Teaching our children well goes beyond classroom curriculum

       

       

According to German author, Jean Paul, “the conscience of children is formed by the influences that surround them; their notions of good and evil are the result of the moral atmosphere they breathe.”

Take a moment and re-read those words and think about what they mean. Think about what they meant when you were growing up, when you were raising children, when you’re influencing grandchildren.

Now, think about all those children who grew up and are growing up without many or no positive influences to guide them and help set their ‘moral compass’ and build an emotional quotient. Today’s latchkey children are in trouble, people. They are barely getting by because there is not enough consistency with active adults in their world doing what needs to be done. Children were not meant to parent themselves.

Then, think about 12 such children with no on track moral compass in a classroom joined by10 others who have been schooled, coached, encouraged, included, praised and gently pushed into being productive, contributing little citizens in their communities. Each of them, in a second grade class, sitting at a desk, with the adult standing at the front of the room. She calls out the class list. All present and accounted for; the lesson begins. It was to be a math lesson with a counting game and flash cards and M&Ms. The teacher referenced Tiny Tim and Christmas and being poor and how much things cost in the days of A Christmas Carol. Most 7-8 year olds know about Tiny Tim.

Three of the children who’ve not yet mastered the ‘sit down and sit still’ MO of classroom etiquette are up and wandering around at the back of the room; one of them is playing with a truck and the other 2 want a turn zoom, zoom, zooming it on the floor. Did they forget that class is in session? The teacher quietly makes her way to the three ‘lost little lambs’ and herds them back to their seats, picking up where she left off. Ten minutes have passed while she was talking about the story of Tiny Tim, with many hands raised anxious to ask their question. One of the three didn’t raise his hand. He just blurted out a question while standing up by his seat, pulling on his sweater and weaving back and forth. He was asked to ‘sit down, please’, but he was having none of it. Off he went to go through a box of games the teacher made available for children staying in at recess. Again, he was asked to take his seat. He started screaming. The entire class collapses into chaos. Has the teacher lost control? Hmm.

The teacher does something totally unexpected; she takes her chair and puts it into the corner and sits down, facing into the wall. All goes quiet. The children who were disrupting the lesson are back in their seats. Waiting. She continues to sit, not moving. Silence!

After what seems ages, the teacher turns around, facing the class, to let them know that the  children who would not sit down really hurt her feelings. She tries so hard to make their days fun and interesting and it’s hurtful when some of the children won’t sit down and paticipate. She realizes that some children learn by being busy and noisy and into everything, but part of the lesson requires that they sit still. She would rather have the days filled with different types of learning but she has rules to follow; a curriculum. She turned to face the corner again. She waited. More time for everyone to settle.

Across the province and across the country, teachers are faced with numerous challenges that fall outside the realm of curriculum delivery. The emotional health of certain children in their class may sometimes dictate course direction and/or correction.  Meeting their needs with a unique teaching method is a way to educate the entire class. There’s method in the madness.

The teacher’s plan to have a math lesson was shelved; instead she opted to have a discussion — a discussion about feelings. The unsettled children were asked to form a circle and the others joined. Each in their turn, starting with the ones who couldn’t sit still, was asked what they did that morning before coming to school. The mornings for a few of the children didn’t get off to a good start. Those who received positive regard from Mom and Dad offered some advice. The teacher sat quietly and listened to the unfolding lesson as children exchanged experiences and feelings and ways to make things better for tomorrow.

Teaching and learning isn’t always about sit down and sit still so when the situation warrants devoting the entire class time to sharing feelings, that’s the way to go. Ultimately, it will have more staying power than learning  the multiplication tables. There’s time for 9x8 another 

day.

Carla MacInnis Rockwell is a freelance writer and disability rights advocate living outside Fredericton, NB with her aging Australian silky terrier and a rambunctious Maltese. She can be reached via email at carmacrockwell@xplornet.ca 

Reaching out to seniors experiencing pet loss

Sketches of Miss Lady the Westie and Mr. Clancy the Cairn

created by Lynne Saintonge, Canadian Painter and Visual Artist

        Many of us have experienced pet loss at some point in our lives, whether it’s a turtle when we were 4, the family dog when we were 10, or first chosen pet cat when we still lived with  our parents. All those losses were lessons in humaneness and the importance of being kind.

When a senior loses a pet, it’s more than the passing of Fido or Fluffy who was loved and cared for every moment of life. It’s so much more, and caregivers and health care professionals need to be alert to the needs of a senior facing the prospect of a life without their faithful friend. Seniors and others considered ‘at risk’, living on their own with no daily companionship of fellow humans often seek comfort and connection with a pet; a dog or a cat. Caring for a pet develops a daily routine — a series of intimate rituals with another living being.

