Saturday, April 21, 2012


You have no idea the things I've seen, and done, and will yet do before this chapter comes to an end. Many of the things caregivers do can't be talked about in polite society. We would be shunned. No joke. Perhaps that's why the story I'm about to tell shook me a little, shamed me even.

Two days ago, a colleague offered that he admired me. "Ha!" I thought. Holding my bowed head I replied, "Don't admire me nuh. You have no idea how un-pretty some of this is."

He responded, "But that's just the point. I know it's not all pretty. But still you come out here, you're pleasant, you're not mad at the world, you're not bitter. I don't care what you say,  I'm saying that I admire that you can do it." He has some expertise in this area himself, having watched his mother care for his grandmother and later, having run the dementia gauntlet with her. He more than most, gets what this is (and what this is not) and has an all too keen understanding of what this can do to you.

I laughed and said, "I've tried all those things! They don't work!" That was then. This is now.

In this very moment, when my mother has just given me that "What you talkin' 'bout Willis" look; in this moment when my mother is up and down the stairs (probably 7 times in the last 40 minutes); in THIS moment, there is nothing to be admired in the way I feel.

How do I feel? E-M-P-T-Y, like there's nothing more in there, not even fumes. The tank is dry. Dry as the Sahara dry. Dry like my skin on a really cold day....TMI? OK, sorry. But DRY. It is only the Grace of the Divine and Living God that keeps me putting one foot in front of the other....that and the hope that any day now that one of these will appear.

No comments:

Post a Comment