Sometimes we find ourselves complaining about our life circumstances. You’d think at my advanced age I wouldn’t do that, but there it is.
I was thinking the other day about being the one child out of my parents’ four who had the job of navigating their dying with them. Harsh? No, reality. There were four of us. Two passed away in the ‘80’s, which left my older brother and I. But he lives on the east coast, and I live in our PNW hometown, as did our parents.
When I was actually in the throes of caring for them, I didn’t think too much about it. It was just a job that had to be done.
But after they were both gone—Mom in 2016 and Dad this year in January—it’s like I started feeling sorry for myself that I couldn’t have shared that “burden” with anyone else.
After remonstrating with myself for a few months—telling myself to stop being such a whiner—I experienced a profound shift in heart and mind.
That shift is called “gratitude”. It made me realize the stupendous, breathtaking privilege I had been given—to take care of the ones who’d cared for me my whole life.
And then, life turned the tables on me. I got to help usher them into their next life. And there was time, time, and more time to say my thank-yous and my good-byes and see ya later to them. What a gift!
How about you? What—right here, right now—is the most cherished privilege you’ve been given? And how will you communicate that to those around you?
Comments most welcome…
I was in a “keeping company “ relationship for 26 years. We never married because he was 12 years older and he didn’t want me to have to take care of him if he got sick. It was probably a good thing because I never would’ve written 20 books if we had.
Then he went into hospice care after falling and he came to my house for the last month of his life. It wasn’t easy but I wouldn’t take anything for the privilege of being with him that month and also being with his daughter during that time.
What a lovely, lovely story, Patricia!
I’m so glad for you, that you were able to care for your friend, and for the memories of that time you must have.
Have a great weekend, my friend…
First of all, condolences. Losing our parents isn’t easy, whether it is recent or has been a while. And care-giving for someone is a very difficult task even though we love and want to help our loved ones.
I’ve been blessed in ways too numerous to mention but keeping in the theme of parents, I was super-blessed to have wonderful parents. My mom was a stay at home mom. My dad worked 2 jobs to keep us going. My dad was my hero (the strong and silent type). My mom & I butted heads occasionally but of course she was the one who had the task of being the disciplinarian most of the time.
I always felt bad for my parents — as a kid I had very bad asthma and can’t count the number of times they had to rush me to the ER for asthma attacks. Thankfully my Dad was in the military so was insured through them. I shudder to think what they would have had to pay if they only had the typical types of insurance plans we have today with the high costs of ER visits. We probably would’ve been living on the street!
And even though I don’t recall seeing my parents read much (I realize now they didn’t have time, raising 5 kids! LOL!) my parents bought me tons of books from a young age. Needless to say, all those books had a very powerful impact on me.
Thanks for starting us off with, in effect, a Gratitude Friday! We have indeed been privileged and blessed in many ways.
Hi Brenda!
My parents were wonderful also. They married at age 19 and 15 and were together for 40+ years. They both worked, sometimes 2 and 3 jobs to keep the household afloat, but we never felt neglected. On weekends (when Dad wasn’t working) they’d pile all of us in the car and just drive out of town, up in the woods, or to another nearby town for lunch. The best memories ever.
Thanks for sharing your gratitude story!
My dad died when I was much younger, and all the sane siblings were right there with Mom and me. I lived with Mom during her final years so I had both the pleasure, frustration, and pain of that. The siblings had their own lives and kids so they had both the freedom and pain of knowing I was on the front lines of the Mom aging health wars. They showed up with needed.
Hi Marilyn…
“…both the pleasure, frustration, and pain of that.” I hear you. Mom lived with us for a year and half, until the dementia got to the point where we couldn’t cope. Interesting experience.
Have a great weekend!
I can’t think of a similar experience, Deb. Just wanted to say I am in awe of your being able to navigate such an emotional shift. You can live your life in a neutral — or even backward — gear or you can move forward. Resiliency is quite underrated.
Mornin’ Kristy!
