Reflections of a Daughter of the Silent Generation and Mother of Generation Y
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
From my diary two years before, as I stepped into the shoes of health care agent:
Please help me to care for Mom,
to stay in the moment with her while getting her the health care she needs,
to keep her safe while supporting her independence,
to collaborate with the boys and all the rest,
to meet her needs as well as those of the others in my life, and
to stay right here, right now, while figuring out what’s next.
Thank you for helping us to help her.
Amen
—excerpt from Living Is for Living: A Caregiver’s Story
Vacation (noun)(vā-kā′shən, və-) “A period of time devoted to pleasure, rest, or relaxation”(thefreedictionary.com) … the sun on the horizon, the wind in the palms, the waves on the beach, my family in their beds asleep, and Mom at home safe and sound …
“… a period spent away from home or business in travel or recreation …”(merriam-webster.com)… exploring new places, reading a book just for fun, closing my eyes – sun on my hat, sand under my feet, enjoying new foods prepared by another, talking and laughing, together, apart …
“… the time during which a person temporarily ceases regular duties of any kind and performs other activities … typically used for rest, travel, or recreation, but may be used for any purpose …” (webster-dictionary.org)… I step away, I unravel, I rejuvenate, I rediscover, and I look forward to returning home to Mom.
—from Living Is for Living: A Caregiver’s Story
AA’s Step Three: “Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of our Higher Power.” Like the kids when they were young, Mom trusted me so completely it was sobering; it helped to know I wasn’t alone. (See, Al-Anon’s Twelve Steps & Twelve Traditions)
—excerpt from Living Is for Living: A Caregiver’s Story
What’s the Bottom Line? My Dad’s catchphrase, the one he came back to, used to bug me. I fought its simplicity, was irritated by his repetitiveness, preferred the complications.
The Bottom line:
My Dad died almost ten years ago.
He was uncomfortable with difficult emotions.
He worked right up to the end.
He drank too much.
He was imperfect.
The Bottom Line:
My Dad was funny.
He was insightful.
He was devoted to my Mom, his clients, and his family.
He is still with me.
He was and is my Dad.
(Written in 2012)
The Bottom Line:
I love you Dad.
I miss you Dad.
I carry you with me every day.
I know you trust me to take care of Mom.
I will do my best to protect her happiness, health and independence without sacrificing my own.
(Added in 2017)
—excerpt from Living Is for Living: A Caregiver’s Story
