Reflections of a Daughter of the Silent Generation and Mother of Generation Y
In support of a member facing a cancer diagnosis, her team had handed out bracelets with the words No One FIGHTS Alone! Running errands and thinking of this fierce, kind and resilient athlete, I pulled into Dunkin Donuts for an afternoon pick-up. When the guy in front of me bought my cup of coffee, it was the high five I needed, reminding me to reach out to others too.
—excerpt from Living Is for Living: A Caregiver’s Story
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
In a world with atrocity, apathy, anxiety, distraction and just plain busy-ness, I was touched by all the simple kindnesses that helped me as I helped Mom. Thanks to those simple, and often unexpected, kindnesses, the pieces of our life in Maine were starting to fall into place.
—excerpt from Living Is for Living: A Caregiver’s Story
There’s plenty of literature out there about the challenge of being part of the “Sandwich Generation.” I too have sleepless nights worrying about Mom, as well as the kids. At the same time, I gotta admit, it’s pretty cool.
—excerpt from Living Is for Living: A Caregiver’s Story
I was especially grateful for the wisdom and support I received from so many places, including Mom – she may have forgotten some things due to Alzheimer’s, however there was an awful lot else she still reminded me to appreciate.
—excerpt from Living Is for Living: A Caregiver’s Story
I’ve been called many things by those who are supposed to know me best:
“hypersensitive”, “too emotional”, even “nuts.”
Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever get to a place where their words don’t cause me pain.
Probably not…that’s one of the costs of being:
“hypersensitive”, “too emotional”, even “nuts.”
Here are some things I’ve realized, moving back to where I’m from:
The more things change, the more they stay the same.
I don’t need to be loved by everybody, just by some.
I can choose those who accept sensitivity, emotionality and even nuttiness.
I can live with the anger I feel at expectations unmet,
the fear I feel at being judged, and the sadness I feel at being rejected.
I can take care of me, even when it’s difficult –
exercise, hydration, nutrition, sleep, writing, friendship, animals, family, faith –
The healing these bring is within reach.
This is the way to take care of me, not believing what I am told when I am not who others want me to be.
“Hypersensitive”, “too emotional”, even “nuts” – yes!
With these three things, I’ve been blessed.
—from Living Is for Living: A Caregiver’s Story
Starting to feel breathless with all the What Ifs, I remembered this AA slogan. The nurse drew blood and collected urine in record time and, free to go, I asked Mom what she wanted for lunch. “Something meaty,” she replied: First Things First!
—excerpt from Living Is for Living: A Caregiver’s Story
Not that he has to, still, it’s a fact, he brings balance to our family. Thinking of him reminds baby-of-the-family me to step back, take a deep breath, and calm myself – to be less tornado and more glue.
—excerpt from Living Is for Living: A Caregiver’s Story
When we danced as newlyweds to “Stand by Me,” I didn’t know exactly what that would mean, only that we’d have ups and downs and I hoped he’d be at my side through both. The words comforted me now as they had then, and I was ever grateful.
—excerpt from Living Is for Living: A Caregiver’s Story
As my spouse put it when I fretted: “getting your Mom two weeks in Maine is like completing a triple salchow – that’s something to feel good about.”
—excerpt from Living Is for Living: A Caregiver’s Story
