustrating search to find out what is going on in our body.

Davina Haisell suffered for years with a misdiagnosis of Irritable Bowel Syndrome. Still not feeling any healthier, she kept searching until she discovered she had non-celiac gluten-intolerance. The first sentence in her story says it all about how she felt at the end of this health journey.

Davina can be found at Shades of Crimson, and this is her story:

Gluten-free me

I hung up the phone and danced into the hallway grinning. “The test result was positive. I’m gluten-intolerant.” I said.

My coworker looked puzzled, until I explained my strange response to the phone call.

For years I’d suffered from digestive problems that doctors labeled as Irritable Bowel Syndrome (IBS). I’d tried everything; digestive enzymes, probiotics, food combining, colonics, juice cleanses, dairy-free, sugar-free and wheat-free. Nothing helped.

My tummy looked swollen most of the time and I had other intestinal symptoms that I won’t discuss. I’d accepted that this was normal and tried to make the best of it.

Non-celiac gluten-intolerance

In my late 30s my dentist suggested I be tested for thyroid problems as my teeth were shrinking! This led me to have the blood test done for celiac disease; the result was negative.

Two years later I went to a seminar on the topic of non-celiac gluten-intolerance. The naturopath explained that a person can be sensitive to gluten, but not have the full-blown symptoms of celiac disease.

When a person who has celiac disease eats wheat or gluten-containing grains such as barley, rye, kamut and spelt, the continued immune response leads to a flattening of the intestinal villi.

Absorption of vitamins and minerals is reduced and a myriad of possible conditions can result: arthritis, crohn’s disease, diabetes mellitus, depression, asthma, thyroid disorders, eczema, infertility, anemia and osteoporosis, to name a few.

It is possible for a person to have an allergy to gluten but not have intestinal damage. It is also possible that antibodies are not prevalent in blood tests of people who have not yet developed full-blown celiac disease. There is still however, an immune response that occurs when gluten is ingested.

Saliva testing diagnosis

This naturopath was testing for gluten-intolerance using a saliva test. Apparently the antibodies can show up in the saliva and not the blood. I was hopeful that this might be the answer and I was right. The test was positive. Though I was not pleased to start the gluten-free diet, I was relieved to finally know what the problem was and what I could do about it.

My doctor ordered a bone density scan. The results showed that at the age of 40 I had the bone density of a 60-year-old (osteopenia), and was in the early stages of developing osteoporosis.

Two years after being on the gluten-free diet, a follow-up bone density scan showed an increase in bone density of 11%. I was thrilled, knowing I was on the right track.

The gluten-free diet

The gluten-free diet is not easy, but has become second nature after more than six years. There are a lot of gluten-free products on the shelves these days, including beer. Most are quite expensive and lacking in nutrition; but they’ll do in a pinch.

My recommendation is to stick with fresh fruits, vegetables, nuts, yogurt, meat, and grains such as quinoa, millet and rice. Staying away from packaged food is the safest bet, but reading food labels has also become second nature.

Wheat-free doesn’t mean gluten-free; rye, barley, spelt, kamut and oats (depending on processing) all contain gluten. Gluten is also found in soy sauce, barley malt that is in many chocolates, some corn chips, and licorice. These are just a few of the hidden sources of gluten.

Eating out means asking a lot of questions, though I continue to be surprised at how many restaurants have knowledge of the gluten-free diet these days.

For more information visit the Canadian Celiac Association at www.celiac.ca or Celiac Spru Association www.csaceliacs.org

Suggested reading:
Dangerous Grains by James Braly and Ron Hoggan
Wheat-Free, Worry-Free by Danna Korn

Both books are available for purchase through Amazon by clicking the Silver & Grace book recommendations.

Graceful Women: Second Chances

For my post on Empty Nest Syndrome is very real, Wendi Kelly wrote:

My first batch are now 27 and 32 and when I got here the first time, I chickened out as I saw empty nest syndrome coming down the road and started over! …and my grandaughter and my daughter are only a few months apart.

This intrigued me, and could easily have been me. By the time I was in my early thirties, my children had entered their teen years. Had the man I was with been the right man for me, I would have started over myself.

Wendi is author of Life’s Little Inspirations, and here is her story on second chances:

My life as a parent began early at sixteen. Being a single mother meant working two jobs while putting myself through school, living on my own, and surviving on a thimble’s worth of sleep.

My twenties flew past in a blur of young marriage, a second child, diapers, kindergarten, my own continued education, divorce, my oldest in junior high, a continual lack of sleep and finally-that moment I had been waiting for, the day I turned thirty and both of my children were old enough to take care of themselves long enough for mom to take a deep breath.

With my thirties came a new marriage and a more relaxed lifestyle that meant I was finally able to be the relaxed fun parent I had always imagined myself to be in the recesses of my mind.

