I was in Salt Lake City on Election Night, the first leg of a cross-country road trip with my son Zack who is headed back to Brooklyn. The day began so innocently and ended in a nightmare. The next morning, still in shock, we commiserated with his friends then drove south to Moab, somber
It’s been almost a month since my week-long vacation in Scotland. I left my husband at home with the caregiver and traveled with my neighbors and assorted sons and nieces, theirs and mine. We visited ruins in St. Andrews, caught a glimpse of the Highlands as we drove by Loch Lomond, rode a ferry
Structure and routine are important in dealing with brain injury, the occupational therapist told me when my husband was discharged from the hospital. He suffers from memory loss so establishing routines helps provide consistency and stability to his day. It also helps with sequencing skills – knowing that things will happen on a regular
We have added boxing to our exercise regime and although I have never been a fighter, I find it exhilarating hitting Coach D’s boxing mitts. BAM! for the 40 crunches he makes us do. BAM! for the two minute planks. Coach D dances around, making us get in the proper position. “Protect your face!”
In brain injury, short-term memory is usually the first to go. Long-term memories are more deeply rooted and can remain intact. When I tell my husband it’s the 4th of July and ask what he thinks happens, he automatically says, “Fireworks. The block party.” Our neighborhood has been throwing a 4th of July block party
It’s week 6 of our exercise regime and feats I thought impossible are happening – holding a plank position for over two minutes, concentration curls with eight pound weights, and skull crushers with a 45 pound bar. With gentle pressure from Coach D. and the support and laughter from companions, we are getting stronger,
I started a new exercise regime – two days a week, my backyard is transformed into a gym and three of my neighborhood friends and I work out with Coach D. The lawn area is for ropes, agility ladders and hopscotch. The patio is equipped with benches, mats, ab wheels, bar bells, weights and
Zack and I took in the show, –Unfinished: Thoughts Left Visible, at the Met Breuer last month. I was drawn to this painting by Roman Opalka, a Polish artist who began the count to infinity to convey the continuum of time. He painted 233 canvases in all, before his death in 2011, with white
I’m packing for a trip to New York to see my son Zack then on to Washington DC for an education conference. It’s not the myriad details that need attending before I leave — arranging for the caregiver, planning out meals and stocking the refrigerator with enough food for a week — that leaves
I’m listening to Anne Tyler’s A Spool of Blue Thread in the car during my commute to work. “Oh, what a world, what a world,” says Abby to her future mother-in-law, Mrs. Whitshank. “That’s what the wicked witch says in The Wizard of Oz.” “In a way, it sounds kind of pitiful,” Mrs. Whitshank says. Those
