Category: Friends and Family

Cynthia

An imperative to providing the right level of care for one’s loved one – mom, in this case – is to understand where she is and what drives her. At times I want to blurt “it’s not always about you,” but in reality, it is. It is always about the person for whom you are caring.

My mother has always been a narcissistic extrovert. She loves being the center of attention wherever she goes. And she always wants to go.  Yet as her ailment progresses, she finds it more and more difficult to do and to enjoy the things she loves.

We were invited to my aunt’s home for lunch. Prior to leaving I had a webinar. I ensured mom was completely dressed and ready to go, except for putting on shoes. We wait until the last minute to put on shoes as her feet swell. I reminded her to keep her feet up in her recliner and I would help her put on her shoes just prior to leaving.

After the webinar I went to help her. She was completely worn out … from attempting to put on socks and her shoes. Finally, she got her shoes on without socks. She was so tired she wasn’t certain she would make it to the car. Still, she wanted to go. So we went.

We had a lovely lunch at my aunt’s. I signaled to my aunt that I needed to take mom home, but my aunt had made a beautiful coconut cream pie and insisted we have dessert before we leave.  Mom graciously ate the dessert. Then we hurried off, expressing our apologies.

Once home, mom immediately plopped into her chair, barely able to move. She caught her breath and said, “I just get too tired.  I want to go, but it makes me exhausted.” After helping her into bed, I pondered, “how could I have made this easier for her?”

The answer. I cannot. The best I can do is allow her to operate at her own pace.

Cynthia

A few months ago my brother, my soulmate, passed away.  I was devastated. I could not imagine life without my big brother, to whom I looked up. Over the months before his passing I took my turn at caring for him to give his wife a break. He became frustrated and agitated at the loss of his independence. The days and nights ran together for him, his wife and for me. At the same time I was caring for my mother who also was a hospice patient and my granddaughter who had multiple issues and eventually surgery the week before my brother passed.  During this time sleep evaded me. My energy dropped. Yet, as we women often do, I pressed on.

Throughout the months of caregiving and the days after he passed, friends checked in to see how I was coping. Often just a quick phone call or a short text of “thinking of you” with a heart emoji was just what I needed to know my heart was enfolded in their love.

My brother was very spiritual and patriotic, but not religious. In planning for my brother’s Celebration of Life my nieces, sister, sister-in-love, and I decided to serve foods he enjoyed. Because I frequently made pies for him, I volunteered to make 200 mini blueberry pies for the “party.”

Friends and family gathered one Saturday morning to help. How comforting to be surrounded by friends and family during this time of intense grief. I had an opportunity to share some memories of my dear brother.

Having always valued my friendships, I have an even greater appreciation for the “little things” one can do to support a friend in grief. A card, a note, a smile, an ear. Never think your small expression of caring goes unnoticed.  It means the world, even if the recipient cannot respond at the time.