I was thinking recently, that this modern quest to rush and accumulate before its all gone; to get on a rung just above your neighbours, climbing over the top of others, is obviously so unsustainable and is going to end in tears. I grew up in the 1950s and there was striving, but we all had relatively little and still managed to enjoy life without international travel and ostentatious houses that take a lifetime of work to pay for on two incomes.
There were dogs and zinnias and the sun rose every day. That seems better than the alternative coming.
Joy comes in the small moments: holding my wife’s hand; helping her pause to feel a leaf on a tree, and noticing how soft it is; hearing her read a four word sign, which flashed up on TV out loud, when completing a simple verbal sentence can be hard.
Joy is her taking me on a walk to explore her residence and see what others are up to. Staff greet her by name, with warm smiles. We share a laugh with others living with dementia, and I try to honour each person by addressing them by name. Sometimes we meet other people’s whānau, and you can see the love in the ordinary time they’re spending together.
These are the little moments of joy when your partner lives with advanced Young-onset Dementia.
Away from that: more green time, less screen time. Noticing the fledgling bird is revisiting with more adult bloomage showing.
And good chats with friends, celebrating their wins.
Reflecting on all of this, it wasn’t such a bad week after all. It really does help to notice the joyful moments we can be grateful for. I’d love to hear about others too.
Reminders that I am part of a warm friendly community - the neighbour who appeared at the door with a handful of beans for dinner, the young Maori shop assistant who encouraged us to drop into the Waitangi day festivities, all the families there enjoying themselves- children riding in the recycled oil drum train, tots and teens tossing balls through goals, eating hangi, candyfloss, ice creams, having their pictures taken with the fire engine, watching the wood choppers' relay. Adults enjoying picnics whilst listening to local musicians. Community is so good.
Another pocket of joy for me is sitting outside in the cool of the evening listening to the moreporks wake up. We have a pair and a young one that have quite a conversation before they go hunting.
I read recently that they are endangered by second generation rat and possum poisoning, so we need to be aware.
All the above are what makes life enjoyable.
I was thinking recently, that this modern quest to rush and accumulate before its all gone; to get on a rung just above your neighbours, climbing over the top of others, is obviously so unsustainable and is going to end in tears. I grew up in the 1950s and there was striving, but we all had relatively little and still managed to enjoy life without international travel and ostentatious houses that take a lifetime of work to pay for on two incomes.
There were dogs and zinnias and the sun rose every day. That seems better than the alternative coming.
Thanks Bex.
Cats, too.
Yes and we had number 8 wire
Joy comes in the small moments: holding my wife’s hand; helping her pause to feel a leaf on a tree, and noticing how soft it is; hearing her read a four word sign, which flashed up on TV out loud, when completing a simple verbal sentence can be hard.
Joy is her taking me on a walk to explore her residence and see what others are up to. Staff greet her by name, with warm smiles. We share a laugh with others living with dementia, and I try to honour each person by addressing them by name. Sometimes we meet other people’s whānau, and you can see the love in the ordinary time they’re spending together.
These are the little moments of joy when your partner lives with advanced Young-onset Dementia.
Away from that: more green time, less screen time. Noticing the fledgling bird is revisiting with more adult bloomage showing.
And good chats with friends, celebrating their wins.
Reflecting on all of this, it wasn’t such a bad week after all. It really does help to notice the joyful moments we can be grateful for. I’d love to hear about others too.
My garden. I’m learning all the time.
love watching the bees feed on my flowers, my chooks getting in beside me when I’m weeding, and harvesting something I took time to nurture.
I also recently got a bird bath, and the birds love it.
It’s my sanctuary in a crazy world.
Reminders that I am part of a warm friendly community - the neighbour who appeared at the door with a handful of beans for dinner, the young Maori shop assistant who encouraged us to drop into the Waitangi day festivities, all the families there enjoying themselves- children riding in the recycled oil drum train, tots and teens tossing balls through goals, eating hangi, candyfloss, ice creams, having their pictures taken with the fire engine, watching the wood choppers' relay. Adults enjoying picnics whilst listening to local musicians. Community is so good.
Stalking my dahlias, talking to Phyllis (Sourdough starter).
I was just laying in bed watching a rosella having a big feed of flax seeds from the flax that I planted last year.
Walks with my lovable labrador, Nathan.
My dahlias 🥰🌸
Watching my 2 year old grandchild discover something new - a butterfly or a puzzle piece; catch a balloon or a new word. Sheer joy all round!
What an incredible offer. Whomever came up with the idea deserves a bouquet. Thanks for sharing.
Another pocket of joy for me is sitting outside in the cool of the evening listening to the moreporks wake up. We have a pair and a young one that have quite a conversation before they go hunting.
I read recently that they are endangered by second generation rat and possum poisoning, so we need to be aware.
Thank you so much for this post Bex. Beautiful
The arts! Live music, movies, art.
Our dog's unbounded energy on our beach walks brings me joy almost every day. So free and in-the-moment ....