In 1992-1993, my husband and I coped with the deaths of 5 animals in an 8-month period; the first, was almost 7 year old Mr. Clancy, a Cairn terrier. In the middle of a snowstorm, we drove to our Fredericton veterinarian on Boxing Day of 1992 to get help for our little guy. My husband dropped me off at Luna Pizza where I raised a few glasses to the tenacious one; I couldn’t bring myself to attend at his crossing Rainbow Bridge. When we returned from the vet’s, a cat that had been missing for months and thought dead was sitting on the porch steps.  That cat tale another time.

In the summer of 1993, we first bade farewell to Miss Lady, a 20 year old Westhighland White Terrier. A senior Shih-Tzu, Miss Pepper, adopted a few weeks later was only with us for a short time. Unbeknownst to us at adoption was that she had throat cancer; her previous owner died of throat cancer not long after. 

Two of the original Charlotte Street cats left us as well; Mr. Basil (the black) walked back to Fredericton weeks after we moved to the country. The vet and we agreed to leave him in the care of his Charlotte Street friends. Mr. Hansel, a klutz of a cat, dropped dead in the kitchen after a massive heart attack. He was a dog’s best friend.

In 1994, we adopted two Cairn terrier brothers, Mr. Alex and Mr. Jake; the house was lively again when they joined 4 resident cats. Sadly Mr. Alex was not long-lived and after 4 years of his company, we then carried on with his brother and the felines. The behaviour of all demonstrated an acknowledgement of his passing. They knew.

Later, at the deaths of the two eldest cats, the former barn cat twin brothers from next door, stepped in to their new role as ‘senior cats of the house’. The circle of life continues. 

The last pet to pass away while my husband was still alive was one of the ‘senior fellows’; several months earlier, his littermate had been struck by a car and killed. We were not able to recover his body for burial. 

Fast forward to 2007, when we were three — my husband, me, and Mr. Jake, the 16 year old Cairn terrier. In September of that year, my husband passed away. In November, Mr. Jake succumbed to heart disease. In January of 2008, my father, a well-respected physician in Bath, passed away.

Those fortunate enough to have an open communication with their physician that allows them to talk about their pet during an office visit will feel less anxiety about conversations regarding their pet’s health as they age. Knowing what other layers make up the life of a senior patient allows care personnel to act accordingly; a senior stressed about a health crisis of an aging pet will benefit from guidance from their own doctors, who then have opportunity to network with local vet clinics and shelters to create  safety nets of service for a patient who needs help. ElderDog Canada, one such service, provides a valuable supports and is a phone call away.

The aging pet poses lots of challenges especially for seniors fixed incomes who often base decisions of care on finances. It’s important for older pet owners to open lines of communication with their veterinarian very early on with any new pet they adopt. Certainly, vet practices have financial obligations of their own but they’re not totally unfeeling when it comes to the needs of their patients and their people. If you don’t ask, you don’t get. It was through my own vet that I adopted Mr. Digby and Miss Lexie.

Conversations about feelings attached to impending pet loss or the passing of a beloved pet must not be minimized by those in our circle who are not pet people, for whom dogs and cats were never part of their daily lives. For so many of us, ‘pets are people, too.’

Carla MacInnis Rockwell is a freelance writer and disability rights advocate living outside Fredericton, NB with her aging Australian silky terrier and a rambunctious Maltese. She can be reached via email at carmacrockwell@xplornet.ca 

Aging in place: Chez Rockwell is the space for me

Co-housing, aging in place; aging together. It’s a trend gaining in popularity in Canada, the US and around the world, having its origins in Denmark. To me, it makes a lot of sense but it’s not to be entered into lightly — rather like marriage. It takes committment and a lot of work each and every day.

In New Brunswick,  as was the case in many provinces across the country, most families were comprised of several generations living under one roof back in the day when farming communities were thriving and it was ‘all hands’ to work the land. At the time, gender played a role with regard to tasks. Today, men and women have a hand in all manner of shared tasks which works well when combined with communication and compromise.

Communication and compromise are the glues that keep a relationship intact and growing and going along in a healthy, constructive and productive way. That’s why co-housing makes sense, especially for lifelong friends who believe they’d do better with each other than on their own. Together, they have a better chance of not becoming nursing home statistics. Government take heed. Real estate developers and builders, listen up. We need to rethink where and how our seniors live. 

