Earlier this spring I celebrated 4,000 hours logged as a caregiver! Woo hoo!
I feel like I’m just getting to that point… like when you’re learning an instrument and you’ve practiced a lot and put in the work and realize, huh, you’re now at a place where you sortof know what you are doing. You have fun. You make music. All the exercises and etudes start to reap exciting results.
Centrum Silver? I know exactly where it is in most Walgreens. No appetite, low weight? I know a few tricks and recipes, maybe I can even bring some joy back to mealtimes! House tucked way back in a neighborhood? I know how to wander around till I find it!
Ask me the same question over and over? I can answer it with patience about 25 more times than I could when I started. Easily confused/anxious/forgetful? I will speak clearly and slowly and drop in repetitive details in a comforting way.
Holidays? I know to make them a special occasion. Laundry days? I will whistle while I work, put fresh sheets on your bed, and possibly wrangle a way to wash that sweater you always wear. Bad days? I will hold your hand, pray for you, do whatever I can to help. Everydays? I hope I can make you smile and bring some cheer just by being there.
Anyway, I’m working on the next thousand hours, and I’m having so much fun.