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A Gift of Caregiving

Posted on November 29, 2022 by Hal Edghill

In case you have not tried it, writing about caregiving experiences can be very therapeutic. Whether viewing events in life’s rear-view mirror or swimming chest deep in the caregiving experience, writing lays out a lot of the details for the writer to reflect upon.

You will discover some especially cool “a-ha’s” along the way that teach some wonderful lessons that we can learn in no other way. Reflectively looking at events and emotions can provide much needed perspective. You will likely surprise yourself.

Frustration 101

I think that most of us can agree, frustration is one of the most common emotions in caregiving. Frustration with the poor decision-making of our loved ones, frustration with the bureaucracies we engage, and especially frustrations with the critical evaluation of our own actions (i.e., I sure could have done THAT better).

The difference is in how we choose to respond to these frustrations. Such choices are unique to each of us.

We all know that person who finds fault and problems with every situation. Ever feel like you are becoming that person?

Even when we occasionally channel that sort of personality (we all have our moments), why aren’t we always that way ?

I like to think of it as the frustration effect. We share the experience of repeated frustration – one annoying situation after another. Getting angry is the normal reaction and works for the first few occurrences. After a while, however, we start to see that anger doesn’t solve problems. We just end up angry and the situation is unchanged.

As we used to say years ago, “Well duh?”

We hit that fork in the road where we can choose to respond like a child and be angry or we can be courageous and try something different. Letting go of anger is the single best thing we can do and is by far the hardest thing to do. Growing up is not for sissies.

Liberation

Letting go sure gets things done. Letting go takes us places.

When preparing to move Dad into Assisted Living, I ran into that wondrous growth opportunity of transition from the dependent son role to being a parent to my parent.

My struggle with this transition was surprisingly difficult. I didn’t want to leave. I still wanted to be the little boy and be cared for. Stepping out of this dependent character and moving into a character of responsibility, knowing intuitively that there was no going back, was one of those landmark moments in life.

In the same definitive ways that family members respond to the incapacity of loved ones (either they step up or they don’t – there is no in-between), this personal choice is all in or not at all. No negotiated half measures. It just is what it is.

Alternatives

I worked in Social Services many years ago. Tough job. I worked alongside some truly wonderful and courageous people who had been warped by the negativity of a dysfunctional system. They had stayed too long.

Circumstances can change participants in constructive and destructive ways. Even in caregiving, we have some tough choices to make. Resenting having to make the choices does not help. The anger just binds us tighter.

Denial is powerful. Hope springs eternal that there is some magical workaround that will fix things to our liking. Problem is that there really are no cheats available. The Kobayashi Maru only exists in fiction. Reality just offers consequences.

The Hard and the Soft of the Matter

We certainly develop tough shells as caregivers. We must. We make tough decisions and work tough situations every day.

The difference is that we balance this toughness with a deep abiding love for the people we care for. We take the lies, evasions, and often poor decision-making of the ones in our care and put all those issues aside, like any good parent would do.

We are powerful in the knowledge that having chosen the harder road, acceptance instead of anger, we provide the highest quality care. Because when the end comes, and it does come, we finish knowing that it was a good day. We had done our best.

Never underestimate this knowledge of yourself.

Your choices and actions were never wasted. You made a difference.

“I’m not… I’m not without a heart,’ he heard Sophia say, her chin raised, eyes straight ahead. ‘I’m not. I just don’t have the luxury of being soft. I am trying to survive.”
― Alexandra Bracken

Sanity Challenge: Managing Long-Distance Caregiving

Posted on May 30, 2022 by Hal Edghill

In my younger days of competitive bicycling, keeping up with the group was an important part of your survival on two wheels. Lose contact with fellow riders and you lose your support. If I was having a bad day, I remember slowly drifting off the back of the group, lacking the necessary energy to pedal hard enough to keep up. The group would be moving ahead, and I was… not… quite… able… to keep up.

Long-distance caregiving turns out to feel something like that. You see and know what you want to do but the pedal is to the floor and still your objectives are tantalizingly just off in the distance.

As with every caregiving experience, there is much to be learned.

white and brown ceramic vase — Photo by Sohel Patel on Pexels.com

Keeping it Simple

Caregiving provides us any number of lessons in the practicalities of taking care of a loved one but a fair amount of the skills we bring come from being in a family. At some point we learned to help one another and that is what caregiving is all about. If you are new to this life activity, know that you are already prepared with the essentials. The rest is just advanced training.

Long-distance caregiving takes our ideas and concerns and sets them just out of reach. For us control freaks, we learn to temper our desires to direct traffic and be willing to assume the role of coordinator. Not an easy task but one we can learn.

