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Showing posts from January 8, 2012

Evita

Dreams are odd. I have had a couple recently where I have been cast in an amateur production of Evita, and I am playing, guess who? Evita herself. I say this with my hair in a bun and......pause.... arms raised out to...pause..... you, with a dramatic expression, yet slightly humble frown, all at the same...pause.... time.

Its one of the final rehearsals when I finally decide to show up. I haven't studied any of the songs and I can't even find a script. I'm trying to read the lyrics from a Best of Show Tunes CD! 
In dreams and reality, I cant sing very well. I live with a love/fear of singing solo. Occasionally
I do my Phantom of the Bathroom bit, yet my Susan Boyle ambitions quickly get flushed, as I realize I sound like a teenage male choir going through a change of life while Julie Andrews practices a New Zealand rugby chant.

Singing and dancing are two of those things that I think I will be good at, until I'm in the middle of doing them.
For example, once at a part…

Giving Up

I have heard this said before and never truly tried it, so here goes.

With arms raised high I declare that I can not solve this and I give up! Not in a sad or a victim manner. I give up with grace and simplicity.

Solutions to Alzheimer's dramas and stress are not easy. Blessed with creativity and a careless regard for telling lies, you would have thought that I of all people would know what to do, how and when. That four years into this lifestyle that I would have written a book by now and Lifetime would be begging for a copy of the script.


Sadly not. Each day presents a new twist. Each day a realization that things are seen through gray colored glasses, everything a foreign language with the wrong subtitles. My stories regarding phone calls that frighten him, then become grand tales which then themselves become issues to worry about. Trips to the grocery store or mail box are like a pilgrimages to a shrine. Fear, dread, a little joy, expansive energy, tenderness, pain, anger, sor…