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Grief WritingWorkshop

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This is an interview with  Asian American Curriculum. Hope there is something here for you. Thank you ….

file:///C:/Users/Frances/Desktop/Asian%20American%20newsletter%202020.htm

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It seems appropriate that my first poem that came to be written is for caregivers who, without recognition, are saving our future generations with their humanity.

 

Imperfections

 

We dance the imperfect dance.

We trip over our toes,

Waltzing to the Samba.

 

Four step trot or Cha Cha Cha

It’s still the 1 2 3 step

To whatever plays the music.

 

Perfect in our imperfections.

We miss doctor’s appointments,

Wash yesterday’s dishes today.

 

We leave towels in the washer

Stiff and dry, unlike ads from Downy,

In the morning after.

 

We are so perfect in our imperfections,

There is green fluffy mold atop yogurt,

Wilted lettuce, dehydrated onions –

 

That no longer bring  tears.

Spam and  Campbell soup cans

Expired dates like former Exes.

 

We take our screams

To the tangerine trees

Who spread their branches knowingly

 

Offering us fruits beyond expectations.

We are caregivers,

Perfect in our imperfections.

 

FHK January 4, 2020

 

 

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Hi events

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ON THE ROAD AGAIN TO HAWAII . . .

I will be back in Hawaii next month to talk on caregiving and for the release of my new book from Watermark Publishing, “Echoes of Kapoho.”

Please check this column, my blog or Facebook page for updated schedules. For now, here is my schedule:

  • Thursday, Nov. 7, 10-11:45 a.m.: I will be at the Kau Rural Health Community Association, Inc., in Pahala at an event for caregivers. It is sponsored by the Alzheimer’s Association, Kau Rural Health Community Association, Inc. and Watermark Publishing. Lunch will be served. The Kau Rural Health Community Association, Inc. is located at 96 Puahala St. Registration by Friday, Nov. 1, is required. Call Auntie Jessie or Auntie Theresa at (808) 928-0101 to register, or email Patrick Toal of the Alzheimer’s Association at patoal@alz.org.
  • Saturday, Nov. 9, 11:30 a.m.: I will be introducing my new book, “Echoes of Kapoho,” at Basically Books (1672 Kamehameha Ave.)

At 10 a.m. on that same day, I will be at the Hawaii Island Adult Care conference, speaking on caregiving from 10 – 11 a.m. Call Marcie Saquing at (808) 961-3747, ext. 107, for reservations.

I will also be traveling to Maui on this trip, giving lectures/workshops on the following dates:

  • Wednesday, Nov. 20, 5-7 p.m. A lecture for the Alzheimer’s Association at: Maui Adult Day Care: 665 Kahalui Rd, Kahalui, Maui.

Call Christine Spencer for reservations at 808-591-2771: ext. 8235 or

Kathleen Couch at: 808-871-5804.

. Friday, Nov. 22: Keynote address at the 18th Maui Family Caregiver Conference sponsored by the Maui County Office on Aging at the Grand Wailea Resort. Call Vicki Belloumini at: (808) 270-7233 for details and reservations.

And, finally, O‘ahu book signing dates for “Echoes of Kapoho” are still being secured. Please check my Blog and Facebook page for the dates.

 

 

 

 

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Suddenly Alzheimer’s Disease is given prominent space on television and in our news media because a famous person’s mother has Alzheimers’. There are thousands of us who have and are living this life without fame, without the finances, without the help that is given to caregivers.  We live without recognition but  live with compassion, dignity and love, caring for our loved ones. They deserve more recognition than those in the public eye. They deserve all the assistance needed in caring for someone every hour of the day. There are families who depend on Meals on Wheels, need scholarship programs to participate in adult care, have no health insurance, can’t afford professional caregivers, but their humanity of knowing what it means to care for someone with Alzheimer’s and other forms of dementia and illness is constant behind the scenes, behind cameras.  We are insulting the caregivers who are not Dr Oz or any of the public figures. I have worked with caregivers for over 20 years since my mother’s Alzheimer’s diagnosis and I hope we do not forget families who live outside the public eye. Why aren’t they the breaking news of the day? I sympathize with Dr. Oz’s mother but I applaud those who are the true heroes of our Alzheimer’s world.

Dr Oz, you are invited to join us at our monthly poetry writing support group for Caregivers at the Alzheimer’s Office in Sacramento.

Frances Kakugawa

Frances conducts workshops and lectures on helping caregivers give care with compassion, dignity and love. Her books on caregiving are:

Mosaic Moon: Caregiving Through Poetry

I Am Somebody: Bringing Dignity and Compassion to Alzheimer’s Caregiving

Breaking the Silence: A Caregiver’s Voice

Wordsworth Dances the Waltz: an illustrated book for children on memory loss

Her Dear Frances advice column for caregivers appears monthly in the Hawaii Herald

 

 

 

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Wordsworth is now in Germany with Teresa and her grandson.