When we lose the supports of the traditional family dynamic, through death, or family members moving to other locations around the world, we begin to feel the stress that those changes impose upon our daily lives. Our physical and emotional health often takes a hit and we experience one or more health situations that may not exist were we not on our own. A viable solution is to share the new reality with others, whether a close friend, or someone interviewed through the process of finding a housemate or 2 or even 3. Sort of like the multi-generational family farm without the farm.

Co-housing also means sharing the bills and the responsibilities of the house, going beyond practical financial arrangements. It’s cheaper to live with somebody else while at the same time contributing to our physical and emotional wellness. Sharing and caring together enhances quality of life and puts off an often inevitable transition into nursing home/assisted living care.

New Brunswick needs co-housing, as people currently aging in place alone in sprawling homes that are becomg more difficult to maintain, would be far better served sharing with a long time friend in a similar situation. The financial health of the province’s systems of care would also improve as they would be less burdened with people who would be far happier in a space that’s easier to manage. Co-housing combines the best features of home ownership with the added layers of security, companionship, community spaces in buildings that are on the ‘campus’, within walking distance. Movie nights and pot luck suppers in the community lounge. Then, back to your own private home with your housemate. You own it. It’s yours. Having places to go and people to see is far better than any anti-anxiety medication or sleeping pill. The possibilities for a long term ‘people prescription’ are endless.

I believe that developers in this province and beyond would do well to embrace the idea of co-operative housing units, which include all the features that are critical to safety. Invaluable would be consulting  with persons with challenges to daily living who know, based on life experience, what would be needed in a home for older people who want to ‘age in place’. Ask me about kitchens.

The cost of purchasing a property in a senior cohousing community is comparable to buying a house in a traditional community; further, buying a home in a newer development, downsizing to a smaller property, can reduce maintenance and overhead costs such as utility bills. To further reduce expenses, some senior cohousing communities also encourage neighbors to share resources such as lawn maintenance equipment. What a great way to meet `n greet.

Fredericton, in particular, and New Brunswick, in general, is ideally suited to multi-generational co-housing, given that Fredericton is a ‘university town’, and New Brunswick has several university campuses and lots of students in need of housing. Friendships across generations is critical to emotional health and wellness — ask any senior who only gets to see grandchildren a few times a year, if that.  

Co-housing with age related peers and multi-generational cohousing contribute to improved physical health, reduces the number of seniors living in poverty, which impacts wellness. In my view, cohousing is necessary for survival, particularly for those ‘at risk’ populations who would benefit from a sustained people connection. To learn more, visit Canada Co-housing Network.

For myself, if I was fortunate enough to match with a compatible housemate, I’d certainly be amenable to opening the doors of Chez Rockwell to a roomie. Must love dogs! 

Carla MacInnis Rockwell is a freelance writer and disability rights advocate living outside Fredericton, NB with her aging Australian silky terrier and a rambunctious Maltese. She can be reached via email at carmacrockwell@xplornet.ca

If I keep walking, I won’t forget to remember

        “Just 6 months of walking may reverse cognitive decline”, finds a recent study reported in the American Journal of Neurology. Imagine that! 

       We don’t need yet another study to know that physical movement contributes to overall health and wellness, especially if it’s done in clean, fresh air. Unless we’re living on the moon, not lost on us is that we  don’t spend enough time outside and today’s children are at risk of a range of health-related conditions that can be prevented if they’d just prise themselves away from technology and get outside and play. That’s what children are supposed to do, right?

       Even those such as I, with challenges to mobility, appreciate that if we don’t move it, we lose it. In the course of a day, I get in a lot of walking - all of it purposeful. I have places to go and things to do, in and around my home. Winter weather keeps me inside most of the time but I’m far from sedentary. My outside time is most assuredly purposeful, clearing piddle paths for the dogs — one at the front of the house, outside the garage, and another inside their pen, clearing off the ramp that goes down into it and then shovelling a short path so they’ll actually get off the porch! They should be getting down on their hairy little knees and thanking God that I haven’t fallen on my face into a snow bank. Should that happen, their lives and my own would potentially be inextricably changed for ever.

       With 2019 will be my coming of age. I’ll be a certificate of authenticity stamped senior citizen. The big 65! To sustain any sort of fall down and go boom episode could mean the difference between living independently or becoming a nursing home resident long before my time. My goal is to avoid that lifestyle for as long as possible, if not entirely. Because I’ve spent a number of years renovating/
redesigning/reconfiguring in and around my current home to make it functional and safe, I’d be hard-pressed to move. Moving to the city, however, would be an ideal solution to a range of growing problems, though another way to resolve the situation would be to have a housemate. Co-housing makes sense. That way, given my advancing age, I could still ‘walk this way’ in familiar surroundings and have someone with whom to interact on a daily basis.

