Hope in the Smallest Moments

Sometimes it's hard to write. What's in my brain just doesn't have that interest factor or I can't write anything inspiring. Worse yet, I have nothing to say! That's the life of this caregiver. There are legitimate days where the day-in-day-out routine just isn't exciting.

I've learned that I love building. I love the excitement of getting to the end of a project. The goal is here. The maintenance is what's hard. And in those moments, there is growth, too.

While walking to the car the other day, I noticed something. A normal walk. It was a fleeting moment, but the gait, the posture, the steps.... were familiar. My person told me he was pushing very hard, but I saw it.

A few days later, "the claw hand" as we call it... felt normal. If only for a short time, again... progress.

Its those statements and moments that give me genuine hope. Our current normal may not be forever, like it feels sometimes. It's not a guarantee that there will be drastic improvement, but sometimes hope is what you need.

I recognize that I'm in a lucky position. Our situation may not be permanent or worse. When I look back a few months, there is no way that was a sustainable way of life for us. Yet I know others have no choice and it is, or worse. But then again, there has always been something needling me in the back of my mind on my physically bad days ... well before all this... that this situation would be a reality. What I didn't know is that before the age of 5-0 that this would be my life. I figured nearer my 60s. That's the unexpected parts of life. You just never know. Gut instincts be damned!

There are also the days where my person does something unexpected for me. I am run down this week due to a very minor illness. If you look back a few blog posts ago, Mostly,

will tell you about our mornings. I'm told that I'm not a morning person and I was dragging. So on Tuesday's pickup, I was informed that my person took the following day off. It was like music to my ears. I was so grateful. I needed the rest. I needed the gesture.

I would love to paint a rosy picture and say "this is how you do it" but I can't. It looks different for every caregiver and their person. But it does take determination, persistance and strength. Fellow caregiver, you have that in spades. What option do you have, right? Well, choice or not, you have it. Somehow you get through the really difficult moments, days, weeks and still manage to do it. Easy? Never. But I see you. I really do.