Teresa was a first grader in my Jackson ,Michigan class years ago.

Some quotes from Teresa…on how Wordsworth is making a difference.

WW DAnces Teresa

I am in Germany visiting my 4.5 year old grandson Henry. We had a long car trip today, so we read Wordsworth Dances the Waltz, which I had brought along to share.

I got a little choked up reading parts of it, thinking of my own mom sitting in the nursing home room by herself most days. The story is beautifully written and illustrated.  It is the first Wordsworth book we have read.  I read it aloud in the car, so everyone heard the story, although only Henry and I saw the pictures.

Henry learned what a poet was, but I remember Wordsworth the Poet explains what a poet is much better than Me!  Henry was very curious about the children doing Karate.  He also counted 1-2-3 each time it came up in the story.  Of course, being a dancer, I counted 1-2-3 to the proper waltz beat.  I told him I would teach him how to dance the Waltz when we get back to Berlin!

While riding in the car, we then played the Wordsworth’s Rubber Band game with the clouds.  Henry has a vivid imagination!

This past week we spent a lot of time touring Bavaria and castles and going on hikes in the woods.  Henry protected us from dragons and wild animals with his wooden sword (or a stick if we left the sword in the car).  It was nice to see him so interested in everything around him, whether it be informational signs with animal footprints or tree leaves, new playground structures, patterns on the pavement stones, or learning to read a map.

Henry told me he wanted to read the other Wordsworth books too.  I have a good idea now for his Christmas gift!

4 WordsworthBooks

Your gift of writing has had an enormous impact all over the world, to all ages, and all types of people.  You are a gift to all of us, as you encourage us to look inside of ourselves and find love, grace, imagination and creativity.  Thank you.  ❤️ Teresa

I taught her well, didn’t I? This came in later from Teresa:

I told Henry that you taught me to read. And then later you taught me to be a poet too, by trying to write like Frances did in her poems. And then, even later, you taught me to understand what it’s like to be a caregiver, to grieve, to love so much your heart breaks, and to simply let life go at it’s own pace. You’ve never stopped teaching me! ❤️ Teresa


					

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At the post office, an elderly man with a cane and I approached the door at the same time and I opened the door for him. He thanked me, put his back against the door and let me in first. I thanked him. Yes, ladies first.

Leaving the post office, a young man tried to enter as I was leaving. He  opened the door and entered, closing the door into my face.

Walking into the Alzheimer’s Office, I saw a caregiver and an elderly man with a cane coming out of the office. I opened the door and the caregiver walked out. The elderly man exchanged looks with me and I got his message. He held the door open for me, a bit unsteady on his feet,  and I walked in, thanking him. Yes, ladies first. I saw his caregiver waiting by her car.

After a business lunch in Hawaii, my host walked me to the car and opened the door for me. I told him,  “I can’t remember the last time someone opened a car door for me.”  When I was in high school, I asked one of the boys to open the door and he said, “What? You cripple?” But we forgive boys in high schools, don’t we?

We speak in fear of what the electronic world is doing to humanity and how invisible we are becoming.  Are these men I mention the last disappearing act?

 

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(My  advice column for caregivers called Dear Frances that appears monthly in the Hawaii Herald was written by Wordsworth, my little mouse poet this month.)

 

June 2019 Dear Frances,

Dear Readers,

Frances is away from her desk, giving lectures and book talks in Hawaii so I volunteered to do the column. I’m Wordsworth the mouse poet from four of her children’s books. At  first she was skeptical until I reminded her that  in all of my  books, I resolve human problems through poetry just like her. So please stay and read my column.

I’m still dancing the waltz after Patrick Toal, Director of the Alzheimer’s Association in Hawaii made me a mascot. My job is to visit schools and libraries to teach our younger generation about memory loss and how to live with our elders with compassion, dignity and respect.

We already visited libraries in Kohala and Hilo and will be flying to Maui and Molokai soon. If you want us to visit you, please call your Alzheimer’s Office or get in touch with Frances.  I would like to visit schools.

Frances and I did some work with students from Kindergarten to Middle School in Honolulu and will share some of their poems.

But first, let me brag a bit. I was in the Merrie Monarch parade in Hilo. I think I saw some of you waving to me. At first I felt a bit insulted when children began to shout Chucky Cheese at me. Luckily, Patrick Toal,  showed them my name and for the rest of the parade, I heard “Wordsworth! Wordsworth!”  What a relief.  Have you had someone call you by the wrong name?  Not good.  Hey Frances, have you ever been in a parade?

Here, I’m dancing with waltz as I did with Grandma in my book.

 

WW dancing 2

 

The children we visited are wonderful. They draw pictures, write poems,  play games and talk story about their grand or great – grand parents. They are preserving so many good memories. Some of the children are confused about the changes that happen after their grand or great-grandparents get dementia. That’s where I come in and show them what is really happening. Once they understand what dementia does to our brains, they are less confused and fearful. But you know all about this and why it’s important that we don’t isolate children from our loved  ones no matter what stages of dementia are at hand.  If they are given  truthful information, they are able to handle ailments and changes.  And you’ll be surprised how aware they are of our elders.

