The Joy of Caring

Reflections of a Daughter of the Silent Generation and Mother of Generation Y

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Newest Release…

Sharing this book reminds me of opening Sunshine’s crate.

Rather than dashing to the sea, Sunshine peered out, cautiously. When her crate was gently disassembled and she was eased onto the sand, she made her way slowly down the beach, guided by her Marine Mammals of Maine (MMoME) caregivers who shielded her view of the spectators gathered to cheer for her and poolmate Dexxy. When Sunshine made it to the bay, she paused in the shallows while she acclimated to the chilly water, lapping waves, glistening sun. Then she submerged, and off she went. 

I can relate to Sunshine’s apparent reluctance, as I release this book I wrote and illustrated about her recovery, from collection to rehabilitation to release. I also received great care along the way and down the homestretch – from my childhood friends Nancy (who illustrated the front cover), Biz (who took photos of the release) and Margie (who cheered my every step), to my editor, Genie Dailey (Fine Points Editorial Services), and my creative coach, Lindy Gifford (www.manifestidentity.com), to the folks at MMoME (who gave the book their thumbs up).

Wanting to get the story and its details right, I too have taken my sweet time before taking the plunge. And just like the time came for Sunshine to swim free, the time has come to set her story free. So here it is, available online and by request at your local book shop. I hope you enjoy!

Living Is for Living: A Caregiver’s Story is launched!

What I am letting go in publishing this book isn’t Mom; it isn’t my caregiving journey; it isn’t even all the reflection I’ve done along the way. What I am letting go is fear, the what ifs, the wish for one more do-over, choosing, instead, to let love fill our sails:

If you or someone you know is interested in reading Living Is for Living: A Caregiver’s Story, it is available to order at your local book store (just ask) and also online at Amazon.com, Barnes & Noble, Sherman’s Maine Coast Book Shops, IndieBound, and Bookshop (just click).

Thank you for your interest and I wish you and your loved ones many blessings this holiday season.

Letting Go, for real

As Lindy and I volley last looks at Living Is for Living: a Caregiver’s Story, I wrestle the same old same old: what if my words upset someone, what if there’s a glaring mistake, what if I’m oversharing, what if Mom wouldn’t like what I wrote?

“In the full realization of our repetitiveness, the best thing is to stop saying anything for a while, and in that saying nothing, something begins to break down and opens us up.”—David Whyte, September 2022 Series: Crossing the Unknown Sea, Life and Work as a Pilgrimage of Identity, Session 2

Heeding Whyte’s words, I quiet my anxious mind and observe:

  • a dear friend, in reference to caring for her father, texts: “I remember you asking me, ‘how do I know when [Mom] is ready to let go’, and I told you ‘you will know because it will just happen naturally'”;
  • another dear friend, in the midst of caring for her brother, asks about the book and when I share my concerns, offers the warmest of hugs;
  • searching Mom’s things for the key to her safety deposit box, I discover Henry Van Dyke’s I Am Standing Upon the Seashore, describing a sailboat reaching the horizon: “Gone from my sight. That is all“; and
  • I meet my brother Dave for breakfast and, still keyless, we make up fun stories about what we might find inside Mom’s box before he asks me about the book and advises me to let it go.

I do realize, all this writing has been a way I’ve continued to care for Mom, even after her death. This book has given me space to visit and revisit our lifetime together; it has helped me to grieve, process, and heal. It’s reminded me to laugh.

What if this next stage, publishing, is less about setting myself off for new horizons, and more about sending off the lessons I’ve learned? What if letting go is really more about handing over, and in so doing, setting free? What if I choose love, not fear? What if it’s all going to be okay?

As Van Dyke concludes: “Her diminished size is in me—not in her. And, just at the moment when someone says, “There, she is gone,” there are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices ready to take up the glad shout, “Here she comes!”

