Live Well, Even When You're Not

I work with elders who have dementia.  My job, in great measure, consists of finding ways big and small to improve their quality of life.  This morning I spent about an hour sitting outside in the beautiful courtyard with about seven residents, watching birds, listening to nature and once every few minutes or so, reading from a book of Robert Frost poems.  Nothing swells the heart so much as seeing the joy on an elder's face when she feels the warm morning sun on her shoulders or closes her eyes to bask in the refreshing wisp of a summer-morning breeze.  Often I find that the best moments of the day for them, and for me, come wrapped in serendipity.  For instance, when I read aloud the poem, "After Apple Picking" and the ladies gathered around me to talk about all the amazing treats they used to make with their fall apple harvests.  They take me back with them, to their kitchens or to their farms and together we make those pies, a reliving of happier times that conjures joy to the very moment and allows us all to hold it close once again.

Imperfection is humanity's kinship.  All of us, sitting out there in that morning sunlight shared an understanding of sorts.  We talked of aging and times long-gone, of how we change over the years in good ways and in bad.  Although they are blissfully unaware of many of the ways their bodies and brains have begun to fade, I am often acutely aware of my own mortality.  We are not well, any of us, and yet we sit smiling in a summer glow as if all were right with the world and with us.

I know quite a few people who struggle every day with their bodies--illnesses that don't come with banners or fund-raisers or icons.  We refuse to let the weaknesses of our bodies define us as human beings, not because we want to inspire anyone else, but because coming face to face with your own limitations, well, that kind of gives you a different perspective on life, and especially on those small moments in every day that make life grand.

For years people have told me I have important things to say, but I've never been quite sure what anyone expects to hear.  Lately though, I see a pattern in my own life and I find myself compelled to write about it.  In many ways I am not a well person, but if you met me for the first time today, you'd probably never guess that.  Some folks seem to wear their diseases like banners, I choose to carry mine in a cute bag and dress it up with coordinating shoes.  I suppose a lifetime of working with elders in an effort to make their everyday moments special and as filled with joy as possible has taught me a few things about appreciating life.

Here is where I think my message should land, and hopefully stick.  This blog, I hope, will come to help us all understand how to live life well, even when we are not.