Category: Sensory Satisfaction
Poem as Lovely as a Tree
Trees have long been especially meaningful to me. Blame rote memory of Joyce Kilmer in third grade or maybe it was the Christmas tree we planted as a teen–trees speak to me. This week the neighbors two doors down cut down a favorite pine tree–as was their right . . . but we have been sad about this loss. It had to be over 100 ft tall, planted 70+ years ago by the home’s first family. Imagine how many childhood adventures that tree witnessed through the years. Forts, swings, picnics. Imagine how many critters have housed or sheltered in her…
Listening Tree
You may have noticed that I am very fond of trees. From childhood on, they have offered me refuge from fears and solace for racing thoughts and worries. Well this Tuesday I lost one of my favorite trees. We live in a small park sharing trees lot-to-lot. But there was one tree that I have been particularly attached to–my listening tree. This beautiful oak resided to the left of Lee’s pool and had done so for many years. Much like the Gulfport tree highlighted above. She would sprinkle the pool liberally with leaves, it is true. But that just made…
Anticipation & Presence
Having just returned from a whirlwind trip to Tampa, we are now preparing for a week in MD followed by two weeks in Spain. Each trip is full of family and memory making presence. Looking back I remember the same anticipation as a young family with selective purchasing, wrapping, preparing. Today we purchase plane tickets, we pack, we prepare in different ways. But the common ground is anticipation. Presents for the family are now translated into presence with the family. This season is a wonderful gathering point, regardless of what holiday you are celebrating. It is a time of decreased…
Deal or Deal Breaker?
Dandelions, daffodils and dreary days. Each of these images recalls a sensory experience recorded in my primal memory. Each impacted my life in a particular way from early childhood. As a child growing up in the suburbs of Baltimore, dandelions were summer flowers that played at my feet as I swung high in the sky on my rope and board swing. I picked them for my mother, and made them into chains. They remind me of good simple warm times . . . even when my mind is not really at work. It’s a primal sensory memory. Likewise daffodils are…
Creosote and Calico?
Sensory pleasures are individual and based in our history and heritage. It is sensory pleasures that enrich our offices, homes, sick rooms. As we encounter illness, it is often the sensory pleasures that define “comfort”. In the continuing exploration of the power of the senses, C is for comfort. For me personally, sensory comforts come in the taste and smell of corned beef and cabbage; the smells of coffee and creosote; the beauty of cruising and calico. Quite an eclectic list, right? Taking it one comfort at a time: Corned beef and cabbage plays a key role in my adult…
B is for . . .
“You are not going to do all 26 letters of the alphabet are you?” my husband asks as I write this post. I was annoyed, here is Mr. Metric nay saying a rational outline to explore sensory preferences. I considered dropping him from my email list . . . but of course, I am going to continue to use the alphabet as my foundation for exploring the value of knowing one another’s sensory preferences. “Why,” you and he might ask? In the words of Sherlock Holmes, “It’s elementary, my dear Watson”. When things are going poorly, whether it be in…
The ABC’s of Sensory Preferences
Each of us has our own unique fingerprint as well as our own unique sensory preferences. With our fingerprint, we can be universally identified often for less than positive reasons. With our unique sensory preferences we can be universally pleased with an experience or universally displeased. The range of response is based on our ability to communicate due to illness, dementia. Regardless of health, our sensory preferences remain. If it is an unpleasant sensory stimulant, we will “communicate” our distaste by some type of negative behavior. Those closest to us are more likely to know what sensory stimulant triggers…
My Father’s Hands
Yesterday after work I sat absentmindedly at a stoplight. My mind was suddenly distracted by the present. But not before I found myself thinking about my father “just out of the blue”. One sturdy hand outside the truck window caught my eye. I consciously realized my father thoughts were based on this stranger’s hand. It was like my father’s. It moved like my father’s in a steady random movement of the fingertips. Like his hands moved prior to his illness. I looked at the features, a truck, a roofing company logo, longer but just as sturdy fingers. Yes, it was…
Home
I want to go home. Who can help me get home? I need to get home . . . These are common refrains heard from folks with dementia. As family we take the request at face value, and yet how many of us have heard this refrain from within the loved one’s home? It’s a sobering moment when you accommodate them and yet the refrain remains. You have the realization that “home” stands for something else, perhaps something unattainable. After years of hearing this refrain and attempting to accommodate as a recreation leader or as a family member, I’ve come…
Home-Like Environment
Note the present joy to be used to diminish future sadness.