       Purposeful walking and its concurrent brain training is critical to someone like me, already living with a neurological insult. Keeping the brain fine tuned through movement goes a long way to ensuring that my legs will be able to continue patterning the movements taught to me over many years in childhood.

       During the colder weather, beginning in late October and going through March, I keep my brain and body in shape by stair climbing. Real stairs, people!

       Four times a day, at 6 hour intervals, I go to the den to put compressed wood bricks in the stove. The first set of stairs, from the living room has a railing on either side. The stairs going to the den have a railing on one side; medical grade grab bars have been strategically place on the wall spaces just above my head so that I may make the trek safely. 

       Years of practice in knowing where to position my hands on any given surfaces has allowed me to confidently move about. People who have watched me in action find that it’s all very fluid/seamless. Stair climbing is a challenge because I cannot lift my foot sufficiently to execute the steps up, up, up. I essentially have to swing my foot onto the step and then pull myself along. 

       A series of exercises I’ve done for years without assistance continue to ensure my upright mobility. The set of range of motion exercises undertaken with me by the team from Extra-Mural were ones that I could not and will not be able to do on my own. Once we’re into the warm weather, there will be another round of scheduled visits to work my legs so I may continue to go up and down the stairs. So that I may safely be able to put food dishes on the floor, and  to tether the dogs at the laundry room door. Yup! Having a pet keeps me healthy and on the move. Memories are made of this.

Carla MacInnis Rockwell is a freelance writer and disability rights advocate living outside Fredericton, NB with her aging Australian silky terrier and a rambunctious Maltese. She can be reached via email at carmacrockwell@xplornet.ca 

Adults can set the path to prevent bullying

December 17, 2018 

Bullying continues to pose risk to both the bullied and the bully and it’s no stretch to say that the immediacy of the internet and the gratification it provides is cause for alarm.  “Am I pretty enough?”  “Am I smart enough?” “Oh, look, I got a new dress. I must post a pic of it so all my Facebook friends may admire it.” If you don’t register enough ‘likes’, you’re at risk of being bullied. Sad but true.

What happens once the rush, the thrill is gone?  Many of us who grew up in vastly different, less stressful times have thoughts on how to curb bullying. Unplug! Have real, meaningful conversations with your children and grandchildren about the impact of bullying. Teachers have opportunity to open the door wide to dialogue about how bullying is affecting the students who are in their care for several hours each day, 5 days a week. Conversation is cathartic.

While developing this commentary, I chatted with one of my childhood friends, Nancy (Giberson) Everett, a long-time teacher in Stanley. Her youngest son, Jesse, now 30, lives with challenges to daily living; both Jesse and I were diagnosed with cerebral palsy as youngsters but neither of us fully fits the profile; ours were  ‘umbrella’ diagnoses.

“Jesse was so fortunate to have older siblings who would have beaten the living crap out of anyone who hurt him in any way; a best friend in high school, David Sparkes, ate lunch with him and sat beside him in all his classes. Also, because Jesse was with the same group of kids forever, they were just ‘used’ to him.” Nancy goes on to say that “ a supply teacher at the school who graduated with Jesse said recently that she didn't really ever think of Jesse as having a disability when he was in school.” 

Nancy went on to reminisce about our own childhood to say — “I think that is how I saw you as my neighbour friend; you were a girl who I could play with and spend time with instead of boys all the time.  I never thought of you as having any sort of disability — we just figured out ways that we could do stuff together without the boys.  Looking back, I didn’t see you as having a disability; I remember playing with your Barbies, bike rides to the drugstore, skipping in the yard.  Those are the memories I have.”

As for myself, I remember Nancy teaching me how to skip rope, my knees banging together with each tiny jump off the ground. Bruised knees featured prominently in my childhood.

Our mothers had occasion to supply teach in our local schools so we had to be on good behaviour; that’s just how it was. In primary and elementary, I was the only girl with mobility challenges; an older boy who attended the Catholic Church, as my family did, lived with a polio-like condition that featured intellectual delays. He would drop in to school from time to time for

the socialization. There were other older high school students who lived with disability but there was never a hint of bullying. We were a part of the community and that’s  the way it was. 

