King Tide 🌊

Snells Beach king tide

I’ve shared some of the amazing opportunities that have made their way into my world, recently. Today was no exception. Yet, it was different from the other’s because this was a quiet secret between Abba Father and me, that came true.

Today, I had the absolute privilege and deepest of honours, of being interviewed by one of Neil, Sammy’s and my favourite TV presenters, Derek Gilbert. When I received the initial invitation to be interviewed by Derek, about my book My Way, it came on the day that I was interviewed for Radio NZ, and landed the monthly blog with Alzheimer’s Association. To have all three things happen in one day, was complete emotional overload for me. And here’s the reason why.

Some of you may remember that at the beginning of our last lockdown, we made the difficult decision to shut down SparkleMoon Publishing. I was in no way wanting to keep it up, or keep hemorrhaging money anymore. On top of that, a new lockdown, homeschooling and getting very sick, just made for time out. I didn’t like being a Publisher to other people, at all. One client I had, literally had me in tears on a constant basis. Also, I didn’t like the way I had been treated by some people within certain sectors of the Literary world, and so we stopped everything. Then, as only our heavenly Father can do, I got set up! I received a very unexpected call, by the NZ distributor of my books, and he essentially had a word for me – do what you need, make the appropriate changes, but PLEASE don’t shut down completely. He spoke of the tide having been out and a hard season about to turn into a massive King tide. Living at the beach, I knew exactly what he was saying. I promised him I would pray about the situation and speak with Neil.

None of us knew that within two weeks, these three opportunities would come up. None of us knew that My Way would sell out several times over and it would be difficult to fulfill the orders.

Amazing grace.

Some may think that I am showing off, skiting or thinking “look at me” – and I can assure you, nothing is further from the truth. Like my father before me, I suffer “stage fright” (or anxiety as we call it in the modern age) and I actually hate being the centre of attention. This anxiety has caused me much heartache and sorrow, and at times has been utterly debilitating. To the point where I no longer want contact with most of the outside world. I have found even the most simple things, incredibly difficult. Yet I know, that this whole journey of writing about Dementia has chosen me, and I must be faithful to God’s call. I must speak out about Dementia, and bring God’s truth, healing, word and light into an otherwise dark callous disease. I must conquer my own fears, and speak on behalf of those who no longer can. I can no longer run from this call. And I no longer want too.

The time is now.

Do I want to make sales from this book? Yes, I do. I want to give back to those who have sown into me and carried me through such a difficult season. Especially my beloved husband. He is a Rock Star 🌟 Without his love, prayers and constant hand holding, I wouldn’t be doing anything other than growing our garden and working as a cleaner!! Neil has given me the confidence I sorely lacked, to chase after my dreams, and given me wings to fly, so to speak. Whilst I’ve felt my wings have been clipped for a season, I believe the tide is now turning. But I’m also aware, I need to sort through this anxiety, once and for all. There’s no room for faith and fear to co-exist any longer.

So, I don’t know what 2022 will bring for this world, or indeed for this family. But one thing I do know, is that God is faithful. And that’s enough for me πŸ™‚

Happy New Year friends, may it truly be blessed!! πŸŽ‰πŸŽŠπŸ₯³πŸ™

Sandi xx

Dad Update

The handsome one!

Well, here we are still in some kind of lockdown – in my case, Level three. I think it’s day 63, but don’t quote me!!

We’ve been keeping in touch with Dad via phone and Skype. He is so delightful!! He’s been wearing a cap that isn’t his, but he’s just so darn proud of it πŸ€£πŸ˜„ Funny thinking my Dad goes ‘shopping’ in his own ward!

We sing Frank Sinatra songs, I reintroduce him to my husband and children, and he tells me what he’s currently eating. When I tell him he is my father and I am his daughter, that means nothing to him. He smiles. It’s ok, we’re used to that. He thought being a Poppa was a hoot – albeit he has no frame of reference for that either…

Having spoken with his doctor, I was surprised to hear that Dad has been the happiest he’s been in years. He’s joining in with activities, he’s put on weight, and he’s just had his vaccination. A far cry from the man who was rushed to hospital just three months ago. It’s all a bit odd really πŸ€”

In navigating the highs and lows of yet another lockdown, I for one am so darn thankful that Dad is safe and healthy – and I look forward to my next Skype with him.

I wonder what song we will sing? 🎡🎢

Hands

I was just sitting in the back of the car while Neil drove, Dad sat in the front, singing his heart out to Frank Sinatra. I was remembering. Times spent with Dad, in the home and the trips that we frequently take him on.

