Will The Real Michelle Please Stand Up?

I'm tired. Sometimes exhausted. Most of the time I'm great. It depends on the day and which Michelle shows up for the job. There are many personalities that inhabit my caregiving. But when I'm not great, when I'm tired, I question my decision to take dad in. I start to ask myself "self, was this a good idea?" "is it time to put him in a home?" "would he be happier surrounded by others or would he feel lonely?" "would I really be happier if he weren't in our home?" "would he?" "am I doing a good job?" "should I have reacted differently when he did that?" My many selves know the questions are endless and there really is no right or wrong answers to most of them. And it depends which one of me you ask...

In February we will start our sixth year. Dad, Tom and my many selves. One big happy family. Sometimes Tom jokingly asks "who am I speaking to?" A reference to Sybil. He's careful which me he says that to. Some of me's are cool with the gentle tease, some of me don't like it! He's learned to see who has emerged to care for dad that day.

Let me introduce my selves. There is Michelle, super christian. Michelle the wonder woman. (these two can merge to form one super duper Michelle!) Michelle the artist and writer. Happy go lucky Michelle and risk averse Michelle. There is co-dependent Michelle and independent Michelle. Compassionate patient Michelle and hurry the hell up Michelle. Just let me cry it out Michelle and crazy-better-get-the-straight-jacket and book-the-padded room Michelle. And these are just a few we have identified. The ones that show up most often. Did I mention that I can be one Michelle in the morning and a completely different Michelle by noon?

Caring for dad didn't give me multiple personalities. The Michelle's have always been here. But care giving has given a few of them a voice that is louder and a force that is more urgent. Maybe I'm older and can't control them as well. Or maybe I'm older and have just made peace with their presence. I do know I value some more than others and that I've learned lately that we all need each other. Cry it out Michelle occasionally needs to hear from Suck it up Michelle and OCD Michelle occasionally needs to listen to who the hell cares? Michelle. We all have a part to play and a job to do.

 I've earned my Michelle's! And I've learned my Michelle's. I've learned that while she is a necessary part of me, cry it out Michelle can get a little dramatic. Suck it up Michelle has no patience for her but is at a loss when it comes to reigning her in. She can't hear because she is sobbing so loudly!!  Super Christian Michelle when teamed up with wonder woman Michelle are a force to be reckoned with, but are too much alike and tend to crash and burn quickly. They are best tempered with mild mannered Michelle or better yet filled with the spirit Michelle. Crazy-better-get-the-straight-jacket and book-the-padded-room Michelle don't come around too often, since NONE of my others likes that one!

And so you see, I am never alone in my madness. If you thought I was nuts to take my dad into our home, this might just prove your point. And then again, they say it takes a village to raise a child. Maybe it takes a lot of Michelle's to care for one Sam?

Finishing Well

My mother always said "if you're going to do something, do it right". It's a good excuse not to do anything, since you know you can't/won't do it right!  And we had some pretty high standards in our house, so there was this thought process in me that said-if know you can't do it well why bother? It's a cop out really, but that saying, said by my mom repeatedly, shaped me. It's part of who I am now, and I believe it. There's something to be said for doing a thing to the best of your ability.

And along the way I picked up another...what do I call it? Life lesson? A goal? A burden? Ha-sometimes high standards can weigh a person down. This "standard" is: if you start something, see it through. Easier said than done and I don't think everything is worth finishing. I really don't. Sometimes it's just not worth the effort.  But I try to finish what I start as a general principle. And again, why start something if you aren't going to finish it? But do I finish everything? Heck no!!

All this leads me to my post today. When Dad gets hard to live with, or I get burned out, (or both at the same time!)  I wrestle with doing this right and seeing it through to the end. They are two different ideas or standards that can be done separately. One is hanging in there and toughing it out and the other is the quality of the job you are doing. You can just hang in there or you can hang in there and do a thing well. Lately, I've just been hanging in there. Don't get me wrong-there's value to hanging in there at times. I do, somehow, by God's good grace, stay married!! (Tom is a saint) So I think we have to decide what's worth finishing. But if a thing is worth finishing, isn't it then also worth doing well? To the best of our ability?  The meatier business, the challenge then, is finishing well.

