Being a Caregiver

As a professional caregiver for more than 20 years I have felt very comfortable taking care of people. I frequently give patients and their family members advice. Now I have a totally different perception, as I have become a caregiver at home as well. I have told many people to "take care of, so they could take care of their loved one", and "find a balance spending time with and taking care of the other people in your life, not just the disabled one". At the same time I have always had a difficult time slowing down and taking care of myself.

Recently I hit my wall, the first time ever I was a "no call, no show" at work. I was putting my daughter to bed and fell asleep, I did not wake up until almost 4 a.m. my shift started at 11p.m., I was sleeping when I should be spending time with my kids. I was worrying when I should have been sleeping. I felt I was failing as a mother, as a spouse, as a friend, I started pulling myself away, and becoming more depressed. Sleeping was my escape, because when I was present I could never do enough. The short amount of time I spent with my family was met by each of my four children (2, 6, 10, and 12) demanding their portion of my time. It was usually in a negative way such as whining or arguing, which made me even more resigned to retreat.

It was during this time that I was trying to keep up with and understand my 12 year-old son. He is an avid reader, I keep track of what he is reading by reading on my breaks at work, parts of the books on google. His fascination and dream is to be an astronaut. His hero is Homer Hickman. First I read some of "October Sky". Intrigued by his writing style I than began reading "The Keeper’s Son".

My son’s hero has brought to new light my perspective in life. For the past several months I have felt as though I have been walking on broken glass, even wading through it. It pierced through every part of me, as I went through stages of grieving. And it hurt so much, I lashed out and probably hurt others as well, never intentionally, but the way we react in a painful situation is frequently less than admirable.

I was reading the Keeper’s Son and his description of beach glass, made me think about the broken glass in my life, and hopes that it would become smooth and glisten in the light like the beach glass he described.

To become beautiful the glass has been changed from it's original sharp broken state as it has been sifted through the sand, bumped against rocks and tossed in the waves of the sea. The broken glass embedded in my life may be from inside of me, it may be imposed upon me by others, but as I read this passage in his book I saw the sparkle through my minds eye. And came to the realization that given time and patience the broken glass in my life may become smooth and beautiful like the beach glass.