Getting Into the Swing of Things

 Well now. It's July 24th--more to help me with my own bearings than you, dear reader, with your's. 

My memory while "fairly" stable is changing in a way. Having never been "here" before, I find it hard to describe. While some things are still sharply in focus, there are other memories that are as though they appear through a blurry window. I can recall the memory generally, but cannot bring it into true focus. I am learning to let go of that frustration--it is not helpful. I remember learning that lesson with my mother as she struggled with her own memory. My mother's way of handling it was to "fill in the blank spots" with hyperbole and imagination. That might sound entertaining, yet it was frightening to experience. My mother was an angry person most especially upon developing Alzheimer's. I sincerely hope I do not go down that route. I believe her own way of dealing with her memory issues was to blame other people for deceiving her. Ralph is exceedingly honest and already calls me on things I say or do that appear to be reflecting my choice of building my own reality. LOL It is all good as far as I am concerned.

Ralph and I are exceedingly fortunate to have a family far and wide. Our local family includes our friends from being long time contra dancers as well as friends of ours from our time as parents of school-age children. In my role as a caregiver support person I have come into contact with many supportive folks in the caregiving world whom I plan on touching base with fairly soon to get some relationships "reset." 

Even though there are only the two of us living here now--well, that's not quite accurate. We do have Bonnie and Clyde who keep us loved and very honest in their canine sort of way. I have already had meaningful visits with Thomas and Felix which warmed my heart and helped me feel "safe' in a way that I didn't want to acknowledge I needed. 

Learning to live with Alzheimer's, I believe, is learning to live honestly with one's limitations and with one's needs for support.  Both of those things: limitations and needs for support, will change over time. Sometimes the changes will be fearful, surprising, and bring relief. 

Living with Alzheimer's is simply that...living. I look forward to continuing this journey for as long as I can. See you all around.

Long Time, No Write

 I previously wrote blog posts more frequently. Life has been hectic, busy, interrupted, and interrupting.

So, I find myself in words that I type, more than those I speak. I have recently been diagnosed with Alzheimer's and find it amusing that I continue to be able to write with ease. I am guessing because I am not "remembering" but rather inventing on the spot.

So, we will see how this goes. I am aware that I am not the only individual with Alzheimer's who is sharing their journey online. I am continuing my journey as a writer of nonfiction.

So, today is June 30, 2026.

A little background. I am married (35 years). I have two awesome sons. I am a published author of two non-fiction books: Love, then Listen and also Relentless Love, the Tenacity of God. I am proud to say that I also am a co-author of an awesomely helpful book for those caregivers who are looking for spiritual support entitled "Tapestry of Love, the Spirituality of Caregiving." Caregiving is a hard job, difficult exactly because of the affection involved in the care that is given.  I have been a caregiver in some form or another over the last 30 years or so. Some of you who already know me will know these things about me.

When I write something like a blog post, I share "immediate" things without a whole lot of introspection. You are invited to let me know if you have a question or curiosity about me or my work. 

I am trained as a spiritual director. Previously, I was a licensed minister in the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ). I also have about 40 years' experience as a legal secretary. Oy. How is that possible? I greatly enjoyed being a secretary actually. I am a born listener! 

As I continue writing this blog, you will get to know my family which includes my husband and our two sons as well as our two "magnificent" hound-mix dogs, Bonnie & Clyde. We have had these two since they were puppies and they are now 3. Ufdah. What an adventure that has been. You may even be graced by their photos at some point..

Being a Wounded Healer

I am a wounded healer.  I have been a caregiver in some capacity all my life.  God has gifted me with the capacity to listen with a compassionate heart.  I use those gifts every day.

Recently, I posted the following on my Facebook account: Ham salad...check; deviled eggs...check.
I've hit a wall. I've refused to think about why I was preparing these foods. I'll go get a shower and let it all out. I'm tired of death. I'm tired of grieving. Ufdah. Love you all out there. God's solace is there for me, too. Please keep the Delk family in your prayers.   I was instructed by two things: (1) the limited response to that post that I received on Facebook and (2) the rousing response I received to that post off Facebook. 

As caregivers, we are strong.  Yet, also as caregivers, we are broken.  Part of supporting caregivers is allowing them to be wherever they are -- strong or broken or a little bit of both.  Be not surprised!

Over the last 8 weeks, I have lost three people who have been very deeply embeded in my heart.  The first was Lonnie, an older gentleman who had been a mentor and friend; the second was Wesley, a member of my dance community killed in a senseless act of violence; and the third was Lyman, an elder-emeritus at my church, a man who always had a kind, supportive word for me.  My grieving work has only just begun.

I have posted previously this summer about the importance of doing that work--the work of grieving.  Of allowing it all to be there, to come in its waves, and to recede.  Now comes the part of being a wounded healer.  I cannot separate the two.  I am wounded, yes.  Yet, I am a healer too.  I found myself three weeks ago desperately wanting to be able to separate those two, yet not really.  God has given me the ability to listen, to be present to others in their grief, to pray, to say what needs to be heard.  I simply cannot, at this time in my spiritual journey, say no to God.

God gifts us with abilities and desires us to use them as needed.  So even in our own grief, we can speak from a place of compassion for others--AND OURSELVES.  Even though we are healers, it is important for each and every caregiver to realize that compassion is there for us as well as those for whom we care.  God's perfect solace is there for others--AND OURSELVES, as we grieve the losses in our lives.  We must remember to open our hearts just a titch and allow that solace to seep into the  wounds we carry.

Yes, I am a caregiver.  I am a wounded healer.  I live. I love.  I lose.  I grieve.  I listen.  I pray.  God is there.  God is good.  All the time.

Grace abounds,
Daphne