Gratitude in Dementiaville

"Romeo?"

"Yes, Dear."

We're settled in the vacant conference room down the hall from Romeo's room. It's a typical conference room containing a long conference table, nicely padded burgundy chairs, a credenza, and a bank of windows that look south. We close the door. It's quiet in here. This is our "private" room where we come often to escape the buzz and activity of the nursing home, where we come to be alone.

"I want to tell you something, and I'm not sure if I've ever said this to you before."

Romeo's eyes become wide. He blinks, nods, reaches for my hand, encourages me.

"I'm not sure why I've never said this to you before. I think it all the time."

These days more than ever, I want Romeo to know everything I'm thinking about our marriage, about the life we had together, about the life we have now, about what he's meant to me, what he continues to mean to me, how he's helped me through my life, and how he's changed it. From the moment we met at the end of August 2005, Romeo and I have walked the rocky path of relationship with a tight grip on each other, both physically and metaphysically. Now, as we navigate our days with his dementia progressing, I want to spill the contents of my mind before him. It's my offering, my way of connecting with him, my worshiping of him.

As I sit before Romeo, his gaze focused on me in anxious anticipation and attention, I try to think of how to express what I feel. Emotions run through my brain. I see the energy of thoughts running before me, a seemingly endless movie reel of colored lights speeding across my mental landscape. I reach out for them, grab them, take them into my thoughts, but I am unable to translate them into words I can share with Romeo.

I am aware that Romeo waits for me to continue speaking. He has waited patiently these past few minutes as I search for what can't be searched for. And I finally find a way to tell him what I've felt for the years we've been together, for what we've been through together, for what we are yet to go through together, for what he means to me, for what he has meant to me, for what he will always mean to me.

"Romeo?"

His attention, his complete and total attention and presence -- this sweet, beautiful man who loves me unconditionally and whom I love unconditionally -- squeezes my hand with the strength of all the love he holds within himself.

I smile, receive his love, and say the only two words that come to mind...for in that moment, everything I feel for him has been reduced to...well...this:

"Thank you."

Thank you! Thank you? Is that all I can say to this wonderful man for what he's given me?

Ah, but he knows there's so much to that expression of gratitude. He's crying. And that makes me cry. So we sit there, in our private conference room, crying. And after we stop, he asks me to take him back to his room. We call for an aide to transfer him from his wheelchair to his bed. And then he drifts into blissful sleep, contented.

A Caregiver's Gratitude Journal

For numerous years, on and off, I have kept a gratitude journal. If you don't know what that is, it's simply a list you make each day of five things that you are thankful for. Why would anyone keep a gratitude journal? There are a number of benefits. Many people I know who keep a gratitude journal have noted that it helps to:

• keep you in the present.
• relieve stress (so important for caregivers!).
• direct your attention to the abundance in your life.
• balance you emotionally.
• manifest the sort of life you would like (this relates to the Law of Attraction).
• improve the quality of your spiritual life.

So how do you go about keeping a gratitude journal? Let's start with the journal itself and your writing implement. You can keep a gratitude journal on anything from pieces of scrap paper to an expensive leather journal, and anything in between. You can even make one yourself, or keep it on your computer or iPhone. I prefer to use a lined blank journal with an artsy cover. I especially love the lined journals that have magnetic closures.

Next, how often and when should you write in your gratitude journal? Daily is recommended. However, if you want to write more than once a day, go for it! Many people prefer to set aside a few minutes before they go to bed to do their writing, others prefer in the morning. Anytime you'd like is fine, as long as you set aside 5-10 minutes of quiet time to do this.

To begin, sit silently for a minute or so quieting your mind. Then focus on things in your life you're grateful for. It could be anything, from a loving, nurturing relationship, to the paper you're writing on. Begin to write. Write down five things you're thankful for, starting each sentence with "I am grateful for," or "I am thankful for," or any other variation such as "I am truly grateful for," or "I am so thankful for."

It is most important while you're writing that you think about what it is you're writing, to FEEL the gratitude, to FEEL the emotion of it, and stay in the feeling. Sometimes I get so wrapped up in the feel of gratitude that I think of many more things for which I'm grateful, so I write them down as well, staying with the gratitude emotion.

That's it. That's all there is to keeping a gratitude journal. You'll see benefits the first time you try it.

A short meditation with Deepak Chopra on gratitude:

A Caregiver's Release and Gratitude

Debbie sat on the floor next to me in the back of the room by the soundboard. We were nearly done for the day, and I was getting a head start at packing up, listening to the music playing during our break. It was day two of a two-day spiritual course and event I was helping with, that I regularly help with.

"I took the rose petals," Debbie said, "from the chairs for the cosmic beings yesterday and put them all around Romeo's photograph on the alter. It's so cute."

I wanted to see it. I gave her a hug, took a few deep breaths, and walked to the alter at the side of the room where I placed the photo earlier in the day. The white rose petals framed Romeo's face and gave him a playful, loving aura, like a sweet Santa Claus, a woodland Pan. It made me laugh.

I continued to chuckle inside of myself and stood staring at the photo, spontaneously connecting with Romeo's spirit, his soul, again, as I had been doing on and off throughout the day. I remained standing, gazing at the photo, the rose petals, the candles, feeling Romeo's presence and the Presence that is always there no matter where we are. I turned quiet and serious.

I told these two Presences, "You know, Romeo has been struggling lately with the fact that his dementia is now so severe that I can't take care of him any longer, that he has to live in a nursing home. The struggle consumes his days. He is suffering because of it. He doesn't want to suffer. I don't want him to suffer. Our friends and family don't want him to suffer. Please help him to surrender, to accept what is. Please lift his suffering." And I cried.

My tears flowed freely. I don't know how long I stood there, my love magnifying while the emotions cranked up, skipped to a higher level. I let them. The song playing now was Kabir's Song, by Snatam Kaur:

Oh, my Soul, you come and you go
Through the paths of time and space.
In useless play you'll not find the way
So set your course and go.

Sing such a song with all your life
You'll never have to sing again.

Love such a one with all your heart
You'll never need to love again....

Walk such a path with all of your faith
You'll never have to wander again...

Breathe, my Soul, breathe, my Soul,
Breathe from the quiet center...

I continued to stand there, crying and talking to the Presences. Soon, a physical presence, standing behind me, arms around me, holding me and holding the space for me. It was another friend, Mitch, allowing me to do this, to release, to talk with the Presences. His grace, his attention gave me the space to accept the magnifying love of the Presences that came to me in wave after wave of energy.

That day, yesterday, was large and full. Many people -- some of them not really knowing how much they've helped -- came to me with words that I needed to hear, with hugs that I lapped up, with a simple presence that I leaned on. Dear friends -- Debbie, Matt, Mitch, Dan, Regena, Nancy, Kristi, Kathryn, and many, many others throughout the past few months -- your steady support, your understanding, your spirit means more to me than you can ever know. I have so much gratitude in my heart for all of you that I don't know what to do with it. It overflows and releases in the form of my tears. I love all of you deeply. Thank you. Each of us travel a long road, and we all feel the strain of the journey. Bless each of you.

Here is part of Kabir's Song, by Snatam Kaur.