Going all back through my dementia caregiving experience with Emma, my mother, who passed on three years ago, seemed an unnecessary journey. I hesitated, therefore, to take up the A-Z Blogging Challenge this year and write on that dementia caregiving theme again.
And then I thought, oh well, maybe I’ll draw some attention to the two books I have published on the subject and earn enough in royalties to buy an occasional lunch.
Yet … it may not be what you think it is.
When I lived in Los Angeles, we used to play this game called “Guess what was on this corner last week,” for every week, or nearly that often, buildings and businesses came and went; the population increased by the thousands monthly and the dusty pueblo I had moved to in 1967 got a music center and other cultural venues, new highrise buildings, extended airport runways, and it changed and evolved. All the while, the city was in the process of what it was becoming next.
Didn’t I know by this stage in my life, therefore, that this would be the experience I would undergo writing these A-Zs? Probably I entertained that awareness somewhere in the dusty outskirts of my mind. I am the constant in the change. The music comes from within the process, the playing of the notes of the unfinished symphony, as Sara Snider (Sara C. Snider) pointed out on Susan Scott’s Garden of Eden Blog.
In this A-Z process, I have made new acquaintances, read some terrific writing, gained new thought insights and — yes — developed a new self discipline and dedication towards my writing. I feel enriched and bolstered by the kind support of other writers I have met along the way.
So I leave you today with another Alexandra Streliski performance, which seems to match the sentiment. Start this video at about 2:15 so you avoid all the French-language chatter, unless you speak French, then you may find it interesting, and stay until you see the snow scenes outside the window. (And, is the singer’s name really Alex Nevsky, as in Alexander Nevsky, and what’s he doing singing in Montreal? No wonder he calls himself Alex: Alexander Nevsky, Prince of Novgorod, 13 May 1221 – 14 November 1263. Wikipedia.)
This video builds, beginning in one tone of feeling and ending in another.
This minimalist music that Alexandra Streliski and others of her genre compose is defined as “melancholy and light,” and it seems to resonate with the process, the playing of the notes inside the warm café, the comings and goings in the snow, the lifetime departures. Are we standing on the platform waving our loved one goodbye or are we greeting a warm new turn in a constant relationship?