Rhubarb and Maytime ~ Gatherings from Ireland # 137

Stewed Irish Rhubarb in Mother’s dish for her Grandson’s Supper

If you are a regular, you will know that I write about ‘losing elderly parents’  as well as all sorts of things relating to Ireland.   May is probably the most complex month in the year for me as it saw both the birth of our son, nearly eighteen years ago, on May 24th, and the death of mother, almost four years ago, on May 31st. And, it turned out, May 24th was the last time I saw my beloved mother and father together.

This afternoon, I went to the supermarket and the one thing that jumped into the trolley was fresh Irish rhubarb. When I was pregnant, back in 1995, I developed an absolute passion for rhubarb, especially rhubarb pie. The ‘pie’ bit became a bit of an issue between me and my kindly doctor and he advised that stewed rhubarb would be my best option.

This evening, I ended up cooking stewed rhubarb and thinking about how often my father talked about when ‘ one door closes, another opens.’  That’s exactly how May feels, on this Public H9liday Monday, especially as the luscious fragrance of stewed rhubarb wafts all round the house.

Bandstands and The Great Gatsby ~ Gatherings from Ireland # 136

The Bandstand, Dungarvan, Co. Waterford

I’m always drawn to bandstands and I love the one that stands so proudly in Dungarvan, Co. Waterford.  It was erected around 1900 and I’ve been reading in the Waterford Co. Museum’s Dungarvan: Historic Guide & Town Trail that:

Here on many summer evenings, tourists known locally as ‘Gaybricks’ and Dungarvan residents enjoyed the music of the brass band. 

All of this makes me think of  The Great Gatsby and especially the 1974 version of the film starring Robert Redford and Mia Farrow. I had adored the novel as a teenager and it was in May 1979 that I finally got to see the film.

The reason I remember that first viewing is because it was the night before my final exams in Trinity College and my ‘big sister’ arrived to check on me and fully intent on advising me not to stay up all night cramming. She was stunned to find me lying on my bed totally engrossed in The Great Gatsby which I was viewing on the portable black and white television that my parents had given me for my 21st birthday the previous October. Seeing, that I was in another world, ‘big sis’ headed off, phoned home to report  our mother  that I was possibly ‘too relaxed’ about the exams!

Last night, I watched the 1974 version of  The Great Gatsby again and I have a feeling that no matter what the new version is like I will forever remain in this dreamy time-warp.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1xxNkdFse5w

Go on tell me what bandstands evoke in you!

My Must-Read Irish Blogs ~ Gatherings from Ireland # 134

You know the Greeks didn’t write obituaries. They only asked one question after a man died: did he have passion. (Dean Kansky)

Colours speak all languages. (Joseph Addison)

Laughter is wine for the soul – laughter soft, or loud and deep, tinged through with seriousness … the hilarious declaration made by man that life is worth living. (Sean O’Casey)

After some soul-searching, I’ve decided that passion, colour and humour are what I look for in a blog. I suppose that’s not too surprising as I tend to look for these characteristics in people, books, films ….. the lot.  It’s not that I necessarily look for all three in the one go ~ that could get a bit dull ~ but I like to know where I’m pretty sure to find them.

Blogging in Ireland is booming and I know that I’ve only read a sample of the thousands that are out there. However, today, I want to bring you 4 Irish blogs that I love and hope you enjoy perusing them.

http://theclotheslineie.wordpress.com/

http://www.foxglovelane.com/

http://loneswimmer.com/

http://thesilvervoice.wordpress.com/

I’m really interested to hear what you look for in a blog and which are your favourites from the country in which you live.

Being a Bridge for our Elderly Parents

I have been reading a good deal of what people have said about ageing and two quotes resonate particularly strongly with me and I find myself come back to them over and over. Here they are:

Those who love deeply never grow old; they may die of old age, but they die young.

( Sir Arthur Wing Pinero)

In spite of illness, in spite even of the arch enemy, sorrow, one can remain alive long past the usual  date of disintegration if one is unafraid of change, insatiable in intellectual curiosity, interested in big things, and happy in small ways.

(Edith Wharton)

I suspect many of us know of elderly couples who have lived long and and fulfilling lives together ~ maybe 50 or 60 years ~ and then one dies, leaving the survivor with immense sadness and grief.  The wonder often is how the surviving spouse holds on to life and doesn’t slip away from the shock and sheer upset of losing the person who has been so fundamental to his/her life.

This is a context in which I feel that grown-up children can have a major role to play. They are, by definition, a major link between their parents and while nobody will ever fill the place of the partner who has died, the grown-up child  can be a person who helps to keep memories alive, can empathize with the sense of loss because they too are grieving for the loss of the parent. This is a time of heightened emotion for both the surviving parent and the grown-up child and is one in when many layers of life may be peeled back ~ with a sharing of tears, memories of happy times, and exchanges about times spent with the partner/parent who has passed.