So as I was thinking about writing this, I reread some of my previous stuff. Stuff I've published and stuff I haven't. I noticed a trend. I write after the fact. After a lesson has been learned or after I've had that "ah-ha" moment. It's why my blogger address is titled sacred-caregiving. Here are the first two definitions of sacred:

Sacred-adjective

1.devoted or dedicated to a deity or to some religious purpose; consecrated.

2.entitled to veneration or religious respect by association with divinity or divine things; holy.


I've said before that I feel this journey is less about my dad and more about what God is teaching me through caring for him. I dedicate this work of caregiving and this blog to the God who gives me the strength to do it. But I must admit, there are days, weeks and sometimes-those weeks stretch into months-where you would really wonder if that's true. If you saw how I behaved, my impatience, my sharp tongue. Days, weeks & months where I'm not doing it well at all. Hanging in there, yes, but doing things well, no. Burnt out, bummed out and ready to throw in the towel.

And thank you if you want to write me and tell me these feelings are normal and not to be so hard on myself. That it's a hard job and my feelings are valid. That may be true, but it's not a pass to speak harshly to him or to be unkind when he does something on purpose to irritate me. (I believe it's the only sport he has these days-and he gets reaction every time!! You'd think I'd learn??? ;) The irritation that rises after telling him the same thing six times in the same hour. You'd think knowing he has Alzheimer's would imbue me with supernatural patience and compassion. Wish it did. I still get irritated. No, there's a higher standard for this. A way to do this right. And I can't seem to do it right. But when I do catch that wave of love and compassion, I know its not me, and its sacred.

So as I reread my older stuff, my own blog ministered to me. Ah, and there is what's been missing! I keep trying to do this myself. To tough it out and push through. And I'm glad I did because out on the other side God's grace fills me with compassion, tenderness, patience and love. It's an ongoing process of learning to lean on God for the grace to do the job. Maybe one day, I'll learn this lesson? Because I do want to finish, but more importantly, I want to finish well.

On a Clear Day

I write today from my heart. I'm not going to second guess it or save it and read it tomorrow to see if I should put it out there. I write to give it my voice and to join with others who have or are going through the same. There is something about shared experience that makes it easier. So this is for me, but also for all of you I know are going through the same thing. I hope it encourages you.

I try to keep a glass half full approach to life. I live with a glass half empty dad these days. I wouldn't say he's unhappy, just old and tired and sort of done. His favorite saying is "the golden years suck!" His perspective is skewed by his losses and the betrayal of his body and mind. In his mind the good is behind him. I try not to judge that or lecture him to "look at the bright side", because I'm not sure he hasn't earned the right to it. I don't remember if he was so negative before mom died, but I don't think so.

 I tried to get dad to the barber this morning, but he refused to go because "I'm just too tired. I'm always tired anymore. I'm just tired. Let me sleep."  With those words was a weariness of the soul. I cancelled the appointment. Some days are better than others. I do my best to make his days easy, but I understand his limitations. Again, at 92 he's earned the right to take a nap an hour after he gets up!!

He would never say he's got/had it bad. He's just living in a very small world right now. That's hard for a guy who's seen most of the globe and done almost everything he wanted to do in life. So the glass really has emptied for this man who had the world by the tail most of his life.

 But sometimes I catch myself falling into the half empty glass with him. Because I live with/see daily the loss that comes with age, it's hard not to look down the road and think "well crap, this is gunna be a bummer!" When just getting out of bed is exhausting. And then I remind myself that while I may be captain of my ship, I have absolutely no control over the weather. Sure, I can steer the wheel. And on a clear day that might get me somewhere. But during a storm I am at nature's mercy and my best bet is to make sure I have a sturdy ship that can weather that storm. Because there will be another storm. One of the lessons I'm learning is: put up the sails and cruise for all its worth when the weather is good kids!