Choosing Emphasis… here, there, everywhere

When I blogged about caring for Mom, I meant to keep it real. I wrote about what I was experiencing, editing to make sure it was readable, and then letting it fly. I wrote to reflect, to connect, to relieve, unaware of certain choices, like whether “to quote,” to italicize, to make bold, to use exclamation points!

In the midst of a later read-through of Living Is for Living, the book based on the reflections I blogged, one of the students I tutor was reading an assignment aloud. The plot was complex, and he was working hard to interpret the details. I was struck by how his tone shifted when he got to a sentence in italics; his voice showed that he knew those words were significant, even before he read them.

Which landed me back at my computer the next morning, reviewing Living Is for Living, this time paying attention to the emphasis I’d used. I discovered plenty of all four techniques, which made sense given the intensity of what I was feeling and describing along the way, which led to a realization today:

Sometimes, the words I say are heard differently than how I mean them. I wonder, in the way I speak, in the emphasis I offer, am I cueing the recipient in an effective way? Not that I need to, that I even can, hide how deeply I feel what I feel, still, I can certainly be more aware of how I communicate and its impact on others.

Both in writing and in conversing, I can “slow down,” pay attention, step away, and come back more intentional about how and what I emphasize—even when I’m charged up!

Mom’s birthday, another first

Looking at photos of 17-year-old Mom the summer her dad died, and following her as she marched forward into a life spent pushing the boundaries, I understood that her “living is for living” wasn’t just a way to deal with her elder years, it was the way she’d handled early loss and carried on.

—excerpt from Living Is for Living: A Caregiver’s Story

COVID-19 Staying at Home – finding guidance in parental wisdom during this time of pandemic stress

Tamridge, Mom and Dad, circa 1980

There were moments, when nothing seemed as it was and everything seemed newly tenuous. Dad’s “we shall see” and “bottom line” and Mom’s “living is for living” and “aren’t we lucky” reminded me to be patient, to simplify, to let go of fear, and to count our blessings.

—excerpt from Living Is for Living: A Caregiver’s Story

A Bushel and a Peck, ie. transitioning to hospice care

In Mom’s Alzheimer’s care, we’d guided her through a daily routine to promote her good moments. With the wisdom and support of her hospice team, we modified that approach to better meet her evolving needs. I was grateful that, even though caring for Mom as she approached death wasn’t easy, I got to do it and that, even when I felt alone, I was supported.

—excerpt from Living Is for Living: A Caregiver’s Story

On the Edge, aka re-finding balance in caring for a loved one with Alzheimer’s disease

Stepping away gave me time to feel Alzheimer’s vastness – like standing beside the Grand Canyon, exhausted, I felt overwhelmed, like I could fall right in. The following summer, during valuable caregiving hours, my spouse and I visited local memory and nursing care facilities. Our options better understood, I could get back to taking it a day at a time and feeling grateful for the moments we still had with Mom in our home. 

—excerpt from Living Is for Living: A Caregiver’s Story

#tbt Making Peace with Mom’s DNR

Dear Higher Power, Please help me to take heroic measures to love and care for Mom, to help her continue to live healthy and well – not to prolong the time when she is failing and unwell. Please help me to never give up, and also to let go when the time comes. Please help me to honor Mom while she is alive, and also when she dies. A DNR – natural death – is the right choice – it’s a choice my Mom has made. It’s a choice I agree with. It’s a choice that hurts and relieves. It’s a choice I need to respect. Please help me to find peace with Mom’s DNR. Thy will be done. Amen

—excerpt from Living Is for Living: A Caregiver’s Story

HALT and let in the love

IMG_0825

I learned long ago, in Al-Anon, that when we feel irritable or unreasonable, we need to “HALT” – it may be that we are Hungry, Angry, Lonely and/or Tired. Sometimes HALTing means putting our own feet up, sometimes it means taking a moment to learn from others who are doing just that.

—excerpt from Living Is for Living: A Caregiver’s Story

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