Another Adventure Awaits

I’ve been thinking a lot about caregiving recently. It’s something that I feel like I have been doing in one way or another for as long as I can remember, and it’s given me a great sense of purpose my whole life.

In the simplest sense, I started early with caregiving. Growing up, I took great care of many things. My room was always in pristine order. My Barbies and dolls were dressed impeccably with perfectly coiffed hair. My knickknacks and mementos were always kept hidden away for safe keeping. I grew up with a clear understanding that when you took care of something it would last a long time; you showed your love and pride for something when you cared for it.

I feel like I naturally learned how to care for others because of my early interest in and satisfaction with caregiving. I wanted my parents to always be happy and proud of me, so I tried hard everyday to make sure I cared for them by doing everything right. I learned that if I helped my Mom keep our home in order and made sure my dad was never without his favorite sweets it kept them smiling. I may not have always cared for them the best I could, but I woke up everyday knowing that that was one of my life’s missions. Hence why I tried to always stick to the plan my parents had for me: excel in school, go to college and find success and happiness in my career and life.

When my Mother died, I was so hard on myself for a long time because I felt like I let her down. I didn’t care for her enough. Didn’t give her enough of what made her happy or made her feel loved. But, I knew I could ensure her eternal happiness by sticking with my life plans that the two of us would talk about often. She was so excited for me to go to college, start my career, get married and give her grandchildren. So that’s what I did.

As time passed though, I realized that caring for someone isn’t always about the care you give; it’s also about the care they give themselves. And although my Mom was the quintessential caregiver from the time she was young until the day she passed, she probably could have used a good caregiver herself. Someone to check in on her well-being, make her feel like she was a priority, and give her time for herself. I’ll always wonder if that would have made a difference.

In my college years, I began to understand that caregiving could look many different ways and involve a lot more than I had ever done for others. It was much more than just loving and taking pride in something or someone. I saw my aunt, for years, take care of my ailing grandmother. It was a type of care that I had never experienced before and I soon realized that caregiving could be a very literal set of life-saving actions. At the heart of it, it is about loving, protecting, and supporting someone, but it is also so much more about ensuring a person’s physical, mental and emotional well-being are cared for with intention.

I saw the toll it took on my aunt everyday, but she, too, has always had a heart of service and so I knew it was something she did with her whole heart. She gave my grandmother—her mother—the best quality of life possible in her last years. Not everyone could have done what she did and that’s what makes caregiving so extraordinary to me.

Ten years ago, I became a caregiver on a whole other level; I became a mother. Nico has been my absolute world for the ten years I have had him by my side, and in the beginning I did everything a mother should do—I loved him and protected him and cared for him in every way possible. He was and, of course, still is my pride and joy; he is my masterpiece.

But there came a time in my first year and a half with Nico that I realized I would be loving and caring for him in ways that might require me to give infinitely more of myself than I ever had before, and it might very well be for the rest of MY life.

His autism has shown me what caregiving looks like for those who truly need so much of their physical, mental, emotional and social well-being managed. I have been on a true journey of patience, love, hope and resilience with Nico. I learned early on that Nico would need a lot of advocacy because he did not have the words to advocate for himself. He would need to be cared for when it came to many social skills that children his age were building on their own.

Getting dressed, using the restroom, bathing, feeding himself, and working through difficult emotions independently. For all of these skill sets, I have been there caring for and supporting Nico. He is at an age where he has become more independent and can do more for himself, but for being ten and a half years old, he needs very specialized caregiving.

I have signed on to the idea that I may be taking care of him well into his adult years, and I am comfortable knowing that, but it still scares me. No one will ever take care of your child better than you, especially if you are the mom, but my biggest fear is who will do it when I am gone and Nico is still not able to do it for himself.

This is a feeling so visceral that it keeps me up at night and can become all-consuming if I let it.

But now I am entering a chapter of caregiving that transcends Nico. I am transitioning into a caregiver for my father, and this kind of care feels completely different than what I am doing with Nico, yet it’s equally as essential and necessary. My father is still able-bodied in many ways, but with age comes more needs and I have reached that pivotal moment in time with my father.

It’s definitely surreal to go from knowing you were the one being cared for by your parent to suddenly being the caregiver for your parent. And knowing I will be doing it simultaneously while caring for Nico and, let us not forget, my precious and precocious three year old…well, I’m feeling a bit tired and need a Rip Van Winkle-size nap!

I’m fortunate to have a strong family who will support my brother and me on this journey, and I have aunts and uncles who also know what it is like to be a caregiver so I feel confident in my support team.

But….

no matter how much love and care I have ready to give these loves of my life, it’s still a huge weight to carry.

I feel for anyone who is a caregiver on this level because your life is not just your own. You have to make choices for, advocate for, and consistently care for someone else whose needs may surpass your own in many ways. It’s a very empowering, yet exhausting responsibility.

I just have to keep reminding myself that I am not alone. I have support and can seek out more if I need to. And, it’s what I was built to do. I truly feel like this was somehow “written in the stars” for me because I don’t think I’d feel so sure that I could do it otherwise. I felt this way when I knew Nico had autism and I feel this way now knowing my father will need me more.

Now don’t get me wrong…I question how I will manage it all on the daily while being a full-time working mom of two, a doting wife, and an Uber-involved school mom, but one thing my Mom always told me was this:

You never know how strong you are until you have no other choice.

And, I will continue to recite this powerful prayer in my head just as I’m sure my Mom did when life became more than she could handle:

God, grant me the serenity

To accept the things I cannot change,

Courage to change the things I can,

And wisdom to know the difference.

These words will be on repeat in my head to help ensure I stay grounded. And, I will work diligently to give myself care because if I’m not caring for myself I know I will not be able to continue the incredible caregiving that my loved ones so need and deserve.

So…

here’s to the next adventure in love, patience and hope.