Except that by then, the little children I imagined having that life with had grown. They were independent teenagers and no more interested in spending their time with mom then getting their tonsils out. Don’t get me wrong, my children and I had a wonderful relationship yet still, I became acutely aware of just exactly how much I had missed during all the struggling along the way.

I remember a particular Christmas morning, wrapping paper strewn about the floor and gifts all opened, I looked at my two beaming children and the moment freeze-framed in my mind. I was thirty-two years old. My two children were already sixteen and eleven. There was no more Santa, no more baby powder fresh children to tuck in at night.

The years were rushing by and my kids were rushing with them. Empty Nest Syndrome was looming in the not too distant future and I just…couldn’t…face it. My life had finally settled down into a grown-up normal world and by the time I got there, I had missed…everything.

However, it didn’t have to stay that way. My new husband wanted children of his own, so together we made the decision to begin again. At thirty-four our son was born. At age thirty-seven, I became pregnant once again, with a little girl.

Life has a funny way of throwing curve balls when we least expect it. While I was busy starting over, my oldest daughter was busy starting out. So at age 20, newly married, she also became pregnant, a few months after me- with my future granddaughter.

Yes, we endured the jokes about the Father of the Bride part two movie, and yes, we were both at the same hospital with the same doctor, but thankfully, we had six months apart to soften the edge.

Life also has a funny way of working things out if you step aside and let it.

Last night, we had all the kids over. My two oldest, their spouses and the grandkids. (There are now two) The two girls, growing up more like sisters then aunt and niece are off to play.

My youngest son is getting ready for his first homecoming dance and has his older brother and sister right there with all the tips and advice he could ever need and saying all the things he would never want to hear from good old mom and dad.

I look around, and the house is warm, cheery, full of laughter and love. Funny, my two youngest are twelve and fifteen and once again Empty Nest Syndrome is looming in the future. The family has grown. I know in my heart that they will always come home. I smile, content. This time I am ready.
 

 

 

Graceful Women: You are an Empty Nester when …

Linda Abbit responded to my Empty Nest post by pointing out that you can get hit with the double whammy of Empty Nest and losing a parent.

I *thought* I had gone through empty nest syndrome when our son left for college in the Fall of 07, but now I’m not so sure. I was busy caregiving my mom, and now that she passed away in May, I have this intuition that it’s just beginning. I’ve been a big mess of emotions and tears since then, but will sort it out I’m sure. I know I have to give my self time to process these huge changes in my life.

I loved her openess in expressing her emotions, and the fact that she was being realistic about the time needed to heal. A perfect Graceful Women Series candidate.

I would say from her wonderful words below that she is well on the road to adjustment, and in typical Linda fashion has flipped a painful period in her life into something fun and playful.

Linda is the author of Tender Loving Eldercare and here is how she knows she truly is an Empty Nester:

You Know You’re an Empty Nester When . . .

1. You create a Facebook profile as a new means of communicating with your children

2. You decide texting isn’t so hard to do after all

3. You are thrilled when your children call you before you call them

4. You throw away food you and your husband haven’t been able to eat before it spoiled

5. Your electric and water bills drop significantly

6. You miss doing their loads of laundry . . . NOT!!

7. Your wallet mysteriously stays full of money for days on end

8. You can actually fall asleep without worrying what time they will get home

9. Your children say they miss you and even thank you at times

10. You don’t have to lock your bedroom door any longer

Graceful Women: A Deeper Connection

Through my review of the DivaCup, I was fortunate enough to be contacted by the co-founders of Lunapads, Suzanne Siemens and Madeleine Shaw. Wanting to know more about these women, whose philosophy on women’s health and environmental health matched that of Silver & Grace, I read their bios.  This statement about Madeleine jumped off the page at me:

“Switching from tampons to cloth pads brought her the unexpected benefit of discovering a deeper connection with her body”.

I immediately knew I had to have her write a Graceful Women’s post. I am honoured that she accepted my request.  Here is Madeleine’s story.

Connecting with my fertility cycle

 As someone who has built a 17 year career in the field of women’s fertility cycles, I have taken a particular interest in my own cycle and how my relationship to it has changed through my teens, 20s, 30s and now 40s. 

Coming of age as a young woman I was fascinated by menstruation and was an avid reader of Judy Blume’s classic Are you there God? It’s me, Margaret.  The magic of being an adult woman absolutely tantalized me and I could hardly wait to be initiated into its beautiful, powerful mystery.  Menarche itself, however, was painful and unheralded by celebration.

I started using tampons pretty much immediately, and within a few years added birth control pills to my monthly routine. Even as a self-proclaimed feminist in my late teens and early 20s, I never questioned the potential downsides of either of these choices.  It simply felt like the modern, convenient thing to do: freeing even, to have such “control over” and “protection from” my own body.  In hindsight I am appalled at how thoroughly brainwashed I was.  And as for any health or environmental implications, they simply never entered my mind.