Some ideas/suggestions that may help:

Get used to contracting and delegating work. I know I posted last month about hiring others as a replacement for hands-on care. When the loved one is miles away, this may be the best alternative to spending your life commuting.
Collect as much intelligence as possible. As we do when caregiving in person, information is king. Lacking your own observations, we are now reliant on businesses, doctors, and the reporting of others for data.
Don’t believe every bit of information and don’t expect the full picture. Expect to receive a fair amount of erroneous information. Resist the urge to rush to action over a bit of info that pushes your concern button. Get confirmation when in doubt but don’t panic. From a distance, the best we can hope for is a collection of snippets of information. The full picture only gets built when we are in person.
Talk to people (anybody & everybody) on the ground. If engaging strangers in conversation makes you uneasy, time to get over that luxury. Property managers, gardeners, next door neighbors all have information you need. Move out of your comfort zone and talk with them.
Misperceptions and lies. Taking everything you learn with that proverbial grain of salt is a sound practice here. People report their perceptions, which do not always coincide with physical realities. (Everyone has an opinion.) People will sometimes lie to suit their own comfort. (Yes, your loved ones can lie to you about their circumstances.) Be skeptical and be courageous in verifying.
Think outside the box. We don’t always think of ourselves as being especially creative in devising solutions to problems, but caregivers do it all the time. Taking what we know and putting together a reasonable answer to a multitude of questions is an awesome skill. Enjoy the challenges. You are up to this!
Diplomacy Whether negotiating with a recalcitrant vendor or trying to convince your loved one that driving their car may not be such a great idea right now, we are all diplomats. Knowing when to say something and when to let the other person speak, are vital to getting work done. Leading the loved one to decide to do what you need them to do via telephone takes practice. Don’t expect to get full compliance either. Which leads us to:
Lower your expectations – Let go of 100% success in managing your situation. Compromise is the name of the game. If you got your loved one to take their medication correctly but they still end up wearing their street shoes to bed, it was a good day.

The End of the Day

person face in close up photo — Photo by Chloe Amaya on Pexels.com

When all is said and done, you go to bed exhausted but know that everything you could do, you did, then be kind to yourself. We often lose the care of ourselves in the care of others, but it is important to accept your work.

For us perfectionists, accept that we will never have that 100% day where everything caregiving worked. We are dealing with imperfect people with free wills. The caregiver is not in charge, no matter what your views may be on the matter coming in the door.

Be kind to your loved one. Be kind to businesses whenever appropriate. And be kind to yourself. You are part of this caregiving event, even if individuals are separated by miles. If you don’t have the skills to manage this long-distance situation at the start, you soon will.

Trust yourself.

“Maybe, I thought, it’s not distance that’s the problem, but how you handle it.”
― Rachel Cohn

Reconnecting With Parents: Those Long Looks Back

Posted on October 31, 2021 by Hal Edghill

I once figured that my parents would just become part of my history as I grew older, having learned what I could from them while growing up. It would then be up to me to head out and make my own way in the world.

I was only half right.

Remembering or Pondering?

photo of man in deep thoughts — Photo by Vanessa Garcia on Pexels.com

The connections to those training sessions early in life remain. As a son, I was subjected to any number of conversations about what it means to be a man. Take responsibility. Be nice to your sisters. Eat your broccoli. The usual.

My attitude at the time was along the lines of wondering when the indoctrination session was due to end, so I could go outside and play. I was not a real attentive audience but Mom and Dad had patience.

Now as I write about this all these years later, I am astounded at how so much of those early interactions keep bubbling back to the surface of my awareness. Writing has always been a therapeutic medium for me. A place to solve old problems, remember important lessons, even talk with people who aren’t there anymore. Journaling has always provoked memories and ideas so I can work through unfinished business.

Always exciting to find sources of insight in these very old conversations. Internally walking through the thoughts and having those conversations by proxy. Discovering the excitement of looking at childhood events with now adult eyes.

Getting older is not what I expected.

Then there is the remembering. Those odd little incidents, forgotten for decades, that suddenly come to mind and shed light upon those old relationships.

Remembering the look on my father’s face the first time I exerted some independence by buying a puppy with my savings after he had said no. Or the warm laughter of my mother when she warned me to get into bed correctly or she would pour water in my ear as I lay across the pillow– and did it when I didn’t cooperate!

Moments that resonate with the adult I grew into. Sharp, clear memories that no one of realized were important at the time. Locations, people, buildings, furniture long since changed or gone.

Nothing beats an “a-ha” moment of clarity when you realize that something you have felt regret over for years suddenly comes into focus when you see that the parent involved was far too human and acting as such. They may have just been having a bad day.

I think this is called letting yourself off the hook.

Funny what turned out to really be important in development of character. Funny what things provide comfort now.

Maybe it is connecting with the impermanence that really makes up Life. Reaching a point where more of my living is viewed in the rear-view mirror than through the windshield.

Caught Myself

man and boy standing on bridge — Photo by Agung Pandit Wiguna on Pexels.com

As a Hemingway fan, I have always been enamored of his economy with language. Saying in a phrase what some will do in paragraphs. Beautiful simplicity.

While watching an old movie recently, one of the characters was asked why he was defending his hard-to-love father. The young boy responded simply, “Because he’s my dad.”

