It was 21 years ago this month when I knocked on the heavy oak door of my father’s home in Milwaukee. My visit was in response to his case worker’s call: Your father is a potential safety risk. He may be removed from his home for a 72-hour psychiatric evaluation.
A week earlier, we had celebrated our birthdays by phone. I was born on my father’s 49 th birthday. He was a bachelor for over 40 years before marrying and then starting a family at age 41.
I was concerned he would be traumatized if officials removed him from his home. I assured the case worker I’d fly out to try and handle the situation if she was willing to guide me. She agreed.
I traversed the country while working as a corporate leadership consultant. Yet, I was about to enter unknown territory in my childhood home. After enjoying a lucrative field — I was en route to a secure and early retirement — my career was diverted. Filial responsibility took hold when I realized I could not effectively care for my father and consult, simultaneously.
[See: 14 Ways Caregivers Can Care for Themselves.]
At some risk to my father’s welfare, my husband and I agreed to move him from his familiar surroundings of 45 years to our California home. This marked the beginning of a lonely, clueless journey along the thankless road of caregiving.
My father knew something was wrong but he didn’t have a label to describe it. He was forgetful and felt useless. Back then, it didn’t matter, because the word Alzheimer’s didn’t clarify the full extent of what was ahead.
Fortunately, I inherited my father’s curiosity. I asked a lot of questions — sometimes, an annoying number of questions. After all, asking questions is the hallmark of a good consultant. I learned about Alzheimer’s — the leading cause of dementia — and caregiving.
Months after my father was living with my husband and me, I came to terms with my new role in life: caregiver.
I Am a Caregiver
When we accept our role as caregivers, we’re in a better position to proactively pursue our options. After days and nights of keeping up with a disoriented wanderer who couldn’t discern between night and day, I took a serious look at my role and my life. And then I reached out to learn more about what to expect when caring for a person with dementia.
Fortunately, a dear friend and caregiver to her father introduced me to adult day care. Once I took this step, I learned about caregiver support groups. After resisting and then agreeing to attend, my knowledge snowballed. From there, I reached out to the experts, attended conferences and learned from other caregivers which care options were best for my father at the time. Beyond all this lies a sometimes thankless job where a confused care recipient doesn’t know what’s happening to him, is afraid and fights back.
[See: 14 Ways to Protect Seniors From Falls.]
Finding Meaning in Caregiving
How does one find meaning in an otherwise thankless job along an uncertain path heading into stress-filled territory? In other words, how does a caregiver find meaning?
Caring for another who can’t live independently provides caregivers meaning in two ways:
1. Opportunities to create new social circles One of the frequently cited downsides to caregiving is losing relationships. People you thought were your friends, and in some cases, family, no longer call or visit. It’s hard to make sense of caregivers’ lives unless you have also been a caregiver. For example, many find themselves at a loss for words when a person with dementia says something inappropriate. Even new caregivers find they need a little help when they can’t communicate with or understand their loved one.
As caregivers shed old friends, new ones fill the void to help with what it means to care for another human being. Caregivers are an awesome second family. When you struggle, caregivers will have your back. They’ll even laugh at the sickest caregiving jokes. Although it’s scary to lose family and friends, the unconditional support of fellow caregivers is uplifting and truly exhilarating. These relationships are unlike any other.
[See: 11 Simple, Proven Ways to Optimize Your Mental Health.]
2. Feeling needed with a renewed purpose. Not everyone is cut out to care for another human being. It requires patience, nurturing and selflessness as your focus shifts to the care recipient. In our relatively self-occupied culture, it takes a very special person to step up to caregiving. On the easy end of the continuum, caregivers provide companionship. On the other, the need for hands-on help with feeding, toileting, transferring and bathing grows exhausting.
Yet, when one genuinely needs our help and we are able to give it, we feel enriched by serving. Over time, we become the anchor or the rock in someone else’s life. We balance the richness of our feelings with the challenges of caregiving. Where they are weak, we are strong. Where they are fearful, we face each day with courage. Where they try to make sense of their world, we provide comfort.
It has been said: To the world you may be one person. But to one person you are the world.
Who can’t be excited about that?
More from U.S. News
The Best Ways for Nursing Home Residents to Stay Active
13 Things Your Nurse Wishes You Knew
10 Options to Consider Besides a Nursing Home
How One Caregiver Found Meaning After Letting Go of a Lucrative Career originally appeared on usnews.com
