CAN A CAREGIVER EVER TRULY BE CARE FREE, EVEN FOR A MOMENT?

Recently, I read a comment from a woman who said, “Since my husband’s diagnosis of terminal cancer, I have had not had one single carefree moment.  I really, really do miss carefree moments.”

I have given her statement a lot of thought over the last few weeks.  Unless one has “walked her path”, it is not possible to know how one would react in similar circumstances, however I do believe that contemplating such issues is a good thing.

From a practical point of view, as a caregiver, one must maintain (as much as possible) an emotional equilibrium; otherwise it is not a good situation for both the caregiver and the one being cared for.

But how, in a practical (as opposed to philosophical) way, can someone have even one carefree moment in the face of heartache?

For people who are grieving, or are performing the duties of a caregiver or have huge problems, this might seem unattainable – but is it? 

I ask the following questions, and seek the compassionate responses from others, because I believe that answers to these questions could be the source of help to many, many people who are in emotional pain of one sort or another.  The questions are as follows:

“If one has huge “cares” that occupy their every single waking moment, then wouldn’t even one single moment of “CareFreeNess” be worth its weight in gold?  How could this be accomplished?”  What can you suggest that might achieve this? 

Please share your thoughts.  It could be a lesson that could help others in the future.  Here are my thoughts that I would like to share with you.”

I recently took up skiing after a 25 year absence from the sport.  When I downhill ski, I have to have intense concentration in order not to fall.  It is literally impossible to entertain ANY other thought without losing concentration and going for a tumble.  In that moment, whether or not I want to be, I am care free. 

For my wife, it’s Tai Chi.  In order to accomplish the 108 moves correctly in the proper sequence and in near-perfect execution, you have to concentrate so hard that it is impossible to have any other thought in your head.

“One cannot stop oneself from thinking.  One cannot think two thoughts simultaneously.  One can choose which thought to think.  And whatever it is that we CHOOSE to focus on tends to expand.” 

All hackneyed aphorisms, I know, but they have helped set the course of a reasonably peaceful life.

And in a very practical sense, these axioms have helped me greatly to suppress the fear and uncertainty while caring for my wife who has been ill (not terminally) for the last three months.  With a peaceful countenance, I can best serve her needs.  - eKim

Hello NatR and Mark99

I have been thinking about each of your postings for days now, trying to come up with an appropriate response.  Mark, your story resonates with me as I am currently the caregiver for my wife who as been ill (not terminally) since October.  I will respond to you, in time.

NatR, Please look at my new posting "Self Care for the Caregiver and the Child Within".  Quite simply, I was thinking of you in the sense that you inspired me to write it.

All my best, my friends.     - eKim

Hi Mark

I read your post with great interest, Mark.  Your marriage seems to have been one between soul mates. You describe Donna as a woman “smart, strong, independent, and extraordinarily creative and who didn’t tolerate fools gladly”.  I could use the same words to describe my wife.

Your words resonate with me.  I believe that our marriage is in the same mold as yours and Donna.   I have been caring for my wife for the last four months.  Although, (and thankfully) she will recover, nonetheless it has caused me great concern and worry. 

When I read of your story, Mark, I am not certain that I would cope as well in your situation.  I admire you for how you persevered in the most challenging and heartrending circumstances.  I also admire you for sharing your story, thereby reaching out to help as you say, “other caregivers past, present, and future”

It is interesting how you reveal both sides of the equation, the fear of seeing Donna succumbing to the cancer, and the joy in caring for her as you tried provide her some freedom from her suffering by making every moment count. 

The word “joy” might confuse some people, but I think I understand.  Your great joy comes from your great love – purely and simply.  I think that your example provides the ideal “Caregiver’s Toolbox” that you speak of.  Your love gave you everything that you needed to complete your role as a caregiver.

You speak of the “crushing aloneness of life after the death of a loved one”.  Mark could you expand on this?  How has it gone and how is it going for you.  Many people feel lost in this situation and would benefit greatly from your example and your story.  Please share.

Your friends here at Virtual Hospice are cheering you on to a wonderful future.

-        eKim