And another message I heard today: When the glass begins to look half empty and you see your parents enduring so much loss, you need to make sure your ship is storm ready. I know that God is in control and while I do not understand it all-deep in the why's and the "are you kidding me's?"-I've learned to trust even when I can't see through the rain in the storms. Sometimes I understand the why's later. Sometimes I don't. But to realize that He is the master of the clear day as well as the storm and that only He can keep my ship from sinking!

The storms serve a purpose. They help us understand our place in the scheme of things and the limitations of our ship. Our destination has more to do with where the storms blow our ship than our skills as a sailor and how well we sail on a clear day.

Just some thoughts on a clear day. Put up your sails and take your parent out on the water.

Soul Care

Warning: this post has lots of heavy spiritual stuff. If that's not your thing, now is a good time to opt for another blog!

dad watching TV in the hospital bed

I've been so busy lately that I really haven't had time to blog much. (I write them and don't finish them so I have a bunch I need to finish and post) When dad is doing well I tend to get busy. I'm not sure what I do, but it started last spring with the yard and garden and its just kept going. So it's good that dad is doing well. And it gives me a reprieve. That can all change with the blink of an eye.

Two weeks ago, out of nowhere, he spiked a fever and lost all the strength in his legs. I've been down that road before, so I wasted no time getting him to a doctor. Well, I tried Urgent Care first, which was a waste of time and we ended up in the ER and then the hospital for five days. He has bounced back really quickly this time which I'm very grateful for. He was able to come home instead of going to rehab. A decision that I may have made to quickly-because Tom and I both ended up with the same flu-and baby, what a ride-but because he bounced back so quickly and is gaining so much strength with the in home therapy it's all come out alright. But this last round in the hospital got me thinking. About time. How much time do I really have left with dad? 

I'm very much a doer. If Jesus were over for dinner I would definitely be a Martha. If you know that story, you know Mary was at the feet of Jesus, and Martha thought Mary should be helping her with the work. The Martha's of this world relate. We understand there is a job to be done and someone has got to do it. But what the story is all about is that you miss the best thing while you're doing the good thing and "getting stuff done".

I had been thinking that I'd been so busy that I hadn't been taking the time with Dad that I should. I provide for his needs and do the work that by now is second nature to his care, but I have been missing a vital piece. The caring for his soul. I've written about this before, I think, and I believe it should be THE priority in my care taking-so why do I find I've let this slip through the cracks? Because I got busy being Martha again.

People need to connect. To be loved. It is our most basic need. How often do we care for people in the most practical ways yet miss the most important way. To care for a child, spouse or a parent's physical needs-but be so busy "doing" we miss doing the more important work of feeding their souls? I realize that it's not an actual job or something tangible that I can mark off a list. But darn it! Why isn't it? So, I'm going to put that on my list. 1) exercise 2) finish laundry 3) attend to dads soul care...Or better yet 1) attend to dads soul care 2) exercise 3) finish laundry. 

And how can we do this? How can we honor a parents soul? A caring touch or a hug. Looking into their eyes when you ask them how they are this morning. Listening, when you ask how they are. Making time to talk to them for more than just a mealtime conversation. Letting them tell the same story you've heard a hundred times as though it was the first time. Making them feel valuable and important and useful, when society says the exact opposite. Saying "I love you dad". These are a few, but you get the drift. It's the little things. The things we can forget when there is a flurry of activity and things to get done.

The elderly have to deal with an incredible amount of loss. I spend a lot of time with them anymore and I can tell you the losses are many. Most have lost a spouse of many years.  Loneliness is huge in that demographic.  As is depression.  Taking care of their physical needs is of course critical. But taking care of their soul needs is a little harder. They may have mental issues that makes it harder to figure out what if anything you can do for their soul. But Alzheimer research has shown that music can open up the soul of a person otherwise closed by the disease. There is much research on the healing effects of touch and smell. My experience has been that while that person is not who they used to be there is still a soul locked in that mind. Even those whose minds have been ravaged by the disease may respond to something deeper that touches their soul. 