I like the story of a young mother who said her two pre-school children are like me and are teaching her how to be a better caregiver. After they heard my Wordsworth Dances the Waltz, they told their mother, “Why do you talk so mean to grandma?” Wow. Their mother said she respected her children and they have become her teachers. She told them, “You are like Wordsworth, keep reminding me when I talk mean.”

Another mother shared how her two young grandsons taught her how to hang loose and laugh instead of getting so stressed out. When their grandpa wore his pants inside out, their grandma began to get stressed and upset because it meant more work for her. Before she could change her husband’s pants, she heard her grandsons and husband laughing. Her grandsons had told Grandpa, “Hey Grandpa, you made new fashion.” And they all laughed and let Grandpa wear his new inside out pants.

Sometimes, our young children know exactly what to say and do so we need to leave them alone and let them become our teachers.

Here are some poems written by  6th  and 3rd graders when Frances was their teacher. I left their names out to protect their privacy. Please note how aging, dying and death claim their thoughts a lot and how poetry helps to express them. Too often we try to be silent in these areas, thinking we need to protect our children but listen to them here. Except for the last poem, they were written by sixth graders.

Grandma

 

Grandma is a beautiful name.

I know she didn’t go to hell.

I know she went to heaven.

My grandma, a humming bird on a branch.

 

***

 

My Grandfather

 

I don’t know why God wants to take him someday.

He’s not old, he’s not young.

But he’s been good to me.

Please God, don’t let him die.

 

I don’t know why

We are born

If  we are going to die.

 

 

***

 

Aging

 

An old woman sits by the fire.

Quietly she drapes her old tattered shawl

Across her shoulders.

A drop of rain lands on her cheek,

Like a tear.

 

An old tired work horse

Limps to the barn.

Then a young excited horse

Trots to the plow.

Soon he, too, will limp.

***

 

My Grandmother

 

While I think of my grandmother

Lying dead in a coffin

Under the ground,

I feel a tear drop on my arm.

Why did she have to die?

I love her.

I didn’t even get to say

Good-bye.

 

 

***

 

My Grandmother

 

My grandmother is like

A stale piece of bread,

I feel sorry for her

Now that she’s almost dead.

 

As she limps down the dark road,

She looks wrinkled and so old.

I wish my grandma was young again,

Like a freshly baked loaf of bread.

 

 

***

( When Geof wrote this, he shocked himself and put his head down on his desk and kept saying, “Miss Kakugawa, Miss Kakugawa, this is so bad. Oh, this is so bad. I said my grandma’s like a loaf of stale bread. I can’t believe I said this.” After Frances  read the poem, and  told him, “This is beautiful. This is what poets do, using metaphors as you did  with the loaf of bread,.” he was pleased to know he had written a good poem and allowed it to be published.)
****

Photographs

 

bring back memories

more and more each time.

if they are of grandpa

I look at them and cry.

I see his light blue coffin

going

down

into

the

ground.

 

 

***

 

Old Bird

 

The old bird sits there

Ready and willing to die,

Weeping with its last song.

 

***

This last poem was written by a third grader:

Memory

 

Oh, sadness comes to me.

I feel like a puzzle being apart

Into a hundred pieces.

Sadness of a memory

That I don’t have.

I don’t have the memory

Of my grandfather.

He was gone

Before my mother was born.

I wonder…

 

If he were here,

Would he take me out

To From the Heart

And buy me erasers?

Would we talk together

And have a good time?

I wonder what name

I would call him.

 

 

3rd grade

 

***

 

This was enjoyable, doing the column for Frances.  You can send me comments and questions through Frances or directly to me.

 

I have my own email address: wordsworth@bookshawaii.net

You can also check me out at my own FaceBook. https://www.facebook.com/WordsworthThePoet/

Maybe if you fill my mailbox with letters and questions, this column will be called Dear Wordsworth. Oh, oh, hope Frances doesn’t read this.

By the way, do you know how she sent me from Sacramento to Hawaii? In a Fed EX box!  My head was all squished. I hope after all this work I’m doing for her, my trips to Maui and Molokai will be on first class. Maybe you can suggest this to her?

Aloha, readers.

Wordsworth the Poet

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I'm honored, Scott@Graying With Grace for the following honor.
I can't figure out why the print is appearing so tiny.


Just wanted to give you a heads up that  https://franceskakugawa.wordpress.com 
has been featured in my Top Caregiving Blogs Awards post.

Here's the URL: https://www.grayingwithgrace.com/caregiving-blogs/

Congrats and keep up the awesome work you do for the caregivers of 
seniors, the elderly, and disabled!

Have a good one!

Scott @ Graying With Grace

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