Handling the Changing Landscape

by Alice Outwater, Ph.D.

As a caretaker, one must be nimble as things change considerably from day to day. My husband can be fairly energetic, delighted to go out for lunch and a little walk — then the next two days wants to sit in the house and do nothing but read a bit. I find him hard to understand: is his energy down or is it stubbornness?
On some outings there is nary a complaint; he hears me clearly, is humorous and makes total sense. I am grateful to experience his former self when he was fine company. We were so in tune, our thoughts would play off one another, and we would end up with the most intelligent conversations.
Now I’ve had to adjust my expectations, accept his focus on himself, and stay determined not to neglect myself. Those days of breezing through life are gone; now everything must be carefully planned and thought out. He moves and thinks more slowly; I have to explain things two and three times. I find it best to make light of any problems and solve them myself. This adjustment necessitates a big shift in our relationship and thinking.
I still enjoy some of his oft-repeated stories, especially those from childhood. As we relish our candlelit dinner and finish dessert, I place a Cadbury nut and raisin chocolate bar by his place. It is endearing how thoughtfully he peels back the wrapper and breaks off four pieces for himself, then divvies the rest up for me. Many nights he recalls, “During World War II the rationing in England was stringent, but once a week each child was allotted a 4-1/2 ounce Cadbury bar. Of course, I measured mine to last all seven days, and you cannot imagine what a luxury this was.” I visualize him as a freckle-faced, 12-year-old boy, waiting patiently for his ration and figuring out how to make it last the longest. We slowly savor our pieces . . . and I feel touched to be included in his generosity. This poignant ritual has continued for years; now each evening it nearly moves me to tears.
But there are also the difficult days. How do I handle these without feeling drowned? Emily Pronin, Ph.D. Assistant Professor of Psychology at Princeton University, advises thinking fast, which may cause mood-boosting chemical changes in the brain. I try quickly to come up with different options on the more tedious days. I recently realized it’s not the size of the treat as much as the pleasure it gives me: arrange a little outing with an upbeat companion, perform a random act of kindness, go walking, settle in the library or bookstore for an hour or so, spend time with a few vivacious friends.
A sense of accomplishment also contributes to my well-being. When I go to my office as a psychologist and see clients, I enter a totally different world. It is sheer delight to help others solve their dilemmas and problems, no matter how difficult. It refreshes me and expands my energy.
Writing produces satisfaction. I must organize my thoughts and put them down in an appealing fashion, find the exact phrase or word, and come up with a coherent whole. The final lift is finding these in print — to me, this is the ultimate sharing.
Any of the above activities allow me to normalize. I’m then freed to move forward with a project, adding a satisfying sense of accomplishment.
I try to be creative and bring brightness into my life so I can somehow transmit this light to my husband. Each day offers new surprises and opportunities. For these I am grateful.