Who Take Care of the Caretaker-Pt. 4

Disclaimer: you may need that comfortable chair and cup of coffee because this one is long! I could have broken it down into a few shorter posts, but I think I would lose the flow, so I just went with it. It might be a little disjointed anyway and might be a little choppy, but here is more of how I took care of myself mentally.

I think we’ve established that caretaking isn’t easy! And I hope I’ve made it clear that that stress of caretaking will eventually catch up to you if you aren’t careful and guard yourself physically, mentally and spiritually. The mental/emotional side was where we all had issues. I really didn’t think caretaking was going to be so hard on me emotionally. I don’t think I was being naïve. I knew it would be hard. I just didn’t think it would be as hard as it was for as long as it was. I knew in the beginning it would be rough until we all adjusted, but I didn’t anticipate that dad wouldn’t adjust. And he was not adjusting. I underestimated my own limits, but I really underestimated his. Given everything he’d been through in his lifetime, all the moves and upheaval, I really didn’t expect this move to be so hard for him. He’s moved and adapted so many times. He had been through so much and always snapped back. Why was this adjustment taking so long? Wasn’t he the first to tell me to “buck up”? You don’t “buck up” from this!

Looking back I understand that that kind of upheaval for an elderly person is monumental. Now I also understand that he considered this his last move. And whether anyone wants to admit this or not, that “last” move is the one you make before you die. (I will write a little more about that after this series is done) There was so much wrapped up in this move and add to that that he was still grieving my mother and the life they had together. He was alone now. He hadn’t been alone in 64 years. Not that kind of alone. Oh, he’d spent plenty of time alone in the military, but there was always the reunion when we joined him or the homecoming when he returned. His next reunion with mom would not be until he left this earth. Yes, this was a hard move for an old man who had the world by the tail for the better part of 88 years!   

And Dad was just not in a good place. I know now that it wouldn’t have mattered what I did or how I did it, he just would not have gone down this path without kicking and screaming. I expected the kicking and screaming knowing dad. I didn’t expect to watch him suffer so emotionally. Watching while trying unsuccessfully to help him break free of it took a huge toll on me. He was clearly depressed, but it didn’t seem to matter what I did, he just couldn’t snap out of it. (more on this later) But since this series is about the caretaker I want to talk about how his sadness took me down my own dark path.

It’s not uncommon. Watching someone you love suffer will affect you. These times were also good for me in ways I will always cherish. But just because I had my plate full with dad didn’t mean life would stop throwing other problems my way! It did and life became very complicated. Then one day—bam—I knew I was in trouble. It’s not a good sign when you just don’t want to get out of bed. I was feeling this incredibly heavy heart and a sadness that I couldn’t shake. I knew God was in this (more about that next post) and I knew I was doing the right thing, but I also could see I needed help. Knowing when you need to get outside yourself and get some help is healthy!

The first thing I did for my own mental health was admit my own weakness. Dad taught us to be strong. I’ve never considered myself strong, so why this need to be strong kicked in now is a mystery. J But I had this sense of responsibility to dad. Maybe because I could see how broken he was. But letting go of my need to fix the world for him and admitting to those around me that I was failing miserably, was freeing. By this time it was clear that something had to change. I asked two of my closest friends (I hope you know who you are!) and my small group for prayer, that God would give me strength to finish what I had started. Of course, that was the turning point. (We are not made to journey these passages alone!) It wasn’t that I wasn’t in prayer constantly myself, (and these were rich times spiritually) but for some reason I felt failure. And I did. Fail. Miserably. I still do. Daily. But I understand with new eyes now that God is strongest in our weakness. And so now, that’s where I stand. Right smack in the middle of my weakness. With my eyes up asking for strength!

After asking God for direction I decided to see a counselor to help me work through some of my own issues. I knew I was in a bad place and I knew if I didn’t come up for air I wasn’t going to be able to take care of dad well. I didn’t want that for dad, or for myself so I sought some help. Essentially I was in grief counseling. It never occurred to me that I was grieving too. Duh. (like I said, not the sharpest tool in the shed!) But just understanding that and walking through it with a mental health professional was key for me. I was able to sort through the conflicting emotions, the guilt and grief that I don’t think I really understood I was even feeling because of all the other issues clouding the view. It was just a really good decision for me. I felt better as soon as I started and it really helped me see that I did have the strength to finish this. It did not change dad, it changed me. But it helped me to care for him by giving me a way to process the grief so I could then be there for my dad in his. 

Another thing that really helped was the Alzheimer’s Association. Most people, if they live long enough, will develop some form of dementia. And there are resources out there to help you understand it. The support groups are very helpful. I attended only one, but it was eye opening. I wish I could have gone to more and may do so in the future, but this organization is a huge resource for those dealing with this aspect of elder care. They have classes and seminars and are just so very helpful as you sort through all the issues that surround any form of dementia. Just understanding how to deal with someone who isn’t rational anymore—or even learning to recognize it—was worth the time.

Looking back, I would have done so very much differently--but you just don’t get that option. Its uncharted territory everyone’s path is different. It’s like walking on a muddy path in a storm. You just wade through the muck and hope your feet find some solid ground now and then. It’s slippery and you’re not sure where the path is. You think you have to keep moving or you will get stuck in the muck and lose any momentum you may have had. Dad was stuck and couldn’t/wouldn’t move forward. He needed me to help him. Not to lead him. Not to push or pull him forward. He didn’t need me to do anything but just walk beside him. Like mom would have done. (Like so many did with me) He was and still is without her, but he needed to know that though he had to walk this path, he didn’t have to walk it alone.

This time with dad before he goes to see his maker and my mom has been sacred. I would go through the depression all over again to come out on this side of the pain. Getting the privilege of getting to know him in such a deep way has been priceless. Beneath the Alzheimer’s is, I believe, his basic personality and his truth. The good, the bad and the ugly. And knowing my dad, he’d love the reference to a Clint Eastwood movie because in those movies Clint is always such a tough guy. Dads a tough guy too. You don’t make it through all he’s been through if you aren’t. But all of us have a soft underbelly! For him I believe it was losing my mom. Having her at his side all those years was what gave him that strength. Because he'd always been so resilient I don't think I understood the depth of that loss. How do you get over that?  I don’t think you ever do. But thankfully, we have moved forward enough that the worst of the storm has past. We still have the occasional rain shower, but the path is less treacherous. It still leads to the same place, but I hope that by doing a good job of caretaking my dad knows he’s not walking it alone. 

The lesson for me here has been that grief is a process. It takes time. But there is help. It comes in many forms, but there is help if you can admit you need it. Another lesson is that depression skews your view. Life becomes a dark empty mess. It makes people withdraw from others and them from you! No one wants to be around a perpetually depressed person. I was really having a hard time being around dad! I'm sure others had a hard time being around me. And there is help for that as well. It may look different for others than it did for me, but the important thing is to get the help you need. 

And last, and maybe most important, we were not made to walk these passages alone. Seek support from others and from God. This was pivotal and next post I will touch on the spiritual side of this journey. Through it all both dad and I knew we were never really alone!