Thanks for posting a link to your blog on SPOT. Very thoughtful and provoking.

Our grandmother had dementia in her last years– I often remarked that “we lost her before we lost her” — the cognitive and personnality parts that we knew.

It’s all loss; and eventually all is lost — just different parts or different rates.

Thanks again. Gassho, Norm G.

Thank you for this insightful post. I had never considered dementia as an aspect of the Abhidharma’s “fear of unusual states of consciousness.” I had always heard the teaching in relation to fears that may arise in meditation practice.

In the Dharma, Ron

My (adopted) sister C died in Portland a year ago, following a ten-year slide into Alzheimerland. At first, her adult son was keeping track of how she was doing. When the “D-word” was mentioned I went there and got connected with one of the agencies that was assisting her, and continued to rely on her son.
Two years later the son died. As I was hauling freight at the time I was able to spend 2-3 days a month with here. The folks at the membership organization, Outreach In Burnside, were very happy to see me show up, and I and the staff became good friends. I was able to assist C in various ways, both in person and by phone.
C had been a writer of poetry and short stories, and her ‘story generator’ was in full flower some of the time. On the other hand, her physical health and her personality were intact, and we had quite wonderful long walks and meals in restaurants.
Ultimately Oregon took cognizance of her getting lost a lot, and insisted that she live in an adult fostercare home. When that home failed, we found a quite nice secured nursing facility where she was comfortable for the last year and a half.

I now live in California, do Hospice patient care and caregiver relief, among other things. I find this work immensely rewarding, partly as a resuly of that Portland exzperience. I often benefit from an expression of the folks at Outreach: “we’ll just roll with it!”

Best wishes to all, j

I find myself worrying about a number of things, climate change, the current state of the country, the world, peak-oil, and my increasing vulnerability to deal with the outfall of these things as I age. I actually lose sleep over these things. I have to constantly remind myself that the fear of these things are thoughts, that right now, none of these things is what’s in front of my nose. Are there any tools I can add to my practice to help with that?

Thanks,

Willy

as things change around us and in us, our essential selves are unchanged..

luminosity is a quality that has always been present in Buddha nature, and will always be…

these sound like the brass tacks for practice in the new year. As I age, conditions arise increasingly for worry, fear, anger…arghhhh. More and more, I’m making an effort to drop these, and simply practice. It’s a shaky proposition, sometimes; but seeing the worry, fear, anger and all the rest of it as reminders to practice means that….I have no excuses….? That luminosity is one quality that underlies all, gets we back to my cushion once more…

metta, everyone!

As some people here have noted, people with Alzheimer’s themselves can be quite sweet and open, like Ronald Reagan seeing a book about horses, and saying, “Oh, a book!”

Our life is always so incredibly fragile–everything about it could go at any time. That’s how it actually is.

So, certain habits I have been dropping through the years with the intent of feeling life without getting what I had wanted, and ending up fairly pleased with a more simple and connected experience with others who take less, or have been given less. I can watch a leaf in the wind, and feel it is me, being blown around by ego.

My mind is no exception, I don’t see it’s main purpose to be a bank of ideas and facts. I shall always be fond of the communal nature of the changing sky, and how the natural world around us has a life similar to my own ups and downs, of taking in and letting go. Nature is my master, that I do not own