It's the Quiet Ones

                I’ve come to realize that Caregivers come in all shapes, flavors, and sizes. Some start with the pills and bills and go from there, whereas others, cannonball into the Caregiver pool and take full-on support of their loved ones. The interesting observation is that, the ones that do the little things talk about what they do a whole lot more than the ones that do everything and remain quiet. It’s the Quiet Caregivers that seem to do the most.

                I remember someone telling me how they take care of their mother-in-law and I asked about what it is they do. (I am always looking for tips!) I was told the family goes over once per week for dinner. Oh, so you visit her? That was my response. I don’t know how someone makes the leap from a weekly dinner to “we take care of a person.” I thought this was an isolated communication, but it wasn’t.

                Recently, a friend shared a story that a family member told her they were taking care of their aunt. “Taking care” to this person meant writing three checks a month for her bills. I guess she had no sense that she was talking to my friend who cared for her parents, and quite literally did everything for them. My friend is lovely and she suggested to this person to not talk about “taking care of their aunt.” When my friend told me the story, she said, “Can you imagine? She was bragging! Look at me, I am a Caregiver, over writing three checks a month!”

                Personally, I didn’t talk much about what I did for Gramps. For one, it was overwhelming. I kept a notebook at that time and it’s filled with long “things to do lists.” I can’t even look at it now, and can’t imagine how I made it through all of it. The second thing is that I didn’t feel like it was anyone’s business and I didn’t want to in anyway embarrass Gramps. I think on some level he knew what was being done for him, but it wasn’t discussed. I didn’t want him to feel like a burden and, frankly, I knew the family wouldn’t get it. The few times I mentioned some things they were not supportive. (this is putting it politically correct!). I got to a place where I didn’t want to talk about what I did as a Caregiver. I felt sharing things with friends was another way I became more different from them – it just wasn’t good. When I did get invited for dinner or something I knew I couldn’t do, I would simply say, “Sorry. I am not available.” It was better than explaining I had to get home to help Gramps. People didn’t understand, and I got to that place where it was okay, they didn’t have to understand.

                Another part to this is a category I call “the unspeakables.” They are as they sound. The things we all know we do for our loved one as their health deteriorates. “Stuff happens” and lets leave it at that – the “unspeakables.” Caregivers only get on-the-job training. Most of us (and I know there are exceptions) have no clinical background and nothing prepares you for the unspeakables, you just deal with it, and try to do it in a dignified way for both you and your loved one. It’s delicate to be sure. The pills and bills and the dinner Caregivers don’t deal with the unspeakables. Not all Caregivers are alike. So today, I salute the Quiet Caregivers everywhere.