If the past year taught me anything, it taught me what a caregiver needs most is to be believed and encouraged. Because most of the time you just feel so alone, plodding through your day of caregiving. Because caregiving is not glamorous--making meals, doing laundry, driving to appointments, cleaning--at times it is downright, mind-numbingly boring. Because no one but the caregiver knows how draining, straining, and exhausting all of this can be.
My stepmom, Sheila, married my dad nearly 50 years ago, and within a year was thrust headlong into being a full-time parent--when my mom abandoned my then 14-year old handicapped brother. Since then she has been David's caregiver, dealing with the daily grind and challenges of having a mentally challenged son. She almost never asks for help, and rarely complains. And when she would vent about behavior problems or issues, I am embarrassed to admit I thought she was exaggerating.
Well, a week ago Sheila called and asked for help. My dad, who is almost never sick, was having trouble breathing and was getting very weak, so she needed someone to watch David for a few days. Of course I said yes; I drove to Knoxville and brought David here until things "settled down" at their house. I figured, how hard can it be? I've known David my whole life, so I knew what he was like. Piece of cake, we thought.
Fast forward seven days. I am convinced Sheila is a saint. Although David is 65 years old, and can handle basic things like eating, sleeping, some hygiene, and minor chores, he requires adult supervision. He has the mind of a child, and a recalcitrant child at that.H e only hears what he wants to hear, he is easily bored (bored=trouble), and he has his own way of doing things--his way. Think Dustin Hoffman in Rain Man. And while Alex and I managed to get through the week, I have so much more respect and admiration for this woman. And to think she does this every day!
My dad was in and out of the hospital twice, and is now slowly recuperating at home. Sheila is getting some rest as well, and told us to bring David back this coming weekend. Time to get back into the routine, she says. Can't thank you enough, she says. You have no idea how much this helped us, she says. She's right. All I had was a very brief glimpse into her world.
I am humbled by our experience over the past week. I thought I knew what she goes through. I do not. I thought I understood what it means to take care of my brother. I do not. And I thought I was encouraging her enough, and building her up. I was not. From now on, I am her biggest fan, her most exuberant cheerleader, and her loyal encourager.
"Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful. And let us consider how to stir up one another on to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near."
That was the reading from my Everyday Prayers last Friday, along with the author's thoughts on importance of being intentional and regular in bringing encouragement to friends, family, and those God puts in our path. This morning, as I reflected on the past week, I went back to August 19th and read it again. I never cease to be amazed and awed at how God speaks to me, and corrects me, in so many different ways. It happens so often I am no longer surprised by His divine "coincidences."
No comments:
Post a Comment