The vacuum left by the passing of one elderly parent can be immense but it seems important never to underestimate human resilience, even in the face of illness and what Edith Wharton describes as the arch enemy, sorrow. 

I see grown-up children as being crucial bridges in helping elderly parents, and especially those who have lost their lifelong partner, to adapt to change, retain  intellectual curiosity, be interested in big things and  be happy in small ways.  This is a time for grown-up children to use their imaginations and navigational skills and find the necessary bridges to ensure that their parents can mazimize the quality of  relating to what really inspires them.  This is a time to think of all the senses ~ taste, touch, hearing, seeing, smelling.

The possibilities are endless and ‘quality of life’ is about loving, being loved and knowing that there is always hope of  happiness and the sharing of  precious moments.

What Makes a Great Hair Salon? ~ Gatherings from Ireland # 133

I was immersed in a Hair Salon for two and a quarter hours this morning. I hasten to add that I’m not one of those people who puts ‘Getting my Hair Done’ on my lists of  Things to Beat the Blues or Uplifting Treats.  That said, I think I may be on the turn.

There I was at 9am, first client in Hype on Main Street, Tramore, this morning with hair  a strong candidate to surpass the most cringe-making before her makeover pics that you see in every second women’s magazine. You name it, I had it: rats tails, split ends, a DIM- lopsided fringe …..

What did I get:

1. A smiling welcome

2. A lovely hot cup of cappuccino

3. Genuine interest in what the options were to sort out the super-mess.

4. Absolutely no criticism or questions like ‘ Who on earth did your hair last?’ 

5. A handful of  magazines for May 2013 ~ not Christmas numbers from 2011 or 6 back-issues of  titles like ‘Wood-Turning’  that seem to find themselves in all sorts of waiting-rooms.

6.  Exremely comfortable chair.

7. A mirror that was kindness personified.

8. A trainee who washed my hair with as much care as she would have given her own ahead of a big night out

9. A stylist who I would describe as a creative artist ~ she treated my hair as I imagine my idol Jack B. Yeats concentrated on his paintings ~ inspired, passionate, confident, focussed, talented, imaginative, attention to detail …..

10. A feel-good sense of time well spent and a head of hair that makes me feel inviting you all to take a look at it!

Yes, Hype is a real highlight!

http://www.hypehair.ie/

The Dawning of May ~ Gatherings from Ireland #132

The Dawning

I sit barefoot at dawn

watching the doves

swoop from our lilac tree

to feast on breadcrumbs

It’s a dawning that we share

branches touching 

out of the darkness

searching for love

(Jean Tubridy)

The Shock of Losing an Elderly Parent

The other day, one of the search terms that led to my blog read: Death of elderly parent expected but still a shock. 

There’s all sorts of ways of looking at this but I know exactly what the writer meant.  It’s strange but I’m nearly reluctant to write this post as I am acutely aware that the shock involved in sudden deaths, especially of young people, is immense and possibly qualitatively different than the shock involved in losing an elderly parent who has been ‘expected’ to die for maybe years or months.

However, I have known the shock to which this writer is referring and I think it is important to acknowledge and heighten awareness of it.

I’m sure most of us know of people whose parents have been ill and ‘at death’s door’ for a very long time and when we hear the news of their eventual deaths, it comes as no great surprise.  Often, the wonder is, How could they have lasted so long?

When that person is YOUR mother or father, however old, their dying is a shock. In fact, I would say that the oftener an elderly parent has diced with death and survived, the more it can seem like they are invincible.

I have vivid recall of a conversation I had with a chaplain on the day before my mother died. He talked of Lazarus and I just said that I thought my mother had probably outdone Lazarus at that stage as she had ‘picked up her bed and walked’  on numerous occasions when she had been ‘written off’ ~ to use a great expression of hers. To the best of my knowledge Lazarus only did this once. 

As I see it, the shock in the eventual passing of an elderly parent is all bound up with what seems like gaping finality.  This person, who has been around all our lives and who has, if we are fortunate, supported us through thick and thin, known and understood all our foibles and our whole life history, is no longer the breathing, loving mainstay that they were. We now see them in a way that we have never seen them before, lifeless, silent, waxen.

No matter how much  we feel prepared for, or visualise this moment, and it can be a long, long moment, it still comes as a major shock to the system.

To my mind, the biggest help is being supported by people who understand the nature of this shock and who don’t try to belittle it in any way.

The world is a different place without the physical presence of a beloved parent, however old he/she is at the time of death. The world seems much less secure and the very foundations of life shudder.

On the positive side, beloved elderly parents tend to leave a strong legacy that is like a well of history, precious moments, wisdom and memories that will help to put our personal worlds back on their axes.