Diving Into the Waves

I love analogies.  Finding different ways to describe and define things help my mind find clarity in the natural chaos of life.  However, if you’ve never been to the beach this analogy won’t make any sense to you and I apologize.

I’ve decided the title of this non book I am writing will be “Diving into the Wave: Our Travels through Dementialand”.  If you’ve ever planted your feet in the sand less than knee deep where the beach meets the ocean you may know where this is going.  No matter how hard you try you just can’t stay balanced.  Sometimes it’s a subtle shifting of the sand being swept away under your feet from the coming and going of the tide.  Sometimes it a big unexpected wave coming at you with way more force than you expected.  Sometimes it a hidden undertow.  Regardless of what creates the problem, the result is the same.  You can get knocked on your butt.  You get up thinking you know what’s coming and how to stabilize yourself or be tougher but you are fighting forces way more powerful than your will and logic.  If you are the support system and caregiver for someone you love with dementia, Alzheimer’s or other cognitive disorders I wonder if this sounds familiar to your experience?

Just like my times at the beach, I eventually understood that no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t stand strong.  I had to wade in deeper, relax a little and “go with the flow”. I am strong willed but was trying to fight a battle against an ocean I can’t win.  Instead if I dive in and get to the other side of the crashing waves I can float and gain more perspective and yes, some peace and joy.  I hope as you are reading this you can float along with me and feel the sun on your face.  It isn’t easy to get there and there are still hazards you have to be aware of but focus on diving in deeper.  Don’t retreat to the beach and bury yourself in the sand.  My first tidbit of experience to share is to find your sunny moments and cherish them.  And as you get knocked around and even crash on that beach from time to time, learn to laugh at yourself when you realize what a spectacle you’ve become (even when your swimsuit is shifted by the crash exposing body parts you intended to keep private - that MAY have actually happened-no analogy).

By the way, G3 is genetically a fair skinned redhead (before age and six children toughened up her outer shell) so she avoided the outdoors and the sun.  It’s one of life’s little ironies that I should now describe her as my ocean.  If you follow along with me you’ll find more analogies along this journey.  I hope they can help you find perspective and reflection of your own.  😎