• From Another Perspective:  Comments from contemporary Guatemalan shaman, Martin Pechtel about how the adversities within our life offer hope for the future.
  

• From a Lighter Aire:  A couple of gentle pieces designed to create a smile, and some questionable Easter "left overs".
  

•  Stirring the Spirit Within:  Things going wrong for you?  Do you know what P.U.S.H. stands for?  This simple story explains the important meaning for this acronym.

• Nature's Calendar:  As spring approaches, Anne's thoughts (and pen) recall her childhood experiences of her "caregiver" Grandfather Stevenson, planning and planting his garden.   
  

• Obtaining Respite:  After the conclusion of his five year stint as caregiver for his parents, this Michigan resident and his wife developed a volunteer caregiver relief program in their community.  Could your community do the same for you?
  

• The Teacher Within:  Gary shares some of his awarenesses gained from studying the intuitive nature of the white tailed deer.  
  

• Gathering Caregiver Legislative Power:  New postings from www.caregiverscount.com regarding pending federal legislation we, as caregivers, should support.  

• Suggested Reading at www.caregivercompanion.com:  The Cab Ride

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.... the house that a person sleeps in must be very beautiful and sturdy, but not so sturdy that it won't fall apart after a while.  If your house doesn't fall apart, then there will be no reason to renew it.  And it is this renewability that makes something valuable.  

From an interview between contemporary Guatemalan shaman, Martin Pechtel and Derrick Jensen (published in our favorite literary mag, The Sun, Issue 304, The Sun Publishing Co, Inc. 107 N. Robertson St., Chapel Hill, NC 27516, (919) 942-5282.

 Mr. Pechtel is speaking of the need for his tribe's homes to literally fall down.  This continually brought his people together again socially as they rebuilt each others' homes.  However, with the advent of modern building supplies, the homes were not deteriorating, and his people were loosing their social caring for each other.  

I was struck as I applied his awareness to our work as caregivers.  The security of our anticipated Ozzie and Harriet "home" falls down around us and the responsibilities of caregiving move in.  As a result, we are forced into building even more meaningful and new "homes" in our relationships with our loved one, and those who assist us with our caregiving responsibilities.

While I find it easy to suggest Mr. Pechtel's wisdom to others, I have difficulty living by it myself.  I am quick to paint and keep up the exterior of my dwelling and not let others know of the deterioration occurring within its walls.  

Perhaps I am the "victim" of our self-sufficient society, and I am avoiding the opportunity for my house to fall down in front of others.  I wonder how much more it will take before I am really willing to open up and allow others to administer to me.  Maybe that's what The Caregiver Companion is all about.  

Lake Michigan's sand sculpture from our recent silent retreat last week at Holland, MI.

A visual expression of  how nature is constantly in process . . . . modifying its form . . . adapting to the surroundings.  

A life lesson for us all!

Over the great front doors of an old church being restored was inscribed in stone: "This is the Gate of Heaven".  Just below it, someone had placed a small cardboard sign which read "Use other entrance".

A member of his congregation told Rev. Warren J. Keating, pastor of First Presbyterian Church, Yuma, AZ, that this was the best prayer he ever heard:  "Dear God, please help me be the person my dog thinks I am".

These two pieces arrived in a recent note from our friend, "care receiver" (stroke patient), and writer, Dorothea Ellsworth.  Her story of learning to live with her handicap (plus some of her poetry and descriptions of her books) can be found at our WHO ARE YOU? topic at Caregiver, Dorothea Ellsworth

What do you do with all those left over Easter eggs with their cracked shells, and dyed interiors?  

In a similar manner, these post Easter epithets arrived by my E-mail, and I didn't know what to do with them.  I was afraid this drivel would clog up my hard drive garbage disposal in my Recycle Bin if I deleted them.  So here they are.  

Just to let you know that everyone is entitled to a bad hare day, and . . .

let happy thoughts multiply like rabbits,
and . . . 

that some body parts should be floppy, 
and . . . 

there is no such thing as too much candy, 
and . . .

don't put all of your eggs in one basket, 
and . . .

walk softly and carry a big carrot, 
and . . .

everyone needs a friend who is all ears.  

The contributing friend (perhaps I should refer to her association more loosely) refused to allow me to give her credit for submitting them.  She signed off with the following message.

Don't blame these on me.  One of my silly funny bunny friends sent them to me.  There was no way I was going to show my true
colors and come out of my shell and send them to anyone but you!

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Stirring the Spirit Within

 

Do you know what P.U.S.H stands for?  This is the second time in recent weeks I have received this directive, and I think I am beginning to get the message.  In case you have not received these instructions, I have included them as food for your thoughts.  

