I read a line from the book White Noise which instantly caught my attention.
“Hitler gave me something to grow into and develop toward.”
The character Jack, a university professor, created the Hitler studies department to study the continuing mass appeal of fascist tyranny.
The meaning of the line outside the context of the book is the gradual process of becoming a more complete version of oneself.
In the context of a sudden and totally unexpected life change, such as becoming a caregiver. It means being forced to grow into a role that is likely much larger than the life I expected.
Steve was diagnosed with transverse myelitis in September of 2023
I had just turned 61 and retirement from work was looming on the horizon, like a big, beautiful sunrise full of the promise of another day.
Gone for the two of us are the impromptu trips, vacations, live music. Gone for me are days alone in the apartment. Going to bed when I want, getting up when I want, vacations, live music.
Instead, it’s monthly doctor appointments, long hours in the emergency room, the drudgery of the same thing day in and day out, twice daily catheter care, shower days, cooking, cleaning, silence from family and friends, cancelled plans, anxiety, depression, resentment, anger. There is the constant scan of Steve for the slightest change and the dreaded dropping of the other shoe when things are “good.”
This website and my writing are not about Steve and his diagnosis, although I will write about those two items when needed, because it is my life.
Why add all this to my current responsibilities?
I am one of those people who has to do something. I possess a longing for depth and meaning in my life. I want to process life and find purpose through active creation. It is what motivates me to get out of bed in the morning.
At this stage in my life I feel it even stronger as my old life is no longer an option.
One of the things I will do is document my journey. In part to keep myself accountable.
I have changed dramatically since I became a caregiver. While this will sound paradoxical, I feel calm. Calmer than I have in decades. Why? I am not sure. While my time is not my own, I have a lot of “free time”, meaning my caregiving duties are not 24/7.
Today for example, I am writing this as I sit in the gorgeous outside patio of my local library, listening to the birds, and sipping on a caramel latte with oat milk.
And doubly paradoxical is that I can now focus more on me
I have never thought much about old age. I am relatively healthy. My cholesterol is a bit high and my blood pressure needs to be controlled, but those are things I can change. I have lost a few pounds and plan on losing more.
My health journey came into sharper focus since I became a caregiver. I see Steve’s physical deterioration. During his doctor’s visits, his PT visits, his ER visits, I see so many older people who are sick and look much older than their years. It’s like coming face to face with a possible future for myself.
I realize everyone ages and I am not on the anti-aging wellness train. However, I want to live my last 20 or 30 years the best I can.
In addition to my health:
I am going to find that creative outlet and put work into that. I am going to try to become more financially independent. I am going to read more books, with the goal of at least three books a month.
I am going to cook one new recipe a week, and they don’t have to be complicated. Yesterday I made some yummy almond flour and everything bagel crackers. Addictive!
I am going to let go of my resentments. I cannot change the situation or other people. So, it’s time to let those fly away and live my life with what I have in front of me.
While I do not expect this to be easy, I don’t want to live my life wallowing in what could be.
That being said it doesn’t mean I won’t have days where I feel sorry for myself and lay in bed binging true crime shows or Kitchen Nightmares. And hey, I do not feel one bit guilty about that.