So, while I don't want him to go to the hospital again, it did snap me back to the realities of time and lack thereof. Being a busy Martha it's easy to be distracted by the physical needs in the world. It reminded me to make sure that my care taking is as much about the soul care as it is about his physical needs. And slowing down always gives me the gift of intention. When I go through my day with intention I can lay my head down on the pillow at night and even if I've checked nothing of my "to do" list, I can sleep well knowing I did what was really important that day.

It's All Good!

"It's all good" is a phrase my son used to say a lot a few years ago. It kind of means "that's fine". I liked the saying, because I like the idea that it's all good! "Hey, sorry I didn't call you back"--"it's all good man!" That type of thing. No sweat. No problem. It's fine. It's all good. Looking over my blog posts I feel like they have been mostly about the hardship and negative side of caring for dad. And don't get me wrong, it's been no easy road. But I'd like to share some of the good things that have come from it. It might not be all good, but it hasn't been all bad either. 

I want to talk about two things in particular, that have to do with time. The first is that I have the time to spend doing things I was too busy for before. One of those things is more time to spend with God, reading the bible and meditating on it.  A key to my mental well being was seeking God and looking for his presence and purpose in my situation. I can honestly say that it deepened my faith, but it also taught me a lot about myself and how God can change me to be more like Him through my circumstance. If I'm paying attention. And that's key. 

The other thing I learned in relation to time is that we only have a finite amount of it. Most of us don't really think about that so much. But when you're around someone who's time is running very short, it sort of becomes a dominate theme!! Though that is looming large, the lesson for me here was to really listen to my dad and his stories. I've had precious time to hear my dad's stories. The memories from his life. Alzheimer's robs them of short term memory first and then more slowly erodes their long term as well. Dad is in mid stage and still has pretty good memories from his past. In the beginning, he would repeat these same memories over and over again to the point I found it annoying. And then I started asking people "did I already tell you that??" It's one of the hazards of living with someone who's memory is failing--you start to wonder where yours has gone!! 

One morning during the time I spent with God, I felt him speak to me about my attitude toward dad and his stories. That night during dinner dad began a story I had heard already earlier that day. I turned to my husband and did the eyeroll. My husband did something I'd never seen, or at least never registered before. Instead of uh-huh-ing my dad he asked him a question about his story. Now we both knew the answer to that question, but dad's eyes lit up and he told that story with gusto! I heard that still small voice tell me to hold on to that. To learn from it. My husband was valuing my dad and his memory. I needed to do the same. I learned to listen to his stories as though I had never heard them before. I was attentive, not annoyed. I asked questions instead of saying "you already told me that!" I valued them as a part of my dad. Memories of the man who's time was now short. 

As time went on I began to realize these stories would die when he did. So I began to write them down. I got this bright idea I would would write them down and illustrate them in a nice journal, so I began to write them down. He doesn't know that he's told us this stuff for the 847th time. He's thrilled for someone to listen to his stories. These are his life. What he remembers of it anyway. As I recorded them I realized they were more than just memories. He remembered these particular things for a reason. They have meaning to him. Recording his stories, his memories, has really enriched the time I have with him. It turned a situation that has been troubling (it reminds you when they repeat things that they are slipping)  and irritating (I cant help it, I'm human) into a way to know my father better. I understood that these stories were his view of life. They are of adventures and friendships. Of my mother and our lives as a family. His childhood, and travels. They are what he's left with. And while that may be sad in one sense, it is a blessing to still have him around with the ability to tell these stories. It is an honor to be able to save them and use them in my art. And when I realized their value instead of viewing them as a symbol of his failing mind, they changed me. I was so wrapped up in the sadness of the repetition and that he seemed to only remember the past, that I was missing the now. The blessing in the here and now! And the blessing of being able to share in and record a well lived life. 

