About
All About Holly….
I have been a Sport Physical therapist for over 31 years and until a few years ago my focus was traveling and working with our Canadian National athletes around the globe. In 1995 I opened a private sports clinic and worked with professional and amateur athletes from dozens of sports–rugby, football, hockey, water skiing, gymnastics to name a few. I’m inspired by an athlete’s work ethic and commitment to do the best they can every time—in practice or an actual game.
By nature I’m an achiever as well and one of my major life goals is to work with our elite athletes at the Olympic games. In June 2006, I was on track to achieving this goal when I was asked to be an assistant therapist for the Canadian Freestyle Ski team for the 2010 Olympics.
But within a year, my Olympic dream was in jeopardy. My husband Dave was diagnosed with Frontotemporal Dementia; he had just turned 57.
At first I didn’t believe the doctors. Dementia is an older person’s disease—not for someone in the 50s. When reality settled in, I could feel pain of losing my husband and our dreams for the future. I kept running away from those painful and fearful thoughts by filling every second with busyness. But 2 years later I was exhausted. I didn’t have the energy to run away from my grief any longer. I felt like Humpty Dumpty who had a great fall–I honestly didn’t know how I was going to keep surviving day to day.
Dave was managing well from the care I was giving him, but I was slipping. I was resentful and overwhelmed with the challenges that were mounting. On top of this, our life savings had collapsed and I was facing starting over in my mid-50s. I didn’t know what to do or who to turn to. Where is help for baby boomer ‘primary’ caregivers who have the added burden of working full-time and children at home? Is there someone walking in my shoes who has found a way to enjoy life again?
Less than a month after hitting rock bottom, I had a turning point. I was standing in the kitchen making dinner and hating it. (I’m not a fan of cooking) I wanted to slam the knife into the cutting board and cry–but I couldn’t; Dave was in the next room working on his puzzle. I leaned over the counter letting the tears flow and in an instant, I had a flash: I’m free. I have choices: a) I can walk out of this house and let someone else take over b) I can stay stuck in my depressed “poor me” state or c) I can take action and move forward.
For the first time since Dave’s diagnosis, I completely faced my reality: this is my life–my husband has dementia so what can I do to feel alive again. I’m sick of wishing my life away. I also realized that I couldn’t control external circumstances like Dave’s dementia.
I was no longer in the driver seat of my life and I needed to find a way back. I didn’t know how I was going to find joy and happiness but I had faith that it was possible. As Martin Luther King’s said: “faith is taking the first step even when you don’t see the whole staircase”.
I started taking baby steps like writing in a gratitude journal every night (5 things I am grateful for that day); exercising for 30 minutes every day; and improving my nutrition to minimize my sugar and mood crashes.
For the first time in several years, I’m putting myself first. Just like the airplane emergency situation–if I don’t take care of myself (put on my oxygen mask first) then I won’t be able to help Dave and our children.
Four months after my (emotional, physical & mental) crash, I made a tough decision to withdraw my Olympic application; I wasn’t willing to commit to 5 weeks away from my family. It is amazing how quickly priorities can change. It wasn’t easy letting go of a dream that I had spent 28 years working hard to achieve but it’s clear–Dave and my family are more important than my career.
I never imagined that shutting the door to my Olympic dream would open a door to a richer life than before Dave’s diagnosis. I am learning to accept what is—good or bad; I have more patience and don’t sweat the small stuff as much; I’m more flexible and can adapt to changes easier; I don’t need a sunny day or lots of money in my bank account to be happy. Working through the low and challenges times has pushed me to find happiness and peace inside of me. This is an inside job and it’s the only thing I can control.
Every day I’m discovering more tools and techniques for living my life with more joy, energy and happiness. It takes practice, commitment, and lots of trial and error to find out what works and what doesn’t. It feels great to be stepping off the emotional roller coaster and to be creating more win-win situations for Dave and me. I finally found a person walking in my shoes; someone who is enjoying small pleasures in life; and someone who doesn’t lie awake at night worrying about the future because she is focusing on what she can do today. (The present is where the solutions are) And…I’m happy to say that someone is me.
Last year I officially began my Life Alchemy Coaching. For more information please see my coaching page.
Remember you can have a good quality of life—regardless of your circumstances. It’s your choice. If you are ready to take a baby step towards ‘loving life’ again, sign up for a Complimentary Coaching session in the upper right hand box. Our journey on this planet is too short to be wasting it.
If you have any questions or comments I would love to hear from you. My email address is:holly@hollyeburne.com).
| I found Holly’s website and e-mailed her because we have the common bond of having young husbands with health problems.My 56-year-old husband was diagnosed with Mild Cognitive Impairment last December. Although we have been to support groups through the Alzheimer’s Association, I have yet to find people close to our ages, raising children, and dealing with a similar situation. Through her e-mails and phone call, Holly provided a variety of practical, easy to implement information. For example, Holly told me that the brain is 80% water, and even 5% dehydration can make an impact on memory. I share that information with my husband, and he immediately got and drank a glass of water. Instead of just telling me to take care of myself, Holly suggested going to You Tube to view funny and inspirational videos. I had never thought of that. My husband is also suffering from moderate depression, and Holly is the told me not to let myself get dragged down by that. Holly’s openness in talking about her husband’s health and how she handles the challenges made me feel less alone in dealing with this scary situation. We even laughed about the common thought of, “Darn! It isn’t a brain tumor!” I appreciate everything Holly has done to help me during this challenging period.
— Gincy Heins, Cypress, California |
