Friday, January 26, 2018

this is supposed to...

...make me feel better about the situation with the auntie. As I was leaving the facility where she lives, someone who obviously works there asked if I was ok? And: 'is there anything I could do to help?' I told her who I was and how I had just brought the auntie back from a dental appointment. How the auntie (who has zero short term memory) refused to understand that she would have to stay in the assisted living facility: which she claims to hate, cannot stand another minute and is desperate to get away from. Demanding to know who is going to pay for that place, insisting it is too expensive, and swearing that she is: completely miserable, the food is awful, the workers are terrible and she is miserable. And, also, how much she hates it.

This worker told me a really heart aching story. She is one of five siblings, but none of the others were willing to take any responsibility for their mom, all saying: Let Cheryl do it.  Her mom had remarried, but the aging couple were both in such dire straits, Cheryl had to insist her mom get a divorce. To force the adult children of the husband into a position where they could/would have to take care of the man, as Cheryl had her hands full trying to tend to mom with failing memory.

She said: 'I really do know what you are going through. It is awful, heart wrenching, and so sadly frustrating for you to feel like you are doing the very best that you know how, yet still being badgered and bullied. Getting nothing but complaints and criticism even though it is obvious there is no one else to step up and take responsibility.' And then she said something that really brought me to tears.

Something that I have probably told a dozen people in the past year. Folks I have witnessed being caring and compassionate, offering kindness and hospitality to others in need. People who have opened their doors and wallets and hearts to people who have for various reasons gotten into circumstances where they feel the waves washing over their heads: desperate for a life preserver, but simply out of hope.

I've seen vastly differing circumstances a number of times in recent months, that result in similar reactions: people putting their plans, priorities and lives on hold, taking the time to provide a needed service, or boost up. Being that individual who does not cross to the other side of the road to avoid a problem, but stops to offer help. Like that traveler in the parable who stopped to bind the wounds, provide first aid, a safe haven, rather than lifting the hem of his garment to avoid the time-consuming complications that stopping might entail.

These are the ones need to hear what Cheryl told me today. They are the caregivers who do the job day in an day out. Choosing to do the messy, sloppy, often distasteful jobs that are so necessary. And  they are the ones we need to acknowledge, stop, give a hug and say: (this is what Cheryl said to me) "you are going to have a wealth of stars in your crown when you get to heaven." Meaning, I think, as I have often said it to others, friends, relatives or complete strangers who are usually caring for aging parent(s). Wanting them to know our hearts ache for them, and our belief and hope that there might not be any body who notices what you are doing here in this life, but you will most assuredly find your reward in the next one.


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