You see, what we feed is what will grow. If I had fed that irritation, that dismissal of the memories he had left, I would have robbed us both of a priceless gift. I'm glad God gave me the insight to slow down and take the time to cherish these stories and give them the importance they deserve. To honor dad by listening each time as though I'd never heard it before. To let him tell his stories and remember his life. The good and the bad. To mine this rich history that is part of my history as well.

So I am journalling these slowly, with intention. Occasionally he will tell one he hasn't for a while and that I don't have down yet. I will scramble to write them down, often on a scrap of paper if we are out, but I make a way to record them. I have many pages and loose scraps that I have to get busy and put in the journal. After I understood the lesson God was trying to teach me, a verse in the bible reminded me that this whole journey has a purpose. Its a commonly known verse. Romans 8:28 And we know that in all things God works for the good of the who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.  If we take the time to ask God for the lessons and pay attention to His answers we can find the good in every situation. That's my biggest take away from all this. There is a reason, a plan. For my good. For dads good. So, you see, it is all good. 

Caretaker Cap

The other day in a parking lot dad and I saw a mama goose sitting on her eggs in one of the medians between parking spaces. Mr. Goose was strolling among the spaces, standing tall and walking proud. My dad proceeds to tell me (again for the hundredth time this spring :) that geese mate for life. We only saw Mr. Goose and dad was afraid that he was without a mate. Any time we see a lone goose, he tells me how sad it is and that geese mate for life and they don't know what to do with themselves if the mate dies. That last bit is his slant and I believe it's significant to him, given his loss. Anyway, on our way out of the lot after doing my errand, he asks me to drive by Mrs. Goose. I drive up next to her and roll down the window and we talk to her and ask her if she's having a good day sitting on her soon to be goslings. Dad loves this and as we drive away he laughs and says "that's a joyous thing-nature is so wonderful!" What an old softie!

Those are the good times. It's times like those that make the hard times worth the trouble.  But there are hard times. Many of these posts address the mental aspect of caretaking. And the mental stress will lead to physical stress if it goes on too long. You need to stay healthy. I really underestimated the stress piece of caretaking and the way it would affect me, or how important respite would be to my overall health. And why do we need to take care of ourselves as caretakers? Say it with me now--"you can't take care of someone else if you are sick yourself!" The stress of caretaking can show up physically, mentally and spiritually. And trust me, it will if you don't learn to manage it. Now, let's talk some more about the mental stress.I want to talk about a shift that took place in me that helped both my dads stress and my own.

This is not easy for me to share. I feel vulnerable, and yet I know it's not unique to me. I am not the first to feel these things or walk this path. But I felt very alone at the time. I was watching dad's mental decline and not really understanding  what was happening (you really never will understand dementia/Alzheimer's. There is just so much we don't know yet), how long it would take or how it would look in a day, a year or three. I never anticipated his resourcefulness and ability to hide his illness or make it seem as though he meant to do what he did. Sometimes he did mean to do a thing and then would blame it on the disease-(pretty smart huh?)-I think, to have some control. It was very confusing and frustrating.

 Bringing him here meant selling his house and most of his possessions. It wasn't the "things" so much as what it meant to give up everything you own and all your independence, bring only what you could fit in two small rooms and depend on others to care for you. Dad has always been the one everyone depended on. A strong, independent man. He just did not understand why we were doing this, and while he knew he had issues (we tried explaining them to him) he just somehow didn't believe it. That it was that bad. That we needed to be this drastic. He was a mess of conflicting emotions, in denial of his issues-yet he almost seemed relieved to not have the stress of living alone. He was angry with us for "forcing" the move, but thankful that we were there for him. One day he would ask you to start doing something that was difficult for him and the next be angry you were doing it. And all the upheaval was really hard on his mental state.