In grade 12, according to his Dad, “Jesse was in the Coop class with another dozen students, assigned to do his placement at the Nashwaak Villa assisting the Activities Director. After graduation,  we approached Jobs Unlimited to see what they could offer Jesse.  They took him under their wing and continued his placement at the Villa.  Jobs Unlimited hired someone to work with Jesse for a few months, assisting him with routines, and other skills. Currently, Jesse gets a few days each month working at the facility and is a much loved part of the elder care support team. And best of all, Jesse loves his time at the Villa.”

I’m pleased to know that Jesse is doing so well, as he gets on with living in spite of challenges. When I read that he was nominated for the Planetree Scholar Award and flew to Boston in October to accept it, I was so pleased for him and for his family.  His father proudly shared that, in 2015, Jesse was honored by the Third Age Centre with the "George Wakeling Award Honourable Mention" for his volunteerism at the Villa.

Jesse is an example of a young man who wasn’t a bully target in school. How adults in their world handle things from the outset determine the smoothness of the path, as young people with challenges move through the milestones of their lives. Jesse, with a supportive network of family and friends, had all the ducks lined up from the moment he ventured out into the world.

Carla MacInnis Rockwell is a freelance writer and disability rights advocate living outside Fredericton, NB with her aging Australian silky terrier and a rambunctious Maltese. She can be reached via email at carmacrockwell@xplornet.ca 

The bullies and the bullied: a growing crisis

        As I read the headlines, splashed across many newspapers around the world, I was at once disgusted and sickened to know that such a thing could happen so close to home. ‘Such a thing’ was the blatant abuse of Brett Corbett, a student at Glace Bay High School, in Nova Scotia. Brett lives with cerebral palsy.

During lunch break, while at school, Mr. Corbett, was bullied into lying down in a stream, his body used as a bridge by the main instigator — a girl. The young man initially said it was a dare, though later investigations revealed that he was threatened by the girl, whose name was not published.

We all know that children bully. Why do some children bully, day after day after day without consequence? What makes a person a target, to be abused from first grade to 7th, to 12th? These question do have answers. Setting the stage to draw them out, in the form of round table discussions, could help. Organize groups, based on age appropriateness, develop the questions and then discuss the issues to pull out the answers. 

Girls bully, too! And they’re vicious. Why are they so vicious? What’s going on in their world that put them in the position of being a bully? Is their father a bully? Is their mother a bully? Are they being bullied by a sibling, older or younger? Children learn what they live and they act out on that. Some children go too far, with no filter, because no one has shown them, told them on a consistent basis what is and what is not acceptable.

The ‘fairer sex’ is more prone to a particular form of bullying, relational bullying, that has serious and potentially life altering or sadly, life ending consequences in some cases. They may use ostracism, rumour spreading or gossip to sabotage another child's peer relationships and isolate him from the group. 

I know why Brett went along with the demand put upon him. Like Brett, I live with cerebral palsy, but I grew up at a time when bullying wasn’t so overt. In fact, even covert bullying wasn’t part of my world when I was in grade school. Brett subjected himself to the abuses because he thought it would gain him acceptance. He wanted to fit in. Don’t we all? What he didn’t expect was how it would really make him feel — to see all those people gathered around, pointing and jeering at him, the object of their collective taunts. That had to hurt — a lot.

In complying, however, he gave up his personhood in that moment, and in the moments that followed with all those bystanders pointing and laughing. No one stepping in to stop it, to say it was wrong. Did this go beyond bullying? I assert that it did. It was a hate crime. Hate crimes against persons with disability are often under- or never reported because the victim and perpetrator know each other and fear of escalation is a concern. As such, school administration has a duty to address it in a way that is impactful and not simply dismissed as a youthful prank.

Abuses can be anything from a push, a shove, kicked away crutch or a cane, blocking a wheeelchair user from passing by you or in front of you. In school, bullying can come in the form of being excluded, never picked for team sports, even though the disability won’t compromise inclusion. All of those slings and arrows leave marks; sometimes for life.

One reason children and young adults with special health care needs might be at higher risk for bullying is lack of peer support, which serve as mechanisms of protection and prevention. Perhaps a buddy system could be put in place to pair children with special needs with an age-appropriate peer who could act as a buffer as well as become a friend. Very often, when asked, children with no challenges to fully functioning in the classroom are more than amenable to helping. It tends to be their parents who balk. Parents have the misguided notion that their child’s quality of education is compromised because they’ve become a ‘babysitter’ to a classmate with challenges. That’s a very narrow view that squashes potential for interpersonal growth during critical learning stages. Parents need to just step aside.

