by Judy Alter
Much is written about the hardships and dedication of caregivers, and I am the first to applaud them. Been there, done that with my mother who slid into dementia in her eighties, and I don’t feel I did it as gracefully or kindly as I should have. But now my daughter is my caregiver, and I thought it time to share the other side of the story, along with some of what I’ve learned, I hope, about being a gracious recipient of care.
About a year ago the pain in my left hip got to the point that I rarely walked. I lived on a Rollator, a walker with a seat and wheels, I had hip revision surgery. My hip had been deteriorating for years and had a severe deformity.
I was unable to care for myself, and the burden fell on Jordan, my youngest daughter. By the time of my surgery, I was living in a cottage behind my house, and Jordan, her husband and son were and are living in the house..
I was selfish and demanding. When you’re deep into pain, it’s hard to think about much besides yourself. I greeted her with a list of needs and wants, until she gently (well, usually) suggested that I let her sit a minute before hitting her with a list.
I’ve learned to remember I am not her only responsibility. She has a husband, a child, a career. I learned not to be critical when she came home from the store with the wrong items. And I learned that sometimes she is tired and needs comfort as much as I do.
I try to give as much as I take, to make her family glad that I’m close. A cheerful attitude requires growing beyond self-pity. I’m happy when I’m included in restaurant plans and parties, but I respect that they need some time to be a family. And I’ve learned to treasure my solitude (in reasonable doses).
These days I’m about 75% self-sufficient. I tend to my personal needs, cook my meals, dress myself, and work at my desk, keeping my writing career alive. I entertain, often for a happy hour with heavy hors d’oevres, though Jordan fixes a mean antipasto platter a lot, and I dine out with friends who are good enough to fetch me. I cannot walk unassisted, nor can I drive.
As Jordan said, we have become more like roommates than mother and daughter. But we have worked hard at it and had some spectacular squabbles along the way. For instance, we enjoy our shared shopping trips, as long as my list isn’t too long and her time not too short. Stars shine in her crown. I’m grateful for the love and continuing care of all my children, but Jordan is a rare gift.
An award-winning novelist, Judy Alter is the author of several fictional biographies of women of the American West and now has turned her attention to the late nineteenth century in her home town, Chicago, to tell the story of the lives of Potter and Cissy Palmer, a high society couple with differing views on philanthropy and workers’ right. She blogs at http://judys-stew.blogspot.ca/