Posted 3-30-20
The rumors of the end of my Shawshank Re:Dementia series being dead are greatly exaggerated. š In fact, I have decided that I will continue to subtitle each article with this until the day we get to get mom out of solitary confinement (Out of “the hole”). After today’s article, penned by my Chief Human Resources Officer, I may not use any more movie quotes although many more could be mined from this movie. š Thank you, in advance, to Alex Cobb for writing this piece and for the many kind words within. Off we go:
It is a privilege and honor to guest in for Mark on this very personal written journey with his mother and the rest of his family as she – and they – live with her and her Alzheimer’s. I appreciate so much his authenticity and vulnerability and the willingness to make it available to one and all via this blog. I have particularly appreciated the past couple of weeks as Mark has taken the movie The Shawshank Redemption as his inspiration for this Digital Cornbread. The Shawshank Redemption is my favorite movie. I have watched it dozens and dozens of times and can quote every line. The music scene and the ending still move me powerfully every time I watch it. Every. Time. I have visited the actual prison where the movie was shot and, for me, it was like stepping on holy ground. Similarly, serving as a guest writer on this blog is walking on to a holy ground and I will attempt to treat it as such.
Mark has certainly hit on many of my favorite quotes and scenes from the movie over the past couple of weeks. He did, however, leave at least one of my favorite scenes and favorite quotes:
Link
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mSo6zgF_C00
“That’s all it takes really: pressure … and time.”
Andy had spent 20 years serving a prison sentence he didn’t deserve. The movie chronicles the various pressures Andy faced – beyond the crushing weight of false and cruel imprisonment – and how he endures and overcomes each of those pressures. Each of those acts of defiance and hope required courage and perseverance. Not all of those acts led to the outcome Andy might have wanted, but the hope inside him made him try nonetheless. In the face of horror and cruelty and corruption and genuine evil, Andy responded with hope and courage.
Not surprisingly, I would use many of these same words to describe my friend and brother Mark as I have observed his journey with his family over the past couple of years. Hope. Courage. Perseverance. In the face of a circumstance that should not be … that is not deserved in any way … I have seen him respond to this pressure multiplied over time with grace and love and hope.
Mark’s blog isn’t just a written record of his experience; it is a testament to hope in the face of darkness. Mark sets an example for us every day of how we can deal with the pressures we encounter … especially those that are “pressures over time.” I am encouraged every day by Mark’s example and this guest feature is just my way of saying “thank you” to him for setting such an honest and positive example of faith and courage.
#EndALZ
(The rest of this piece will be from a source equipped with around 30-40 fewer IQ points):
Thank you, Alex, for reminding me/us of that quote. The concept of “pressure over time” is extremely interesting in light of the “long goodbye” of dementia. As I have been careful before, I will continue to so in comparing illnesses. All terminal illnesses are horrible. š However, Dementia’s long duration—sometimes 10-20 years!–has caused many, if not most, full-time caregivers themselves to get sick. It is truly a time and pressure problem.
Last thought: Never being one to mind mixing my metaphors, off I go again. š This caregiving pressure, even as sort of a part-timer like I have been, reminds me a little of fishing in the rapids of a river. When you are fishing in still water, any pressure on your line is easy to feel. While it may surprise you, it does make sense. You have a pretty good idea that, if your line feels pressure (twitching, typically), you are getting a bite. This is how I fish…sitting on a bucket, feet propped up, listening to a ball game and waiting in expectation.
However, when you fish in a long run of rapids, your bait/hook is banging around, getting tugged by this rock and that weed and such. It is hard to even understand the pressure you are feeling. You can set the hook, thinking you have a fish, and actually get yourself more hung up on the rocks than ever. Time doesn’t even help much because you could be hung up or your bait could be swallowed all the way to the to the point of no return by a bored catfish…waiting around doesn’t help. The waters aren’t always a fast-moving type of rapid, but a slow moving one has the same problems.
In the end, I refuse to fish in the rapids, even though there are some great fish to be found there. It is maddening! Such are many days helping a loved one with this disease. “That’s all it takes really: pressure … and time.”…and you snap like a bound up monofilament fishing line. That is why we need a care team. I need help. You need help. We need help. Don’t go it alone, folks. Just don’t. I have written a couple of dozen articles here about gathering up a team. Please do it. Let me know if I can help. We are all in this mess together and there is truly strength in numbers. š
Bonus note: Dragging back the metaphor, kicking and screaming, back to where Alex masterfully started, I would also say that, if given long enough, the fast rapids will eventually wear down the rocks into slick, edgeless stones. Simple geology….The problem, ironically, is we don’t have enough time to wait. We can’t wait for the problem to take care of itself. Therefore we fight, we serve, we advocate, we donate, we help… The time is both too long and too short. š
Update: I will try to do a Facetime with mom again today or tomorrow. It isn’t the same, but it is better than nothing. All indications are that all is the same. š