Gifts


I guess my gifts and also my compulsions are intimately connected, like two sides of a coin, for one to exist, the other also has to also be there. These two sides come into existence, or perhaps a better word, were birthed, from my interaction with past experiences, and sometimes with one really important event, that caused a process to begin that is still flowing to this day. There seems, at least for me, the one happening or experience, from which my clouded interpretations of latter experiences are based on. There are a few that I can pinpoint to, others a little vaguer.

I am a caregiver. I suppose being the 3^rd oldest of 11 brothers and sisters has something to do with it. You just get used to caring for others, so it is common in my family, a lot of caregivers in it. Robert the 2^nd oldest in his own way is a caregiver. Even when young he was into giving to the community in ways that I would never be attracted to. Now he is a priest in the Episcopal Church, ordained just last year, and seems very happy and competent in his calling. Sissy works with the elderly, Jane is a therapist for those in recovery, John is active in his ministry in helping others, and Judy is very empathic towards the needs of people in her life, especially those in the family. Craig is very generous in giving time and money for others in need, even if it hurts himself along finical lines. So yes care giving is part of our family. Both the giftedness and the underlying compulsion equally part of the equation.

I often take up for others and as I get older, am able to see more often and clearly, when I am going over the top in doing so. I think that points to me trying to protect others from what I have experienced in the past, or interrupted perhaps the better word, and perhaps wrongly. I can be unfair to those in authority over me and am trying to find some ways to either offset that reaction, or to at least tone it down a bit. The compulsive side of care giving can be destructive when it is not freely acted upon, but one feels compelled to do so. A kind of desperation comes into play, a savior complex, if I don’t do this the others world will fall apart and it will be my fault. So yes it is a transference, the bringing up something from the long buried past that is feeding into the present. Compulsions can take the person experiencing them from the present and drag everyone involved into their trying to right some past injustice, hurt, or abuse. Each becomes a character in a play created by the unconscious, to be played over and over again until some insight can be had. The best way for me is to simply catch myself doing it and trying to tone it down. Which of course is easier said than done. For there is some truth in trying to help others, just keep it in the present with boundaries intact. Helping someone is not the same as taking responsibility for their lives and decisions.

The trying to save others from pain and suffering can also put the helper in circumstances that can be deadly in their own personal lives. People can be helped, but none of us can be saved from the work needed to escape the cycle of pain and dejection. We can support each other, but in the end, each must wake up, or if not, become a victim for the rest of their lives. No one can wake up for us, though others can help, but the sinking or swimming is in the end, at least for most, a choice made consciously or unconsciously.

It also takes faith to trust in the process that is our lives. Being a Christian, that would involve the grace of God working in the depths of each person’s life. I can be Christ hands in helping, but the freedom to learn, or not, is left to each of us personally. So helping others in freedom is different than being compelled to do so.

Yours

My thoughts are mine,
as my sins as well,
the evil I do belongs to me,
also the despair generated,
an inner hunger wishing to devour.

O Lord,
the light is yours,
also the healing,
the joy as well belongs to you,
the gift of mercy,
your grace freely given,
who can understand it?

Option

Waiting is almost a way of life,
in traffic,
doctor's offices,
for loved ones arrivial,
everywhere we wait.

For What?

For an ending,
so the flow of life,
our plans,
continue.

Until the next wait.

Perhaps life is a waiting area,
something that simply is,
our only control our attitude
or perhaps understanding,
our depth of perception
the only option.

I often wait


I wonder what is behind the mask I wear,
so forcefully applied that I think it actually real,
hidden beneath my hidden visage
myself unable to comprehend,
fearful at times for the images received
fill my heart with a certain dread.

I know that I am duplicitous
even if not done in spite,
for my face looks in both directions
striving to go just one course;
the middle torn and bleeding
confused at my own insubstantial striving,
afraid of the in-between
that I seek to hide from grace.

In part I know,
the rest I seek to flee,
yet the deeper regions
reside within,
trapped in my own web of inner deceit.

So I often wait yet not in despair,
for I have learned to trust
in the something deeper going on
beyond my thought and striving,
bringing my life to fruition

Small spaces

It is hard to understand looking from the outside, just how little and small life can become for those old and declining, or simply those who have a debilitating illness.  Emilio is a man that I have been taking care for about 4 years now.  Or should I say ‘we', for there or of course others.  Rose the RN, who is very caring, and works very hard to care for those under her charge.  Then there is Neda, an LPN, who is also very dedicated to those that she cares for.   Bernie, Ann, Rita, Elda, Bernadette, Bilolge, all CNA's.  So yes we have quite a team, we need it, for there is a lot to be done.  I am sort of in charge, but I try to stay out of the RN's way, for if do not give her my support, she will not be able to fulfill her function fully.  She has earned my trust.  She is fair in dealing with those who answer to her, but demands their best.  So those who need care, whose worlds have shrunk, need a lot of help to be able to live a decent life there.  Each is unique and requires a little different kind of treatment.  Some have dementia, so we make their decisions for them.  When to get up, feeding, baths etc.  Others, who have their faculties, have more freedom in some decisions, in others, well we have a schedule to maintain, and so they go along with certain activities that simply need to be done.   So each has different needs, emotional, physical and spiritual; we try to deal with all three levels.

So back to Emilio; who over the last month or so, has gotten progressively weaker and in more need of care, more than in the past, when he was a little stronger.  He wanted to talk to me about ‘things'.  So I went to his room, sat down for a chat.  I have a lot of those here it seems; chats.  He was anxious about the move we were going to do this week.  We are going to move him to a room closer to the Nurses station.  Since his fall, his ability to feel in his hands has lessened, as well as in his feet, so he is quite helpless.  He can't use the phone any more, so we are placing him in a room that the Nurses and CNA's are near much of the time.  It is also near the dinning and TV area.  He likes to watch the news and also Turner Classic Movies.   A blessing, this channel, no commercials, which can cause some problems for those with dementia, overload at times, for they often involve many scenes one after another.

He just needed reassuring that it would all go smoothly, for he tends to be  anxious about ‘little things', but not about the ‘big thing'.  So I assured him that it would go well, and would only take a couple of hours to complete the move.  We just needed to clean each room, move his stuff in, and it would be over.  I then asked him if he was afraid about his getting weaker.  He looked at me, shrugged, smiled and said: "no, what can I do".  He also said:  "I think I will be gone by Christmas".  Well we shall see.  What I am amazed at is his lack of fear about death, he is totally at peace. 

He is a thoughtful man, was a teacher for many years.  Loves philosophy, his favorite writer was ‘Blondel', of whom I have read little, but plan on doing so in the future.  I have a long reading list, perhaps I will get to it before I die. I am sure I will, for I think it will allow me to understand this very special and lovable man, of whom I have had the honor of accompanying, at least a little on his journey.

He sleeps well, adapts to his world shrinking, and stays in good humor.  I can get a little impatient, when I forget that even if his world his smaller than mine, much smaller, it is still his whole world, so little concerns, are really big ones.  As the saying goes, "A tempest in a teapot is still a tempest"; something I often need reminding about, and thank God I get it on a regular basis.

It is very humbling to take care of others; for they often manifest great courage and forbearance in dealing with there everyday lives.  I just hope that I can learn from them.  Since the years are speeding up, and yes add that I will soon be 60, I will perhaps sooner than I want to be, asked to give up some of the independence that I so take for granted.  The number of years remaining really doesn't matter, for the rapidity of time is such that it will be experienced as soon, no matter how many days, months and years pass.   Maybe I will also be able to take the ‘big thing' in stride, and find the peace that Emilio manifest to those around him.