joining the club

A friend of mine just lost her husband of many years. For the last eight of those years, she was his caregiver as well as his wife. She retired a year or so ago, so I don't see her as much these days, but while she was still working she never seemed stressed out, she never complained, she always had a good attitude, even when work was unpleasant. When I first met my husband and was all googly-eyed with new love, she told me that love is wiping your husband's bottom because he can't. That has really stuck with me, and I hope that if and when my husband needs that kind of help that I can be as gracious as she was, and that in the meantime I can express my love in practical ways as well as verbally.

I have noticed a kinship among those who provide care for an unwell loved one. Nobody wants to join this club, and membership comes with a lot of dues. There is a shifting of priorities and an adjustment of expectations, whether it is a spouse or a child or a parent. Those who have not yet experienced this shift may not fully understand this alteration of one's life view, but I think most people eventually find themselves in this position. Your future suddenly looks very different from what you expected, and you are forced to pare your life down to the bare essentials. You find yourself learning to be less selfish, making decisions for the good of your loved one, not for yourself. You find out what is really important to you, not what would be nice to have, but what you can't live without. You discover your limits, and sometimes you discover that your limits can be stretched, and sometimes they cannot. You learn to take pleasure in the mundane, to be grateful for small blessings. You learn your faults. You struggle to find your way out of panic into acceptance and normalcy. You learn more about your faults, and try to accept them and move on.

There are other clubs that one joins when membership expires in this one. There's the widows' and widowers' club, the orphans' club and the grieving parents' club. Frankly, I'm hoping my membership is in good standing in the caregivers club for a long time.

Old

I just had a birthday the other day, and I find myself feeling different about this one. I haven't really minded getting older as I advanced further into adulthood, but now that I'm 38, I have slid into the category of "old crone", as my beloved husband would say. (I feel grateful to him that I'm not an "old maid", at least.) I feel a distinct barrier between myself and those younger than I am. Perhaps those of you who are older than me have no sympathy--I know that I'm not really OLD old, but I am definitely in a different category than those young single girls who live in apartments and buy new cars. I'm halfway to 76!! I'm twice as old as a 19-year-old!! I could have a legal adult for a child if I'd begun procreating earlier! I'm way outside the desirable demographic for advertisers! I'm almost 40! I'm beginning to understand those women who say they are 39 when they are in their 60's. Ugh!

Journey

I recently made a trip to visit my paternal grandparents in Chicagoland--the grandparents who have so generously given so that Grace's gym could be completed. They are in their eighties, and have spent their lives very industriously and frugally. They have been on many bicycle trips, including one with me in England about eight years ago. My Grandpa's frequent answer to the question "how are you?" is "If I felt any better I wouldn't be able to stand it!" Therefore, it is hard to see this same Grandpa moving slowly, taking naps, being unhappy about his health problems, which seem to have multiplied recently. I remember the family reunion in Hawaii in 1991 when Grandpa would walk past all of our cabins at 6:30 AM, cheerfully announcing that it was time to get up. I was a college student at the time, and never saw that time of day, and was always annoyed, but I would give a lot to be able to hear Grandpa with that much energy again.

The trip was enjoyable otherwise--I love talking to my grandparents, learning about their lives and childhoods. My Grandpa talked about his father's alcoholism, his best friends since childhood, all the places he lived in Chicago. Grandma tends to be less talkative about herself, but her skills as a homemaker are unparalleled. In her words, she knows how to make "something from nothing". She grew up on a farm in Iowa during the depression, and those experiences stood her well raising seven kids--she never wastes anything. She always seems very organized and calm, energetic, but never hurried. I really admire her.

I also got a chance to go to the Ikea in Schaumburg. There was one in Plymouth Meeting near where I grew up, and I furnished my early apartments with their inexpensive but well-designed furniture, and still actually have a number of those items. I found a treasure trove of sensory stuff for Grace there, including a few swings and a placemat that is a vinyl mirror on one side. I was itching to buy a ton of other stuff, but my better judgment kept my purchases under $30.

I also visited an exhibit on Hal Foster at the Schaumburg library . Foster was the creator of Prince Valiant, and I have been enjoying collecting these stories, so I thought it might be fun to see this exhibit. Unfortunately, all of the art displayed were what appeared to be blurry, laminated photocopies of his original drawings. In addition, about 1/3 of the exhibit was hung immediately behind computer tables, all of which were occupied, so that I couldn't actually get close enough to see the art. However, they did have wifi, so I was able to check my email and browse the internet on my iPod touch (which I can't live without).

On my way home from Chicago, I was able to stop and visit some friends I hadn't seen in a while, and that was a lot of fun. Their kids are adorable, and they live in a great old house in a tiny town--kind of idyllic. It was really fun to talk with them and revive a friendship that had gotten a little dusty since Grace was born. A lot of my friendships have gone this path in the chaos of dealing with Grace's needs, but I need to make friendships a priority, to give and receive support, to expand my own horizons and take care of myself so that I can take care of my family.