Or that I’m a bad person not fit to be a caregiver.
When I felt angry and resentful for the first time it was devastating. Where was it coming from? Why was it coursing through me when the crisis had passed and things were getting better?
“What’s wrong with me?” I cried and I prayed.
The guilt that accompanied those feelings threatened to overwhelm me. I didn’t know if I could go on. If I should go on. I was ashamed of myself for being so weak.
What I didn’t understand was that my feelings were normal. The anger was a passing storm sweeping away debris that had been piling up inside me. It was a way to release the stress and worry that comes with being a caregiver.
I loved Rodger very much, even when it wasn’t easy to do so, and he felt the same way about me. What mattered in the end was not the passing storms but the love that inspired the commitment I made to care for him and the trust he had that I would be there when he needed me.
I smile every time I look at the picture that inspired this post. How fitting it is for caregivers and everyone else. It applies just as well to parents and children, husbands and wives, friends, brothers and sisters, everyone we care about enough to invest our emotions in. I hope everyone I love will always know, “Just because I’m mad, doesn’t mean I stop caring.”