Stop That Cleaning!

At long last, I think I have figured out the cause of the weekend meltdowns that M has been having almost every Sunday. I couldn’t figure it out – we’ll get to some point in Sunday, usually early afternoon, and he will go into a decline. He starts worrying about both of us or just him being thrown out of the house and telling me he doesn’t know what he’s doing “here.” I can never tell if “here” means in our house, in this situation, in this room or exactly what he’s talking about. And, of course, he can’t tell me either. Continue reading “Stop That Cleaning!”

This.

Danielle LaPorte has done it again.

I read this message first thing at my desk this morning and cried. THIS was exactly what I needed. I needed to hear this, to read this. I probably need it tattooed to my forehead. I never want to ask for help. I never want to admit that I need help. But I do. Daily.

I think I might be getting over my fear of asking.

Ask for help.

Part of being in hell is that you feel like nobody’s ever been where you are before. And you don’t want to drag anyone down with you.

But you must ask for people to listen, to bring soup, to advise and to help how they can. This is how you love yourself – beyond a concept. It’s astoundingly practical.

And you know what you’re going to find?

That it’s an honor for people to help you. —Danielle LaPorte

Things Fall Away

Have I mentioned that I am NOT mechanically inclined? For the 36 years M and I have been married, we’ve had a division of duties that has worked well for us. He’s been in charge of all things mechanical and electric and I’ve handled things like gardening and cooking. I know it sounds like a cliché, but these are things I enjoy doing and I seem to have some talent for. Continue reading “Things Fall Away”

Those March Showers

Last night, M asked me if I HAD to help him with his shower. I told him no, I didn’t have to, but that he had asked me to help him with the water last week. I went on to explain that I noticed he was smelling fresher now that I had been helping him with his soap and washcloth every night. Continue reading “Those March Showers”