 After he moved in, he was a hot mess. He cried and argued over everything. He was clearly taking his anger and frustrations out on me and while I knew that, I couldn't help but be heartbroken. He viewed me as the enemy of his freedom. Yes, the others had a part, but he viewed me as the one who ruined his life. (still does) And in a way I was. The next moment he was thanking me for taking him in! It didn't matter that it was what was best for him, his fury was hard to take but I understood it in the way you understand something that you know you might experience yourself someday. You don't really understand, but you can imagine. And I hadn't really thought this through. I just needed him out of that house before he burned it down or some other calamity happened!

And so here we were. Both of us completely miserable. Dad was obviously depressed. Nothing I tried was working and the depression in combination with the mental confusion made for some pretty tense times. I've talked about depression being the #1 issue for the elderly and he was pretty bad off. I took him to the doctor and asked the Dr. to suggest medication but he would have none of that. He wasn't depressed and didn't want to be on any more drugs. It was then that something clicked for me. I understood in that office that dad was not thinking clearly for whatever reason, depression or dementia-it didn't matter which, and it was my job as caretaker to make those decisions for him. With the help of anti-depressants he could live the remainder of his life happy and not depressed. So I got a medical power of attorney and I put him on anti-depressants and I've never looked back. I told him I did it, he pitched a fit, but there was nothing he could really do about it. And he forgot soon enough, which can be my greatest working tool at times. I think that was when I understood that I wasn't dealing with my dad anymore. Not really. I was dealing with a shell of the man I called dad. His pride and fighting spirit were in tact, but they were misdirected and not guided by reason.

It was that day, in the doctor's office that I really stepped up from daughter to caretaker. And I cried that day. The loss is so great for a parent if they live long enough. Little by little life takes back all that it gave. It's not fair. Some handle it better than others. But dad has never been one to go down without a fight. I respect that and at the same time I was trying to find a way to honor that without both of us going down in flames-because he raised me well and I can be as stubborn as he is! Learning not to fight or try to reason with him but instead take the reigns as caretaker was an adjustment. Between his meds and improved mood and my understanding of my new role as caretaker first, daughter second, we were able to move forward to a better mental place for dad. For me, it's been hard to adjust to being the bad guy and making decisions he isn't going to be happy about, like getting rid of his car. And it's tricky because the Alzheimer's makes things murky. I am always trying to be careful not to do too much for him or do something just because it's easier for me. Now, when I come to uncharted territory, I put on my caretaker cap and leave the daughter cap on the shelf. I try to see it clinically and I do research to make decisions that are the best for everyone.

Things are better now, three years in. I feel blessed that he's in as good a place as he is. He doesn't  fight much with me anymore or buck my "authority", but he still makes hurtful comments sometimes. Still calls me the Nazi, dictator or whatever the current slam. I try not to let it get to me, but the daughter inside winces.  I tell myself he wouldn't hurt me if he wasn't hurting so himself, and I know that's true. I know the old dad, and if he could reason or see things clearly, he wouldn't have waited as long as I did to step up if things were reversed. My struggle has been to realize when I need to step up and that has changed over the years. Every so often a new challenge arises and I need to shift into caretaker mode. But these days I enjoy many more days with my daughter cap on while we enjoy the simple pleasures of a couple of geese!!

Keeping it Real

In the spirit of keeping it real, I have a confession to make. I'm not enlightened or have all the answers. Bet you knew that tho, huh? If you know me at all, you may even wonder who the spiritual chick is who writes this stuff! All that spiritual stuff I wrote about, how you just have to obey and give it all to God-that stuff-it's all true and I really believe it. But sadly, I don't do it all the time. This is real, and I am human. And the real, human side, fails.

