THE CAREGIVER’S COMMENT
I can’t tell you how many times a day that I’m asked the question, “How’s your Mother?”
What I can tell you is that it is one too many times each and every time.
When I’m unloading the groceries making trip after trip, and I’m asked, “How’s your Mother?” I think to myself, “What about me? Here I am carrying all these bags from the car to the elevator, obviously exhausted and no one offers any assistance or asks how I am.
When there are tears in my eyes while doing the laundry because I am so very tired, I have to resist screaming when asked, “How’s your Mother?”
The first question my Friends used to ask when answering my call, was “How’s your Mother?” My Friends—my true friends no longer ask that question knowing that if there was any notable change with my Mom, I would mention it.
This question comes up at what I think are the most in-opportune times like..
When I am carrying the extra-large box in which the Depends are shipped. A box that is at least 2/3 times my size and so big that I have to struggle to see around it to get to the elevator.
When I am emptying the trash for what seems like the tenth time of the day.
Whenever I see any of the neighbors or anyone who knows both me and my Mother. Keep in mind that it is a small town and as such almost everyone knows my Mom.
When I bump into the Maintenance man who always wants to stop and chat. I am never quite sure whether he is flirting with me or has a mad crush on my Mom.
Therefore, I decided to come up with an appropriate response that would lesson the annoyance I felt every time someone asked the perfectly normal, polite, caring question.
And so now when asked, “How’s your Mother?”
I simply respond, “My Mother is fine she is well taken care of.” And I say it with a smile.
But since it is such a perfectly normal question to ask, I thought about it and was able to pinpoint when this question became so annoying. It was the moment when I realized that I am a Caregiver and as such at least 97% of the things that I do, think, or feel are directly related to my Mom. Therefore, I desperately seek moments that I can divert my focus at least for a little while.
So, when I’m taking a 20-minute walk listening to my music in a world all my own, the last thing I want to do is have a conversation about my Mother’s well-being. At least not for 20 minutes!
I am the one who gets no sleep. I am the one who handles everything—physically, financially, and administratively. As a Caregiver, I operate in a state of mental, physical, and emotional exhaustion.
When I look in the mirror, I see a shadow of my former self that is not always reflected in selfies.
I think that a more appropriate question for them to ask me is, “How are you?”
However, until such time when people begin to look closely at the dark circles under my eyes or listen a little harder to hear the hesitation in my voice as I choke back tears, I suppose they will continue to ask,
“How’s your Mother?”
And I will continue to answer with my Caregiver’s version of “no comment,” and say,
“My Mother is fine; she is well taken care of.”
I will say it with a smile and the confidence in knowing that it is indeed true.
Afterall, as her Caregiver, I should know.
hi how you doing kenny g – YouTube
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