Caregiving

I have been reminded once again what a special person a caregiver is. And I have also been reminded that’s not my calling.



My mother-in-law is fortunate to have a very special Jamaican woman Lena to take care of her when family can’t be there. She is paid to do a job, but it’s not easy and not something everyone could handle day in and day out. She is patient and loving, vacillating between reminding her that she’s hot because of menopausal hot flashes (from some 40 years ago) and wiping her face after she eats.



Lena makes sure she gets outside to walk (be pushed) and sit in the sun on a beautiful day like today. She tells her she’s sexy with the new clip-on sunglasses we bought at Walgreens.



And most importantly Lena is there to prod her memory cells to fire just one more time when she forgets that her granddaughter is married, by showing her photos of the wedding. She suggested that we send current pictures of our family for the same purpose.

I’m so glad there are people like Lena willing to do this job. I’m also glad I didn’t have to see my parents suffer long in old age or lose their memory. I really fail miserably at knowing what to say or how to act with people whose minds are slipping.



My mother-in-law, who is the consummate consumer of weather information, is still keen enough to remark that we must have brought the good weather with us. I hope for her sake the blue skies continue for a while, but the most she will ever remember is the color of the sky just as she observes it. The skies of yesterday are mixed up in that blur of 94 years of memories that are just beyond her reach.