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    Angela Lunde

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  • Housecall
  • Alzheimer's caregiving
  • Living with cancer
  • Alzheimer's blog

  • Jan. 6, 2009

    Caregivers provide perspective on life

    By Angela Lunde

35 comments posted

As we settle in to the New Year, many of us reflect on the blessings we have in our lives. Inevitably, I think of family and friends — abundant in the ways they fill my life. This year, I am also thinking of the blessings I receive from the men and women who share with me their caregiving journey.

My monthly meetings with caregivers take place at a beautiful Italian Romanesque building on 100 acres atop a hill. At our last meeting, the weather outdoors was cold and a winter storm was looming. As was typical for our meetings, we had a mix of men and women; some brand new, others long-time participants.

I sat back and listened as stories were shared and advice was gently offered. I observed the ways in which group members cared for one another, and I thought about the wisdom around that table and how these men and women have enriched me over this past year.

Caregivers continually remind me of the importance of living life simply and the value of finding joy in small blessings and ordinary victories. They reveal that it is important and necessary to reach out to others when life gets difficult even though the desire to isolate ourselves can be intense. Caregivers bestow on me the perspective I need to cope with my own disappointments and challenges.

As a parent, I can get aggravated by the fact that my son hasn't done what I've asked him to do once or twice (or more) already, or I become annoyed at my daughter who "borrows" my things or gives me "that look." As a wife, I become upset when my husband can't simply know what I need or figure out why I feel the way I do. But still, in the face of these challenges, I am somehow reminded that this is as it should be.

As I sit around the table with caregivers or read the comments and stories on this blog, I realize that here is a group of people doing something that isn't as it should be.

You are engaged each day in an extraordinary challenge with no time off. Yet, as undeserving as it may be, you have found a way. I am humbled in these moments of clarity. These are the moments when I look outside myself and my own life and recognize that the issues and needs of others are far greater than my own at this time. This clarity and perspective is a gift — a gift I believe that makes me a better wife, parent and friend to those in my life.

I will conclude my first posting for 2009 with these beautiful words posted on this blog Dec. 9 by Lisa.

"It (caregiving) is a lonely, thankless, tiring, sad, never ending job but I see my face in his and pray someone will be kind to me too when the time comes." — Lisa

35 comments posted

blog index
  • January 7, 2009 6:09 p.m.

    My husband of nearly 45 years was diagnosed with dementia March 2008. He aleady was legally blind, very hard of hearing, had type 2 diabetes, and a suprapubic tube for urinary incontience, and fecalintinence. When it happened, I cried for three days.Now he is on Aricept and Namenda, and on a plateau. I don,t leave him alone too long. My weight has gone up; ice cream is a comfort. Sometimes it feels as though we are going to Wonderland. He tires very easily and I have my ups and downs. I read to him and we watch Turner Classic Movie Channel and we play CDs , our son-in-law gave us a DVD player for Christmas, so that's something else to do. His balance is getting worse and he has fallen several times, so we are both careful about that. Well, I have gone on and on, this is the first time I have ever posted anything on a blog-of any sort. Thank you for having the space. Most go now.

    - Emily

  • January 7, 2009 5:53 p.m.

    My mother has Alzheimer and is living in her home. I was picking her up for a day at the Adult Day Program and mentioned that another relative had dementia.She replyed by saying that she was sorry. I then said that she too had dementia. She replied that it can be a blessing to not remember things and that her life was just fine. I felt good about that. I was able to turn my caregiving into a positive and know that we are all just doing our best.

    - claire hawrys

  • January 7, 2009 1:12 p.m.

    My father has Alzheimer's, my mom and I have hired a day nurse, in hopes of prolonging the time he will have to go to a nursing home. My heart goes out to everyone dealing with this heartbreaking disease. A friend of mine once told me "take one moment at a time, don't think of how you remember him to be or how you want him to be, but accept him for how he is at the moment (good or bad).

    - Carla

  • January 7, 2009 6:38 a.m.

    I work in a beautiful home for Alzheimer residents and feel blessed everyday I walk through the doors and grateful for the families who have entrusted me to care for their parents. I feel like I have 25 grandparents!!! Every day I am thanked and I have never felt so appreciated and respected in a job. One of my "grandparents" recently said to me, "we'll never forget each other." I will never forget her or that moment.

    - marissabaxter@yahoo.com

  • January 6, 2009 11:28 p.m.

    this is all new to me and I thank you for your comments. I can see how a group can be so helpful and I need that.

    - nbpackham@msn.com

  • January 6, 2009 9:11 p.m.

    I couldn't help but respond to the two poignant thoughts that occurred in this blog: one from Lisa as specified above, and Barbara's (january 6)"Who we really are is what we are when no one else is looking or applauding"... I am always in awe of people who can so quietly offer themselves silently...so softly and gently that you aren't aware of their heart-felt and sincere giving. And yet in contrast, are those who can't stop "talking" about how much they do and how exhausted they are.. Caregiving is tough, and made even more difficult if the person one is caring for is trying to hold onto life with every breath by being argumentative and critical and ornery and vindictive. And even though the prick or stab of action or words can be hurtful, we always seem to catch and remind ourselves how difficult it must be for the person with Alzheimer's...locked into a skewed reality and losing control over what was at one time, so crystal clear and tangible... To all caregivers reading...a peaceful and strong New Year....

    - Leslie

  • January 6, 2009 6:38 p.m.

    I am in my 12th month of caring for and living with my Mom, who has Alzheimers. She has slipped further away from me during the year, but I cherish every day that I have left with her. I understand that at some point, I will need to hire help, but I see this as something still far off. Right now, I can relate to what you said about the tendency to isolate. I wonder why that is? Occasionally, someone will take her out for lunch or breakfast and I just take that opportunity to jump into bed and pull the covers up until they return. Thank you for your beautiful post and your lovely words. I may come back to comment again.

    - Anne

  • January 6, 2009 5:01 p.m.

    What beautiful observations that we can all take to heart in our everyday lives and as we care for our loved ones. It makes me feel sad and understood at the same time. My family is just beginning to make this journey with my dad and I look to your column for guidance and solace. Thank you for providing both.

    - Rosemary

  • January 6, 2009 2:09 p.m.

    My Mom had Alzheimer's for 13 years and uterine cancer for 3 years. Determined never to put her in a nursing home, I took care of her in my home. My husband was very supportive, but we became a threesome for those exhausting years. I walked holding her hand, and my husband walked beside us or behind us. My life was devoted to making my Mom comfortable, safe and happy. I have no regrets; I would do it all over again. The purity of sacrifice, the knowledge that you put others before yourself, the challenge of following the illness and adjusting the daily changes, the energy it takes to endure with love and a smile, and the gratification of anticipation the needs of someone incapable of caring for themselves, is the closes we ever become to touching G-D in this life. Who we really are is what we are when no one else is looking or applauding.

    - Barbara

  • January 6, 2009 11:50 a.m.

    thank you for this informative post.

    - ann farrell

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