(Author unknown) 

A man was sleeping at night in his cabin when suddenly his room filled with light, and the Lord appeared.  The Lord told the man he had work for him to do, and showed him a large rock in front of his cabin.  The Lord explained that the man was to push against the rock with all his might. 

This the man did, day after day.  For many years he toiled from sunup to sundown, his shoulders set squarely against the cold, massive surface of the unmoving rock, pushing with all his might.  

Each night the man returned to his cabin sore, and worn out, feeling that his whole day had been spent in vain.

Since the man was showing signs of discouragement, the Devil decided he might be gaining a convert, and he entered the picture by placing his thoughts into the man's weary mind: 

You have been pushing against that rock for a long time, and it hasn't budged.  Why kill yourself over this?  You are never going to move it.  (Thus, giving the man the impression that the task was impossible and that he was a failure.)

These thoughts discouraged and disheartened the man. 

Why kill myself over this? I'll just put in my time, giving just the minimum effort; and that will be good enough.

However, before proceeding with this decision, he decided to make it a matter of prayer and take his troubled thoughts to the Lord. 

Lord, I have labored long and hard in your service, putting all my strength to do that which you have asked.  Yet, after all this time, I have not even budged that rock by half a millimeter. What is wrong? Why am I failing?

The Lord responded compassionately, 

"My friend, when I asked you to serve me and you accepted, I told you that your task was to push against the rock with all your strength, which you have done.

Never once did I mention to you that I expected you to move it.  Your task was to push.  And now you come to me with your strength spent, thinking that you have failed.  But is that really so?  

Look at yourself.  Your arms are strong and muscled, your back is sinewy and brown, your hands are callused from constant pressure, and your legs have become massive and hard.

Through opposition you have grown much, and your abilities now surpass that which you used to have.  Yet you haven't moved the rock.  

But your calling was to be obedient and to push and to exercise your faith and trust in My wisdom.  This you have done.  I, my friend, will now move the rock."

At times, when we hear a word from the Lord, we tend to use our own intellect to decipher what He wants, when actually what the Lord wants is just simple obedience and faith in Him....  By all means, exercise the faith that moves mountains, but know that it is still the Lord who moves the mountains.

Now, your instructions from the Lord:

 When everything seems to go wrong ... just P.U.S.H.!

 When the job gets you down ... just P.U.S.H.!

 When people don't react the way you think they should ... just P.U.S.H.!

 When your money looks "gone" and the bills are due ... just P.U.S.H.!

 When people just don't understand you ... just P.U.S.H.!

 P.U.S.H. - Pray Until Something Happens! ! ! ! !

Mother Nature's Calendar

 

Dear Friends:  

Images of my childhood experiences with my grandfather in his garden still dominate my thoughts associated with spring.  I wrote this piece to share my memories of my Grandfather Stevenson with my own grandchildren.

Grandfather Stevenson & his Garden

My grandfather was the oldest of seven children born to parents who emigrated from Scotland.  A small man with big plans, he was bright, creative and hard working.  By profession, a self-taught chemist for DIAL Products, he spent his days in tiny windowless labs.  Arriving home, he immediately removed his formal suit, tie and starched white shirt and donned his shabby gardening clothes.  His garden was his most favorite hobby.  

Even during the short days of January, when the heavy snow covered the fertile ground, he perused the colorful seed catalogues that were delivered daily by the shivering postman.  

His Philosophy  of Life

He approached his garden as systematically as he did his chemical experiments, combining old knowledge with new possibilities.  He first ordered seeds for the reliable plants . . . peas, beans, carrots, and corn.  But each year, he experimented with something new, something foreign, because he thrived on exploring the "new territory", just as his parents had. knotted

Anne "assisting" her grandfather in his garden

My grandfather's life philosophy was deeply rooted in potential.  To him, a dark seed hidden in the heart of a sweet red apple was an orchard invisible.  He was greatly excited by the mystery of the knarred Jerusalem Artichoke although he remained secure with the predictable pungent onion sets and the reliable bush beans.  

Dreams for the Future

As days lengthened and snows melted, seed packets arrived, and he tucked them carefully into his worn wooden garden box.  He began to image himself hoeing the rich dirt, his rumpled old hat shielding his eyes from the bright sunshine.  He longed for spring, to smell the fresh dirt, to hear birds, to feel the moist breezes, to taste the fresh peas from his garden.  

All winter, he waited to escape into spring to plant his garden.

