Caregiving

    This is not an interesting subject but it is one many of us become involved with.  Over ten years ago I cared for my dear mother. This was my gift for the wonderful life she created for me. I loved taking time to talk about yesteryears, driving to her hometown and locating the area where her home once stood. We visited aging cousins and searched for "familiar" places that no longer we're familiar.
    Then she had to have dialysis. That required me to drive her a rather long way from home and spend the four hours required to clean her blood.
    I thought I was handling the responsibility well. I had my dad at home and my husband returned from work waiting for supper nights. Before I knew it, I crashed.  Couldn't take what was needed to keep my wonderful mom happy in her last days.  We had to move her to a retirement home where she was cared for by others. Broke my heart. In the meantime Dad died.
   No one can imagine at the beginning of their care taking that the responsibility will be arduous. Of course, you can move the parent immediately to a home, but I wanted to keep Mother close and show love and appreciation as I know she'd do for me.  However, there comes a time and situation that keeping a parent at home is too much.
   In 1999 there were no guide books to give instructions to the care giver. Everyone had to use common sense. For example: when I found Mother walking down the hallway with her shirt on inside-out, I'd ask,"Mom, where are you going?" She'd wave her hand and keep going. I'd follow and find her in the kitchen where she'd put the skillet on the stove and turned the heat to high.  I thought this amusing. I'd turn off the skillet, guide her back to her room and we'd chat awhile.
   Or, she'd relate at breakfast when I'd eat with her and Daddy, "A man was in my bed last night/A couple was pushing me off my bed/Marvin (her deceased brother) slept with me." Daddy and I would go along and tell her to kick them out. If it were her brother, I'd ask, "Did you ask him what he was doing in the area?" She'd have a plausible answer.  This was rather fun, you know, playing along rather than fuss and declare, "Oh that's all in your mind."
   Mother loved to travel. In those aging days she'd say one day, "Lets go to Colorado today." I'd say, "What a lovely day to go somewhere." So we'd hop in the car and I'd drive around and then tell her it was too late to go to Colorado without plans. We'd spend the next day looking at a US map, plotting how we'd get there. Another time she'd want to go to New York, Chicago, Florida. The map was a way to keep her happy. We'd talk about the sights we'd find in those places.
   Now I'm caring for my husband. The good point is he has his mental faculties. Oh, a bit of forgetfulness, but he can still give me a word I'm searching for as I write a story. He reads and naps. I cook and deliver his two meals, roll him to the bathroom, keep him warm. He is easier than my mother was, so I shouldn't complain. Yet, stress creeps in like a fog and before I know it,  fatigue has embraced me like an old coat. We're solving that situation soon.
   Have a wonderful January, everyone