Beginnings, Endings, and Everything In-Between
The first step is even harder when it isn't the first step
Sometimes you miss the first step
Things are supposed to start at the beginning, especially stories. You don’t pick up a book and start reading from a random page in the middle. Nothing makes sense when you do that. You miss important information, and you have no idea who the characters are or what they are trying to do.
When writing about life however, it’s difficult to actually catch that first step. I stand here looking at the page and I see an escalator - an endless cycle of steps emerging, moving up, and then disappearing, only to emerge again later. I’ve stepped onto that escalator a number of times, and started on the journey toward the goal. The problem comes when I look back and see all the steps behind me. Some of them are important, so I backtrack. and eventually back myself right off the steps. Then I have to watch again for that right moment to step back on.
What I am realizing (finally) is that the steps don’t wait, and there will always be important things that are behind me and no amount of backing up will catch them all before ejecting me from the path eventually. There are also other escalators. Some lead to the same floors and others have very different destinations. What I need to accept is that there is no right moment.
So here I am, stepping onto the moving stairway of my experiences. This is my beginning which is not a beginning at all. Every story has to start somewhere, and sometimes it’s not possible to find the actual beginning.
Endings are not always at the end
Thinking again of that moving escalator of life, the stairs reach the top and seemingly end, but we know that in fact they simply loop around and emerge again at the bottom. To say that every ending is the beginning of something else is painfully cliché, but undeniably true. Even when one thing ends, other things continue, and new things begin.
In my parents’ dementia I see the disappearance of the writing on the pages of their life story. The details fade. New pages are filled only to be blank a moment later. Supporting characters have dissolved and milestones have crumbled into dust. In a sense, their story is ending, even though it continues.
When there is no beginning and no ending, there is the in-between
You join me on this journey mid-stride. I don’t know where it began, because for every beginning there is always some sort of prologue. The steps emerge behind just as they disappear ahead. Like a cleverly confusing Escher sketch, there is no definable start or finish. And so we focus on what we can: the in-between.
I hereby officially shed my need to keep things in order, whether that be chronologically or logically. Life is chaotic at the best of times. Dementia puts an added twist on everything. Fighting the current to keep the boat straight will lead to exhaustion. Instead I will try to relax and move with the current, working only when necessary to avoid a whirlpool or protruding objects. If you experience motion sickness or dizziness during the ride, close your eyes and the feeling should pass. Or so we hope.
What is the point, anyhow?
This is part disclaimer, part self-justification. I am not a professional caregiver or a dementia specialist. Dementia is as diverse and unpredictable as the daily weather forecast. What we experience is likely to be completely different from what other caregivers of other people with dementia encounter. Thus, this is not a guide, or advice, or description of what to expect. It is simply our chaos.
So, what is the point, anyhow? I’m supposed to be able to explain what problem I’m solving or what value I’m offering to my readers. Well, I can’t. I am not here to provide the answer but maybe when you read my stories and musings, you might find something useful. I hope that I can sometimes elicit a laugh or share a tear. Whether you find yourself in similar situations, get a glimpse into one of many possible roads ahead, or are reminded of times since passed, I would like to know that I am not alone and neither are you.
Life is chaotic and dementia is cruel. I cannot control either of these two beasts, but I can try to manage how I maneuver through the storms. I invite you on this journey and welcome you to join in with your thoughts, comments, or stories of your own.