When I finally realized that my recurrent bladder infections were connected to my use of tampons, I was in my mid 20s, and I was about as disconnected from my cycle as I could be.  Going off the pill and switching to washable menstrual pads coincided to bring about a profound change: for the first time in my adult life I was actually experiencing my unmitigated, complete cycle from start to finish.  After a few months I was amazed by how different I felt, and literally wept with regret over the years I had abandoned my body and the wisdom that my girl-self had known was there all along.

By chance at about that time I came across a powerful article called The Truth About Tamponsand learned about the environmental impact of disposable pads and tampons, as well as questionable health and regulatory issues, particularly with respect to tampons.  I created a business venture to manufacture alternative products that were reusable and “birthed” Lunapads in 1993 at the age of 25.  I continued my journey to go deeper with my cycle, attending Goddess rituals, reading extensively and reaching out to other women via the internet.

 My 30s brought about yet another major change – just as I had started formally charting my cycle I discovered that I was pregnant with my daughter.  Saying goodbye to my cycle for a while ironically made me all the more grateful for it, feeling for the first time its true purpose and power.  By the time my period resumed over 2 years later I felt as though I was hitting menarche all over again, but this time from a healed, empowered perspective – it felt wonderful.

In the last few years I have noticed that things are shifting yet again and I am unquestionably feeling the onset of peri-menopause.  My period itself remains relatively problem-free, but for about 10 days immediately preceding it I am beset with cramps, moodiness and aching breasts.  The upside is that for the rest of the month I have abundant energy.

What does my body need during this change, what can I learn, and how can I support myself?  With the help of a progressive family doctor, naturopath, massage therapist and simply paying gentle attention to my body, I hope to be able to continue to reap the gifts of my cycle.  And when my cycle finally ceases, I hope I move through the next phase of womanhood with an equal amount of care and grace.

 Madeleine Shaw is co-founder of Lunapads International (www.lunapads.com), the web’s finest collection of natural menstrual products.  She lives in Vancouver Canada with her family.

Graceful Women: Taking Care of Mom

Welcome to the very first in my Graceful Women Series. Stories where we move past the theory, and hear how women really experience life after forty.

I am honoured to have Lori Hoeck, from Think Like A Black Belt, share her story on Taking Care of Mom.

*************

Most of my life, my mother had more physical stamina than most men. Even when camping in her seventies, she’d rise first, start the campfire, and make coffee for everyone. Horses obeyed her, fish feared her, and the outdoors gave her strength.

Recently my mother, now 80 and diagnosed with both Alzheimer’s and dementia, fell out of bed and had to get x-rays at the ER. As of 6 months ago, she couldn’t figure out how to make coffee. She often confuses her television remote with her cell phone. Her short-term memory loss can be as short as 30 seconds, yet she’ll fixate for days over something worrying her. In the last year I had to take charge of all her finances, medical care, and dietary needs.

 I am now my mother’s mom.

At first, the realities of my mother’s decline felt like being gut punched every day. Then I became a yo-yo between hopeless depression and small moments of surrender, grace, and understanding. Thankfully I finally surrendered this situation to Jesus Christ, and I fall into the latter category more and more often. It’s because God is teaching me:

• Compassion and patience comes from letting go of agendas and ego
• Love grows as we lessen our fears, denial, and excuses
• Kindness blossoms when we see others as no different than ourselves

The last lesson is hard. It’s simply too easy to see people with Alzheimer’s and dementia as different not only from normal people, but also from their old selves. But they really aren’t that different. We all need love and appreciation. The best way I can sum this up is by including a tale adapted from the Brothers Grimm:

Grandmother’s Table

Once there was a feeble old woman whose husband died and left her all alone, so she went to live with her son and his wife and their own little daughter.

Every day the old woman’s sight dimmed and her hearing grew worse, and sometimes at dinner her hands trembled so badly the peas rolled off her spoon or the soup ran from her cup. The son and his wife could not help but be annoyed at the way she spilled her meal all over the table.

And one day, after she knocked over a glass of milk, they told each other that enough is enough. They set up a small table for her in the corner next to the broom closet and made the old woman eat her meals there. She sat all alone, looking with tear-filled eyes across the room at the others. Sometimes they spoke to her while they ate, but usually it was to scold her for dropping a bowl or a fork.

One evening just before dinner, the little girl was busy playing on the floor with her building blocks, and her father asked her what she was making. “I’m building a little table for you and mother,” she smiled, “so you can eat by yourselves in the corner someday when I get big.”

Her parents sat staring at her for some time and then suddenly both began to cry. That night they led the old woman back to her place at the big table.

From then on she ate with the rest of the family, and her son and his wife never seemed to mind a bit when she spilled something every now and then.

—-

Caregiving is a gift. It is the opportunity to look deep inside ourselves to find patience, compassion, love, peace, and clarity. Tough journey, yes, but great is the reward.