Category: Slice of Life

  • the sundowners starring someone you love (part 1)

    the sundowners starring someone you love (part 1)


    Turner Classic Movie fans and/or folks who are old enough to remember the year JFK was elected President might think of The Sundowners as a 1960 movie starring Robert Mitchum and Deborah Kerr.

    Those folks would be right about the movie, but for many others the sundowners are not actors in a movie – they are people characterized by real life problems. The Mayo Clinic offers the following definition of the word.

    The term “sundowning” refers to a state of confusion occurring in the late afternoon and lasting into the night. Sundowning can cause different behaviors, such as confusion, anxiety, aggression or ignoring directions. Sundowning can also lead to pacing or wandering. Sundowning isn’t a disease. It’s a group of symptoms that occur at a specific time of the day. These symptoms may affect people with Alzheimer’s disease and other types of dementia. The exact cause of this behavior is unknown.

    My first personal experience with sundowning was with my mother who began strange behavior before I attributed her late afternoon anxiety to a specific cause. Full disclosure I lived a thousand miles away from her Richmond, Texas home in South Carolina in the 1990s, visited twice a year, out of touch with her daily life. We maintained our long distance fragile mother-daughter relationship via weekly telephone calls once upon a time before cell phones. When my mom was in her early 70s, I went home to help her make arrangements for her brother Toby’s funeral in 1997. While I was there for a few days, I noticed she went through her house closing shutters every afternoon before supper. She also became very agitated until her best friend Willie Flora (who spent every night with her) arrived at suppertime. I dismissed this as having to do with a death of someone close to her.

    Years passed, a new century brought changes to both my mother and me, but on my Texas visits I saw my mother’s early evening behaviors grew stranger. Her anxiety levels manifested paranoid issues I could no longer explain away. Sundowning was one of the first indications of the demon called dementia that robbed my aging mother of not only her memories but also her physical well-being.

    When Pretty and I began to notice changes in Carl’s behavior in late afternoons this year, we talked about the sundowning syndrome.

    Stay tuned for sundowning in dogs – it’s not just a human problem.

  • Dump Old Joe Movement? Not Me

    Dump Old Joe Movement? Not Me


    I flirted with the Dump Old Joe Movement for a hot minute, why?

    because Joe is old, white and old.

    Would I prefer young, not quite so white, and young?

    Probably, but I think Joe’s doing a good job so why punish him

    for two things he can’t control: his age and the color of his skin.

    I am, however, a card carrying member of the Anybody But Trump Movement, why?

    because Trump is old, white, and has been indicted on 91 criminal charges.

    I never even glanced at the Kick Kamala to the Curb Movement, why?

    Because Kamala is much younger at 58, a female person of color, outspoken champion of women’s rights to control our own bodies, brilliant, fights injustices and…

    because people of color will determine the outcome of the 2024 election.

    ***************************

    Slava Ukraini. For the adults in the room.

  • when the name of the game is life

    when the name of the game is life


    Whether the surface is a hard one or made of red clay or manicured green grass, the goal is the same: to win, to beat someone. To play better, smarter and mentally tougher than the opponent. To be more physical and aggressive. To charge the net when an opening appears. To cover the baseline when the shots go deep against you. The court is a battlefield and the scales of justice are often tipped by net cords and fractions of inches along white lines. The game is tennis, but the game of life is similar.

    How often must we summon courage to charge the net when an opening appears – when the scales of justice have tipped too far in the direction of injustice, when we stand behind the baseline for protection from the deep shots fired against us by people whose purpose is to disrupt our rhythm, to create confusion in our understanding of what matters most. Yes, the game is life, but the game of tennis is similar.

    For men who play singles, the winner is usually required to win two of three sets. In Grand Slam events, however, the rules change to three of five sets to determine the champion. If each man wins two sets, a fifth set is played. The fifth set is often the scene of one man’s surrender and loss to another man’s courage and inner strength. The first four sets are evenly played, but the last one is too much for the body or mind or will or all of the above for one of the guys and the desire to win or to not lose drives his opponent to victory. When the game is life, time controls how many sets we play. For some, the opportunities to play five sets never happen because winners and losers are determined at the end of three or four sets or earlier when players are forced to retire because of illness or injury.

    I love fifth sets in tennis. I particularly like them when they are close and long, and I’m not even paying for my seat in front of the television set. Nope, I’m watching for free, but I have the deluxe box seats and have seen my share of Grand Slams in Melbourne, Paris, London and New York City. From my ABCs of Agassi to Becker to Connors to later Golden Era Greats Federer and Nadal I admire the passion and persistence of the five-set winners. There is a moment of high drama called match point when the difference between winning and losing in the fifth set can be measured in split-second choices and breaks in concentration. Match points can be saved and the game can go on for hours, but in the end, a match point is lost and the winner takes center court with a victorious smile and wave to the crowd.

    Whenever I watch a five-set tennis match, I am reminded that match points in tennis have an advantage over those we have in real life. Jannik Sinner and Alexander Zverev understood the importance of the fifth set and its match point last night at the US Open in New York City. Their embrace at the net following the match showed their separate reactions to winning and losing match point, but we as individuals may never know when we miss the chance to win –  or lose what we value most. Moving through the game of life we often struggle to identify those inflection points that will profoundly define our fifth set’s legacy, but maybe, just maybe, we will recognize one more opportunity to charge the net with courage, to leave the safety of the baseline to protect what we must not lose.

  • feels like home to me

    feels like home to me


    As Hurricane Idalia barrels across the southeastern section of the USA today, Pretty has gone for dog food and I’m watching the rain begin to softly fall through my office windows, listening to Alexa shuffle my playlist of songs I love. Feels like Home to Me by my favorite trio of Dolly Parton, Linda Ronstadt and Emmylou Harris reminds me of who and what are most important to me when the storms of life threaten to overwhelm.

    Something in your eyes
    Makes me wanna lose myself
    Makes me wanna lose myself
    In your arms

    … There’s something in your voice

    … Makes my heart beat fast
    Hope this feeling lasts
    The rest of my life
    If you knew how lonely my life has been

    … And how long I’ve been so alone

    … If you knew how I wanted someone to come along
    And change my life the way you’ve done

    … Feels like home to me
    Feels like home to me
    Feels like I’m all the way back where

    … I come from
    Feels like home to me
    Feels like home to me
    Feels like I’m all the way back where I belong

    … A window breaks down a long dark street
    And a siren wails in the night

    … But I’m alright ’cause I have you here with me
    And I can almost see through the dark there is light

    … If you knew how much this moment means to me
    And how long I’ve waited for your touch
    If you knew how happy you are making me
    I’ve never thought that I’d love anyone so much

    … Feels like home to me
    Feels like home to me
    Feels like I’m all the way back where
    I come from

    … Feels like home to me
    Feels like home to me
    Feels like I’m all the way back where I belong
    Feels like I’m all the way back where I belong

    (Randy Newman, songwriter)

    ****************

    Pretty and I hope all our cyberspace friends are staying safe from whatever storms threaten today – and every day.

    Molly and me

    Pretty and Ella with son Drew glued to golf tournament

    Feels like home to me.