A few days ago I returned from a beautiful vacation. My husband and I have been married 36 years and these last year's have had their share of struggles. We had a little extra cash and decided to pop for a vacation to Cancun, Mexico, at a lovely resort there. It was fabulous. When I talked about respite a few posts ago, I only wish everyone could take that kind of break. Sun, sand, surf, food, drinks and entertainment to your hearts content. I did nothing I didn't want to and someone else fixed my meals and made my bed. Everyday. It was awesome. Until we came home...and then there is reality.

After traveling all day, getting home a 1 A.M and not getting enough sleep because I took my brother to the airport the next day at 4 A.M., reality set in. And I had a huge meltdown and pity party. Rather embarrassing, looking back. I was nasty to my husband, angry that I had to serve everyone while I wasn't feeling good. (which I really didn't) I called my daughter and cried that I was tired of caretaking and that the only solutions to that both sucked: putting him in a home or his death. I felt extremely sorry for myself. My daughter may have thought I was nuts, but never said so. She may, in fact, know me by now? She just listened and offered to pray for me and I felt comfort. I did ask God for help, but I admit it didn't look to hard for any answers. I was exhausted and sick and let my emotions run wild. (I'd been sick my whole trip, but sick in Cancun beats the heck outta sick in Ohio!)

And then sanity spoke. Reason once agin made herself known.  It stunk to come back from such a great vacation and back to caretaking, but the one I care for can't even travel anymore. Travel was the one think he loved almost as much as my mom. Here I was whining after a great get away and he will never see far flung places again. Suddenly I was so ashamed of myself for feeling that way. It doesn't happen very often anymore, but this was pretty bad. I really didn't want to "caretake" anymore. A day later, I feel privileged to do this work. And that's real too. One day its awful and you hate it and the next it's not. Emotions are fickle. You have to pay attention to them sometimes, but you also have to know when they are not helpful. They are not my reality. Not my where my strength lies. If I hadn't called my daughter, said these things out loud and heard their selfish hollow whiney sound, I might have entertained them longer. I'm glad I acknowledged them and saw them for what they were. They are legitimate, but held up to the truth they lose their power over me., I don't mean to downplay the burden of caretaking. I know how hard it is. But it's just as hard or harder to be the one cared for. The one for whom life's light is growing dim.It's true that I have a lot on my plate, but I really have learned to turn it over to God in whom I find my strength. It's also true I feel confined, but I also know my dad is really confined and that I still have freedoms and abilities he has been denied-not by his own will-but by his age and diminished capacities. I have chosen this, I still have a choice. And for me this will end and I will again have my freedom. There are many out there for whom caretaking will not end any time soon. 

My focus was wrong. It was on me and the negatives. When I turned my focus off myself and my burdens, and gave thanks to God for the positives, my perspective and attitude changed. I gave thanks for family that helps. I gave thanks that he can still walk and hold a conversation. I gave thanks that we can spend time together, and go out to lunch once in a while. I gave thanks that he has what memories remain and that while I may hear the same stories over and over again, these are his memories and are important to him, and we get to share that with him. I gave thanks that I am in a position to care for him. And the list goes on.  And as I made my list, I felt the dread and sorrow leave. 

I don't want to diminish my feelings or give the impression that this isn't hard and as a friend put it "those feelings are valid and you shouldn't feel bad for feeling that way". They are valid. But the things you feed become the things that grow. Sure it's tough sometimes. But it's been worse, like when he was ill, and right now we really are in a sweet spot and I honestly am feeling pretty lucky overall!! Today. Glad I didn't write this the other day. And in my defense, I had been sick all through my vacation, just traveled 12 hours and hadn't had much sleep. All of which contributed to my little melt down.Exhaustion is a caretakers enemy-even though I'd just had 7 pretty restful days-exhaustion is quick to take a swing at you, and usually levels a pretty good blow.  I later had a little girlfriend time where my friend who is a teacher said she gets a little down when summer ends and she goes back to school.  It's not that she doesn't love her job, but some years are hard and a job is, well, a job. Caretaking is work. And while its important to take a break and get away, sometimes it stinks to come back and at the same time it's good to be home!! That's keeping it real!