Curiosity overcame me. My desk sat across the hall from this resident’s room, and it sounded like a party in there. She was new and had moved from the community, so I didn’t know a lot about her. I’d met her three daughters, who seemed lovely and supportive, and Mom smiled every time I went in the room. However, the normal response to admission to care had never been a party, so I stepped in the room.
Mom lay in the bed, looking like a queen on her throne. I soon learned Mom seldom left the bed except under extreme coercion (usually from either our Physio or her daughters trying to get her to do physio) but when she lay there, the smile never left her face. All three daughters sprawled around the room with snacks scattered between them. When I came in, they offered me some and chattered and laughed. When I left, I shook my head in wonder. It was a party.
As I got to know that family better, I learned they had almost lost their mother several months before, and the road back had been uncertain. Thrilled to have Mother still among them and living in this place where she would receive excellent care, they celebrated every day. And, they were happy people. One daughter told me she always bought red underwear, just because it made her happy.
Their mother lived with us for maybe nine months, and I attended parties in that room whenever I could. I learned from that family.
Gifts to Give
If you are outside of the caregiving journey looking in, what gifts can you give your friends or family going through this experience?
Acceptance
The “party family” were unusual, and it would be easy to judge. The truth lies in the fact that, as different as family caregivers are, the way they handle their role is unique. Some need to be there every day. Some, not so much, but are only an email or phone call away. Some have no idea what their family member is going through and grieve constantly the loss of someone still there. Others find ways to bring their elder into the family and make them feel needed. Whoever they are and however they try to cope, accept them. You may have some wisdom to share, and it may be much needed, but if it comes from a place of acceptance, it’s more likely they will hear.
Understanding
Closely tied to acceptance, understanding goes one step further. It says, “I see your pain.”
George, a single son who cared for his mother, showed her in so many ways that he loved her. Her drawers were stuffed with lovely clothes he bought her, to the point where several of us joked we wanted George to adopt us. He visited frequently, and anything she wanted, from a day trip with other residents to an audiobook, was hers. When his mom neared the end of her journey, she developed swallowing problems. George decided to have a feeding tube inserted, despite the cautions of medical staff. We watched over the next few months as she struggled with infections and trips to the hospital to re-insert the tube. We saw his agony and understood when he made the heart-wrenching decision, after the third re-insertion, to let her go. We may not agree with every decision families make, but the gift of understanding goes a long way.
Support
Care for the caregiver! Find a way–a listening ear, a cup of tea, a meal, shovel their driveway…be creative. What you do is important; the fact that you do it, gold. Caregiving is a long and often lonely journey. A small act of support which says, “I see you. I care.” changes everything.
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