This is a question that has been running through my head for quite some time. It’s not a thought emanating from a feeling of self-pity. Well, okay, maybe once in a blue moon, although I’m not one prone to a lot of self-pity. It’s more a thought that somehow, some way, there should be caretakers for caretakers. If only sometimes. Maybe that traditionally comes in the form of spouses. I have no idea since I’ve never really had one although I’ve been married twice, briefly each time. The question comes more from the role I’ve filled for the last several years of caretaker to my family members: my daughter, granddaughter, and now my elderly mom.
January 2012 started off with yet another hospital visit. This time it was my mom. The visit was only two days and although it was an upper respiratory virus issue that took her in, it was the low oxygen and very slow heart rate that kept her there. She has fantastic doctors so I wasn’t too concerned this time, but at nearly 93, any hospital visit with her is cause for concern. She’s home now and fine – a lingering sinus cold – but fine. Yet, throughout all this (and other hospital visits), the message I’ve heard from my family and friends has been “Take care of yourself”. My consistent response is, “I will” or “I am”.
Do I know how to take care of myself? Of course I do when it comes to the basics of feeding, housing, supporting myself. I wonder sometimes though if I really, truly, honestly know how to slow down, stop, get rest, and nurture myself. I think this is what they are really suggesting. And do I really want to? See, if I stop, I have to face facts. I face the fact that I come home to an empty home (unless you count the menagerie.) And I have to face the fact that I could lose my loved one – a fact that will eventually come true because no one lives forever.
And so what? It is what it is. I choose not to dwell in self-pity. Rather, I like to focus on the positive. It may be that I’m naturally Pollyanna-ish, but I also think it’s more of a habit I’ve acquired through regular practice. So, when I force myself to slow down and stop, to nurture myself with warm drinks, soft blankets, and a chance to exhale, I focus on the fact that I have a beautiful home, a home in which to invite family and friends and possibly a future mate. I focus on what I already have, not on what might be lacking. Most importantly, I remember that I have a beautiful family, full of kids and grandkids that love me and want me in their lives, a mother that needs, loves, and trusts me, and who is proud of me. And who I am grateful and honored to be allowed to be her caretaker at this precious time in her life.
So, who takes care of the caretaker? No one. And that’s okay. It’s just how it is as an adult. We no longer have a mommy to come to our rescue, so we need to learn to self-soothe. This year, my focus is on self-soothing in healthy, positive ways. Remembering and re-learning how to take care of me. This means getting back in the swing of my Weight Watchers and feeling better about myself and my body. (Losing weight is far more to me than just clothing sizes – it builds my confidence and esteem.) Taking care of me means getting enough sleep each night, taking time to have a few deep breaths, and most importantly, taking time out for people in my life other than the one I’m taking care of so they don’t feel forgotten, and so that I never forget just how much I love them too. And also so I don’t forget just how much I need them.
Taking care of the caretaker means that I also need to build a social life. One that has been neglected over the past few years. And laughing. God, how I need to remember how to laugh. Life can be so serious, and laughter is such a stress reliever with no calories attached.
Ok, enough rambling for now. I have to get busy and get to work so I can keep my fantabulous job that affords me flexibility and freedom to be with my mom worry free. Thank you, God.
And thank you for listening to my ramblings this cold, winter morning.
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