I was floored. I had been working through some tough memories of my less-than-perfect father. Trying to resolve my loyalty with the conflicted emotions and this one line of dialogue answered my internal question. I had nothing to feel guilty about because in many ways, I was still just his son.

I wish insights came this easily but I’ve learned that if you leave yourself open to an answer, one may just appear. It’s that letting go business that takes a whole bunch of practice.

Wisdom

woman in gray jacket released balloons in the air — Photo by Anna Baranova on Pexels.com

I am close to people my age that claim to have no recollection of growing up or hold the recently departed so very closely, lest they should lose contact with their memories. I don’t always understand these responses, nor do I wish to. All of them have personal work pending and these are just outward expressions of that unfinished work. Mine is not to know but to be there for them when they need.

Which brings me to a little nugget of wisdom to let people live as they want. No one has the answers, though I suspect many of us possess bits and pieces of them. Allowing everyone to follow their own path appears to be the most enlightened approach.

And the maturing person inside of me suspects that there is far less seriousness in all of these lifetimes of permutations than man-made philosophies have allowed for, if only for all of these incidents that just make me smile.

Once a son of my parents, always that son of my parents.

“The older you get, the closer your loves are to the surface.
― Elizabeth Hay

If We’re Going Back to Normal, Why Is No One Acting Normal?

Posted on September 30, 2021 by Hal Edghill

I’m spending a few days in a conference with a bunch of coworkers. Nice venue in the desert with all of the amenities that I normally would skip but it was touted as the first in-person event since COVID-19 upset everyone’s plans a couple of years ago. A chance to be normal and face-to-face once again.

Count me in.

I get the whole PTSD and victim profiling of ourselves that is popular right now. For those of us not still terrified to go outside, there is a survivor-ship badge that some like to wear around town. For me, the charm of being a survivor wore off years ago. As I processed my first experience of care-giving, I felt special, I felt strong in ways I knew only few people understood. I felt like I had earned some serious self-respect and was going to enjoy it.

Absolutely right.

a fearful woman having claustrophobia in a cardboard box — Photo by MART PRODUCTION on Pexels.com

Being Different

Dad liked to move the whole family to entirely new geography every year or two when I was growing up. Always the new kid in class, I learned to adapt to the uncertainty and anxiety that each of those moves produced. (I pretty much hated every minute of the process too.)

Ever since then, I am able to step into foreign and unknown situations with a certain disregard for the reluctance that all of us normally feel in those circumstances. Care-giving was the ultimate test of that learned response to ambiguity. No map, no light, no idea what I’m doing or where I’m going – no problem.

These are not experiences I seek out but when they do present themselves, I’ve got it covered.

Apparently, not everyone thinks the same way.

Back in the Desert

photo of man standing on desert — Photo by Vlada Karpovich on Pexels.com

Meeting up with a large group of people is always a slightly disconcerting experience, especially for us introverts. At least I’d be an introvert if given half a chance. Life keeps calling on me to step up, so semi-extrovert it is!

Meeting people I’ve only known as small animated boxes on a Zoom display is fun for me. I count the hours of conversation and interaction in the virtual world as legitimate interpersonal interactions. I’ve found that not everyone else does.

Conversations have been polite but with a gnawing distance in the middle. Cliques formed and many seem to be circling the interpersonal wagons for protection. Maybe we’re out of practice and re-learning how to interact with one another in person.

Maybe we’re still just scared.

The sponsor of the conference even provided attendees with color coded dots so that we could indicate to others our comfort with physical proximity and contact. From green meaning we can manage handshakes and hugs with others, to red which indicates to others to keep their distance far, far away. There was a fair amount of red coding present in the crowd, though, encouragingly, there were lots of us in green also.

Guess some of us are ready to re-engage the real world more so than others.

Making Lemonade Again

photography of kid wearing sunglasses — Photo by Cristian Pantoja on Pexels.com

I can’t claim to have been unaffected by the experience of this pandemic. From our personal concerns and anxieties about the infection, to the fears and anxieties instilled in us by our leaders and social media, we have experienced much. We have much to be proud of as warriors in a battle against an enemy that can kill, yet cannot be seen.

We can choose the victim robes to wrap ourselves in, as though perpetuating fear is somehow therapeutic. I understand the inclination to stay in that cocoon of emotion. Fear allows us to feel something when we are not certain what else is out there to feel. Go with what you know, even if it doesn’t get you to where you want to go. I’ll be waiting when you come out.

I’m still not sure where I developed my soldiering-on attitude but it’s what I do. Given some recent conversations with my mom, I suspect I was inoculated with that attitude at a young age. (Thanks, Mom!)

In a similar fashion to taking up the responsibility for my own responses to circumstances, I find myself hoping that any example I can provide in the face of uncertainty for others to see, may help. I’m just trying to make the best of what I’ve got.

It’s the only thing I know to do.

I wanted you to see what real courage is, instead of getting the idea that courage is a man with a gun in his hand. It’s when you know you’re licked before you begin, but you begin anyway and see it through no matter what.
― Harper Lee

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