Belatedly Thankful

After my mother suffered her stroke, I subscribed to all kinds of forums and discussion boards aimed at caregivers.  It was definitely helpful to hear other people’s perspectives on the issues I was encountering.  I learned some valuable, practical information.  Knowing that other people struggled with the same feelings helped me tolerate the conflicting emotions I had misfiring all throughout my sympathetic nervous system.  

There was one recurring theme that kept coming up in different posts that I just couldn’t get behind, however.  So often a participant would write to encourage someone in the throes of caregiving by saying that the day would come when the caregiver would be grateful for the experience.  While I was living it, I don’t know that I could ever really say I was grateful for the experience.  It wasn’t that I thought the well-intentioned commenters on the discussion boards were lying.  The term “Pollyanna” might have come to mind.  On the whole, I accepted that those people were being honest about their own experiences and their feelings of gratitude, but their experiences just didn’t seem to apply to me.  

People said that caregivers end up triumphing over the drudgery, exhaustion, and sadness.  They said that it is common to transcend the difficulties of the long struggle so that providing care becomes easier.  I didn’t see how that could happen with me, as inept as I was.  They said that the difficulties of caregiving take a backseat to the benefits the caregiver receives, like the satisfaction of providing for a parent’s comfort.  I didn’t see myself really providing for my mother’s comfort, just witnessing her decline.  They said that a caregiver can consider any additional time with the dying parent to be a gift.  I often felt like this gift came at too high a cost to both my mother and me. They said that, no matter how painful and difficult it is to walk with a parent on this final journey, the caregiver is rewarded by a closer, more intimate and loving relationship with the parent.  I didn’t see how this could be possible with my mother and me.  Our relationship has always been closer than that of any other mother and daughter I know.   

So, all in all, I could not find much for which to be grateful while slogging through the tragedy of my mother’s last thirteen months of life.  I admit that I found the folks who posted about the “gift” of being a caregiver to be somewhat suspect.  When I read those posts, I remembered the saying, “If you can keep your head while everyone around you is losing theirs, perhaps you don’t understand the situation.”  In other words, if the posters who were touting the joys and benefits of being a caregiver were sincere, perhaps they didn’t really understand the situation.  I admit that this was probably a bit of misplaced anger on my part.  Still, I also knew that I was not finding caregiving to be a gift.  I felt that I was somehow fundamentally flawed because I couldn’t get past the pain to grasp the joy. 

Now that my mother is gone, I am beginning to understand a little better. I can look back and be grateful for the time we had together at the end of her life.  I was not a very talented caregiver, but I did learn a lot of the skills necessary.  I see that my mother did derive substantial comfort from my presence.  Yes, it was very difficult for me to observe my mother’s decline, but I do now appreciate the time I had with her in the last months.  Even though we have always been exceptionally close and our ability to communicate verbally all but disappeared in my mother’s last months, I feel our intimacy grew richer and stronger and more honest as we took this journey.  No, I never did get completely past the drudgery and exhaustion and sadness, but I do now see the gift.  The gift was loving my mother through it all and letting her love me.  Now I am thankful for it. 

Gratitude deferred is not gratitude denied.  Gratitude deferred is growth.

Have you ever had an experience that you hated while going through it, but came to appreciate it after it was over? Please join the conversation and tell us about it!  Please share your perspective by leaving a comment.  In the alternative, you can email me at terriretirement@gmail.com.  

Have a thankful day!

Terri 🙂

P.S. Special programming announcement…. I am going to be on a trip around the world (Disneyworld, that is) for a few days next week.  I’ll be posting on Thursday evening instead of Wednesday morning.  

6 thoughts on “Belatedly Thankful”

  1. An interesting perspective as I look towards others who have gone through a journey I am embarking on…trust in them a bit more. While my journey will be unique, they have done the whole path so understand the full range of emotion. Perhaps I will also defer the gratitude along the journey, perhaps not. Love “gratitude deferred is not gratitude denied”!

    1. You are certainly right, Pat. Every caregiver and every care receiver has their own unique journey- the bad and the beautiful. Wishing you love, peace, and joy as you put your feet to the path!

  2. I have not had to go through my mother’s last days, since my brother and sister-in-law did that. I did care for my aunt who lived at Town & Country Manor in her last days. It does kind of made me panic when she was losing lots of blood and they said she wouldn’t last the night. I stayed with her in the hospital that night, but she just kept going for several weeks after that. I did talk with care givers in the Manor several times. She just was ready to meet her Saviour and stopped eating and just closed here eyes and in a few days she was gone…a very peaceful leaving this earth for her. I then had to ship her body North to Oregon and had several issues I wasn’t ready for at that time. It is a difficult time, but the Lord helped me through.

  3. I was a caregiver for my late husband who passed at age 55 from esophagus cancer….I had to do things I never thought I could…but you do what you have to do…one day at a time…..from that experience I learned more compassion and love…then I was a caregiver for my uncle and my mother….no regrets….I think it prepares you for the loss…

    1. I’m sorry to hear of your loss, Linda. It must have been very difficult to see your husband fade away from you way too soon. You are a special person. It is difficult to care for another and you went through it three times. I agree with your perspective. I do think your heart grows to encompass all that you learn and do while on this path. It is a huge challenge, but there truly is a huge reward.

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