Believe me, I’ve geared backward plenty of times in my life. Like you imply, moving forward is much the better. I’ve realized, though, that when I move forward I’d better tightly pack those learned lessons and pull them out when I need them. Because there’s always another unexpected (unwanted?) experience waiting ’round the bend.
Thanks for stopping by!
A Jewish friend once told me the greatest mitzvah one can do is to give someone a “good death.”
I’ve been present for deaths of five family members and close friends, one beloved cat and five beloved dogs. My husband and I cared for several full-time in our home, others part-time in other settings.
Sometimes I’d get angry when family or supposed friends showed up to interfere, question, or criticize us. But at the end, they weren’t there and I was.
It’s a hard privilege but it is a privilege.
Good Friday morning, Debbie…
“Good death”…that bears thinking about. Your Jewish friend is very wise.
I always knew that I had the complete support of other family members, which was/is part of the blessing I enjoyed.
Have a good weekend!
I am sorry for your loss. My mother died about 14 months ago, although she had Alzheimer’s and really died about five years ago, it just took a while for her body to catch up. My father has been dead for 25 years now. He died of a heart attack. The difference from the time on the 911 call and the death certificate is 59 minutes. He never met my children. Sometimes it feels like so long ago, sometimes like yesterday. He would of loved being grandpa. Now my children see some of his lasting works.
My greatest privilege is being daddy. It is the best, hardest job I have ever had and I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I was with some of my college buddies. We talked about parenthood. Those many years ago, sitting around having too many beers, being a parent was the furthest thing from our minds. Now, the first thing we do is bring out pictures of our kids.
Hi Alan!
It does my heart good to hear My greatest privilege is being daddy. Not enough of that going around these days. Your children will have some awesome memories to carry them through life.
Now, the first thing we do is bring out pictures of our kids.
Perfect!!
Have a good one, my friend!
I’m caring for my husband who suffered a stroke three months ago. It isn’t easy, but it is an honor and privilege to serve Frank in his illness.
Frank and I have spent a significant amount of time in these months praising God for all He’s given to us in this life. Even in sorrow, our hearts are full of gratitude.
Hi Kay…
Somehow I knew you’d say that this morning.
From some of the comments this morning, including yours, I’m glimmering (I just made that up…) with the notion that the single most important life privilege is caring for one another. If we don’t do that, what’s the point?
My prayers are with you, my friend.
My own mother was born with a congenital heart defect which required experimental surgery to correct back in the 1950s when she was a teen.. The doctor had told her she wouldn’t be able to have children otherwise, and she definitely wanted kids.
She went on to have four, with me being the oldest. She was a loving mother who shared her passion for reading with me and got me hooked. She also encouraged my writing and bought me a Smith-Corona electric typewriter in 1982 as a gift.
She had contracted measles as a girl before the vaccine existed and suffered profound hearing loss, but was a skilled lip reader, and always knew what we were up to 🙂
When she was 49 she suffered an aneurysm and spent the last two years of her life battling back, re-learning how to speak and how to use her left hand, since her right arm was withered from the aneurysm. She lived her life to the fullest and cared deeply for others. She passed at 51.
Hi Dale!
What a profound legacy of strength and determination your Mom left you and your siblings. What a woman!
I like to say, especially when a story like yours comes my way, that death just means our loved ones move from earth’s sod straight into our hearts, where they stay forever.
Thanks for stopping by, and for acquainting us with your Mom.
🥰
Taking care of my husband, who has a rare nerve disease and is losing his ability to walk. We have been married 55 years, but in these last few year, I’ve come to admire his courage and good humor. Don took good care of me12 years ago, when I was recovering from a series of strokes. We are thrive because of each other.
“We thrive because of each other.”
Beautiful way to say “gratitude”, Elaine. You encourage me to aim higher in this game called life.
Reminding myself daily that it’s not all about me, myself, and I is key to hitting that bullseye.
Thanks for stopping in and sharing!
🤗🤗
Just asking…
How many of you have been so encouraged by these responses?
I have!
Thank you… 🤓🤓