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Obtaining Respite

Carter Ryan committed his father, in the advanced stages of Alzheimer's disease, to a nursing home and moved home to care for his homebound mother and her broken hip.  He was prepared to move his consulting business from St. Louis to Detroit, but ill-prepared for the "unrelieved intensity" of a five-year caregiving commitment.

I was putting in 18 and 19 hours a day caring for the needs of my mother.  I was simply overwhelmed.  

I sent a request to the men's group at the church I was attending asking for someone to watch my mother for a few hours while I took a break.  Out of all the men in that group, only one volunteered.

I used the four hour break to buy flowers.  When I returned home, my mother, who had been unable to speak for several days, asked me if I had the flowers planted yet.    

It was then that I realized how important having a break from caregiving really was.   

Following the death of his mother, Carter and his wife, Cynthia formed Christian Caregiver Relief, a non-profit charity for matching needy caregivers with specially trained volunteers.  

Our sole mission is to provide help to the often overlooked caregiver through the charitable Christian act of giving breaks to those persons caring for terminally ill family members.

Our trained volunteer relievers always go out in teams of two and are committed to providing between two and four hour relief sessions twice each month.      

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Are you in a similar caregiving situation with your loved one?  Follow Carter's example and make some phone calls to see if there is trained relief for you.  

Contact a local minister (even if you are not a member of his/her church), area ministerial association, council on aging, Social Services agency, hospice organization (even though your loved one does not qualify for hospice, they will know what is available). You will find numbers in the phone book.  Let your fingers do the walking and discover what is available within your community.  

If you find nothing, encourage those you contact to realize the need for this service and ask them to help develop a group of trained volunteers for you and your fellow caregivers within your community.  

You can learn more about Carter and Cyndi's program and how they have set it up, training of volunteers, etc. by visiting their web site at: www.christiancaregiversrelief.com 

Email to:  canneryanop@yahoo.com  

Call or write them at:

Carter & Cindi Ryan
3232 N. Silver Ridge
Mears, MI 49436
(231) 873-2077

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The Teacher Within

 

Dear Friends:

I have always looked to the land and its inhabitants (not necessarily humans) as my teachers.  Coming from my human intellectual approach to life, I have long been jealous of the intuitive nature of wild animals.  In my attempts to become more intuitive and less intellectual, especially as a caregiver, I have spent a great deal of time studying these animals and their approaches to life.  

Being frequent guests to our sanctuary, the white tailed deer have become some of my most important mentors.  I hope the following piece will help you appreciate their "intuitive" nature and encourage you to trust your own "intuition" in your role as a caregiver.    

The Clearing

In need of a little visual refreshment, I walk to the east window of my office.   Looking down the hill, across the stream and through the swamp to the clearing on the other side (more than a football field distance away), I discover a small herd of deer gently grazing in the fading afternoon sun.  

I am not the only one aware.  Within a few seconds, their I am not the only one aware.  Within a few seconds, their watchful eyes turn in my direction, and with flagging tails, they chase each other from my perception, into the safety of the swamp.  

Walking one of our mowed paths to get the mail, I again become aware of the apparent intuitive nature of my four footed teachers.

I have always seen our land as running north to south, probably because we enter on the north, and our home is at the southern extreme.  The animals seem to see it differently.  They traverse back and forth from east to west, as they transition between the swamp on the east side to the woods and lake on the west. 

However, the animals use a different (perhaps more intuitive) approach to enable their However, the animals use a different (perhaps more intuitive) approach to enable their travel.  I am extremely aware of their method, especially at this time of the year.  Their transgression cannot be hidden.  With the snow cover erased and the frost gone, their every track is in evidence.  Each step moves aside the dry grass and kicks up the wet decaying matter from below, leaving the darker residual from their passage.

My grandson, Jessup, exploring the message of a deer trail though the swamp

Thus, a visual trench, no more than 8 inches in width, marks their movement.  As I walk to the north to get my mail, their east-west paths, (more than 30 of them) cross my trail.  

Their orientation is never as straight as mine, as the least little sapling will cause their deviation to the left or right for a short period.  Then back into the same general direction only to move off again on an angle as if for no reason (at least as far as I can see).  Frequently, these trails will join together and even cross each other.   

What Am I Not "Seeing"?

 How do these animals decide (with their limited intellectual capacity) which of these many trails they will walk today?  It is definitely not decided by my logically human choice of the shortest distance between two points.  

There is something very important happening here.  There is something very important happening here.  Why do they have so many trails leading in the same direction?  I think know the reason.  Never once have I seen one of their passageways so well used that the protective cover is broken, allowing for erosion to take place.  

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