I’d like to see adminstration in Brett’s school develop a committee comprised of teachers, students and parents/community members to maintain open dialogue about the issue of bullying and what needs to be done to seriously address the concerns of the victimized.

To Mr. Corbett, I say — stand up and be proud of who you are. Cerebral palsy must never define you. It might limit some of your choices but it doesn’t determine what you can do with lots of hard work and the knowledge that you are a person of value and deserve to be respected.

Carla MacInnis Rockwell is a freelance writer and disability rights advocate living outside Fredericton, NB with her aging Australian silky terrier and a rambunctious Maltese. She can be reached via email at carmacrockwell@xplornet.ca 

Sometimes too much help is neither helpful or healthy

Helping yourself help yourself, I’m sure you’ll agree, is an interesting concept. It’s one that we must put into practice if we are to maintain an even keel in the course of all our daily doins’. 

One of the common frustrations with so many of us is that we don’t feel appreciated for what we do for others, whether on a sporadic or a daily basis. Caregivers of spouses/partners are often challenged with feelings of hopelessness because they aren’t getting enough input — words matter! If someone is looking after some or all of the needs of you or a loved one, let them know you appreciate them and their care and concern. Though you may not be able to reciprocate in kind, a verbal acknowledgement of your appreciation goes a long way. As you are able, a tangible acknowledgement of your positive regard is always welcome. To do or say nothing is not only hurtful, it’s insulting.

As plans for holiday festivities get underway for many families across the province and across the country, it’s important for us to be mindful of the challenges faced by those who don’t have the same ready access as we do to meet the needs of getting things done, whether it’s shopping for festive foods or stocking up on extra winter supplies to accommodate those major snow days. With that we must also ensure that we don’t over-extend ourselves and frustrate our own holiday enjoyment worrying about someone else. We don’t want to run the risk of creating a dependence to the exclusion of those we help at least putting forth an effort to help themselves. 

Feeling ‘put upon’ is exhausting, especially if we find ourselves looking after the needs of 4,5, even 6 people on a regular/weekly basis. Who will look after us? A way to break into the quicksand feeling is to invite friends in your own circle to become ‘friendly helpers’, offering assistance to neighbours who might need a bit extra, whether daily or weekly. Your contributions also improves health and wellness of the recipient and that reduces the burden on the health care system. It’s a win-win.

If you can help without compromising your own physical or mental health, your self-respect, or your financial wellbeing, you will feel less stressed. When a situation starts sapping your own resources, it’s time to reassess your continued involvement. You have to, as the needs of some people may be beyond your ability to cope on a sustained basis. That, my friends, is nothing to feel guilty about. In reality, their situation is not your problem and the fact that you were willing to make yourself available is very telling about your character. We have to accept that we can’t save everyone, especially from themselves.

As you are able, direct your friend or the subject of your helping to other possible available resources within your community. Care must be taken not to overstep, so if you are able to furnish contact information (name, telephone number) of helping agency representatives, then you’ve done your part as a caring friend. It’s up to the recipient of your support to take the next step and make some calls to get connected to more long term, sometimes lifelong systems of support.

When someone you’ve assisted, whether for weeks, months or even a few years doesn’t seem keen on improving their situation with regard to helping themselves, or if there’s no recpiprocity of some kind, then you may have to make the decision, however painful, to significantly limit or terminate the relationship, so that resentment doesn’t build to the point of irrevocably blowing up the friendship. The provider of care and concern may feel entrapped and that’s not a good place to be.

For myself, I’d be in a fine mess were it not for the friendship I have with my dinner and a movie pal, who has made herself available, as required,  to take me to Fredericton to pick up a grocery order at Victory, do a mall crawl, a shopping at a supermarket, and other errands, including taking dogs to the groomer, Thank goodness I don’t abuse her on a weekly basis; she’d have disowned me years ago. On our city outings, I provide lunch. Once home, I try to send her off with a care package — portions of dinner meals I’ve stashed in the freezer, slices of cake, a loaf of bread, a jar of soup.

Long ago, I told her to never say yes when she really needed/wanted to say no. Like me, she’s home alone, too, so my limited ability to reciprocate appeals to her — I like to bake and cook; she doesn’t! Food is the great equalizer.

Carla MacInnis Rockwell is a freelance writer and disability rights advocate living outside Fredericton, NB with her aging Australian silky terrier and a rambunctious Maltese. She can be reached via email at carmacrockwell@xplornet.ca