I Wish I Knew Then What I Know Now

When I became a caregiver for my father-in-law with dementia I didn’t know how hard it would be, how long it go on, or how much it would change me. I learned a great deal in those seven years. The most important of which is, I am not an expert in this. There are no experts. I call what I did, creative problem solving on the run. Sometimes what I came up with worked, like the day I sang off key to get him to put his seatbelt on. Sometimes they didn’t, like the many times I tried to reason with him before I learned that his reality was the one I had to deal with and I had go there with him.

What do you wish you knew before you became a caregiver?

What is the most important thing you have learned so far?

I’d love to hear from you. Your answers may help someone.

Touching Words From A Reader

The following is an excerpt from a letter that appeared in my email yesterday. 

Your book is beautifully and courageously written. Your honesty about your own limitations (real or perceived) is human and refreshing and relatable. Your voice of advocacy for patients and families in what sometimes feels like a battle with healthcare professionals is a strong rallying cry and a reminder that in the struggle of priorities, loved ones are ultimately the only advocates whose motives are completely unfettered. You are able to weave in humor where appropriate, and to me that is a reminder that the survivors still have to survive and find a way to cope with change, loss and pain via a means other than tears (especially in retrospect). I laughed and cried shamelessly for the duration, rereading some paragraphs in the final chapters to compensate for my teary, blurry vision. Thank you for this book. I will post the most positive review on Smashwords that I am able. I also have already recommended it to all of my family who suffered the loss of my father by my side.

J.D.

To hear from a caregiver that my words touched him in such a positive way is a gift beyond measure. I hoped it might happen during the days and weeks I relived our story. I am grateful to learn it came true for J.D. Caregivers you are not alone in your actions or your feelings as you do so much for others. Blessed be.

A Fearsome Intimacy

Caregiving Fearsome Intimacy

When we hold our infants in our arms we are filled with awe and hope for the future. We envision a life of promises fulfilled. We never picture them feeding us, holding our hand to keep us from falling, or changing our underthings. I couldn’t type the word diapers. The thought of losing my dignity to such a degree is truly fearsome. In my mind I hear the words, “It’s enough to scare the pants off me.” The irony makes me shudder and chuckle at the same time.

The caregiver and the cared for locked in a fearsome intimacy. I don’t know where the quote above came from. If I did I would give credit here. What I do know is those five simple words speak a devastating truth.

 

40 Days and 40 Nights

lent

Lent is a time when many of us give up something we enjoy or commit to serving others for the 40 days and 40 nights leading up to Easter. Every time I reflected on what to do this Lenten season images of the many caregivers I meet and hear from kept coming to mind.

I saw you skipping meals and going without sleep while doing all you can to keep the one in your care fed and safe from harm.  I watched as you hoped and prayed for a few good moments in a chaotic day so you could take a shower or go to the bathroom.

For seven years as a caregiver for my father-in-law, Rodger, I did what you do. Lived what you are living not knowing how long it would last and how much it would change me. It is because I know how hard this is, how much you give up, and how dedicated to service you are that I commit to writing a post to support caregivers every day for the next 40 days.

Know that every day, not only at this time of the year, I pray for you and give thanks that there are so many of you willing to do so much for others. Blessed be.