One such time, we went to Waiwera, and found ourselves in an area that was not too familiar with me. It was along a single road, on the beachfront, but in an area that was quite private. We parked the car, and I helped Dad out. It was a lovely sunny day, so we ventured onto the beach, however, Dad seemed a bit unstable, so I held his hand to steady him.

It was odd. I hadn’t held Dad’s hand like that, since I was sixteen years old. One remembers these things. The moments when subtle little changes become the norm, and holding hands with your father was no longer the ‘done’ thing.

But on this particular day, he needed me. And I was there. I guess the little girl in me, needed him in that moment too. It didn’t last long, but it was just us, just a special moment in our collective history, that will always remain with me.

Walking through the home, alongside Neil, I held Dad’s hand again today. He was a little nervous, as we had to walk a different way than usual, but he gripped my hand as I led him through the maze of hallways.

He can’t think of much to say at the moment, but he does remark time and again, how much he enjoys Neil and I! It’s lovely. His shock of hair standing on end, his teeth seemed to have moved and he’s developed a lisp now. His hands, like my Nana’s, are bony and slender. His appetite seems to have returned, which is a big relief!

My Dad. Bony hands and all. How I love him.

Sandi πŸ™‚

The Father

I knew walking into the theatre, that I was setting myself up for an abundance of emotion and tears. And I wasn’t wrong. But it turns out, they weren’t mine. Well, not till the last five minutes, and then I felt myself crack.

To my left was a young couple, who found the content too much, and left part way through the movie, utterly sobbing. With all of the best intentions, I wanted to go to that young lady and tell her it was ok, that she wasn’t alone. I wanted to give her a hug and tell her I completely understand; but I actually don’t.

You see, for each of us who are the child of a Dementia sufferer, there are coping mechanisms we have formed; there are emotions we won’t show; there are areas where our experiential expertise don’t cover. And therefore, whilst we should have empathy and compassion for all concerned, we shouldn’t go butting our imposter noses into other’s suffering. We need to be invited into the suffering, then offer ourselves to the one hurting.

The movie, ‘The Father’ is a brilliant portrayal of a Dementia sufferer, through his own eyes. I clicked onto that notion with a couple of scenes at the beginning of the movie. As the storyline unfolded, evidence of my own Dad, came raring to the forefront, and I was left feeling somewhat vindicated.

The non stop comparisons. The nit picking. The angry outbursts of swearing and cursing. The silent treatment. The endless demands. The accusations of being up to no good. These are all things that my Dad heaped on me, time and time again. Fortunately I have a wonderful husband, great brothers and a mother with the patience of a Saint – although since long divorced from my Dad – still a loving friend and a great listening ear for me.

If any of you are either curious, or have a loved one battling Dementia or Alzheimer’s, then I thoroughly encourage you to go and see this movie. It helps tremendously. It gives such a compelling insight into the mind of a former intellect, who now is at the mercy of this dreaded affliction. Anthony Hopkins gives a stellar performance, bringing all the pain, emotion and frustration right towards you.


I walked into Dad’s Dementia unit the other day, and there he was, sitting having a cup of tea and biscuits. His hair sticking up like a scarecrow, runny nose and scruffy jumper aside, the smile that greets you, is immense. He’s like a kid in a candy store, and he knows he’s about to have a lot of candy! Always the question, ‘are we going out now for something to eat then a drive up north?’ Always, a kiss and hug and the words, ‘you’re the best thing in the world.’ Of course I am; I’m the Sugar Fairy and Taxi operator! πŸ™‚

Coming back from our afternoon excursion, I was shocked to see a formerly vibrant and active resident, now needing a carer on both sides, to assist her walking. Colleen, was a gummy bear, who refused to wear her teeth; could swear like a trooper; and propositioned my husband on our first day there, asking him to meet her in the laundry afterwards! She loved dancing, and could flirt up a storm; if only in her own mind. It was nothing for her to stroke my arm and do a little jig with me, then start weeping. On the flipside, she could spot me across the room and start marching towards yelling expletives, and promising to ‘get me!’

My heart is saddened, for I know the day will come when my Dad will need that kind of help too.

In the meantime, when he sits in the cafΓ© with us, his latest fixation is on the ‘fire exit’ sign, alongside the ‘toilets’ sign. His most recent revelation? Toilets are where you go poos and wees!!

In the meantime, be blessed and take care.
Sandi