Caregiving Friends

Just when you think your caregiving role is over, it’s not.

I just got off of the phone with a dear friend who told me that his father died last night. His father was frail and had significant health problems over the past few years. While his health and functioning were declining, his death was not surprising, but it was unexpected. As I get older, I am at the point in life where many of my friends’ parents are old, failing, and dying.  I never anticipated that these deaths would affect me as deeply as they do. Some of the parents I have known well, some only met once or twice, and others I never met, but my affection grew for them as I helped to support my friends in their caregiver journeys. Everybody’s experience is both different and the same. Family caregiving is universal.

As a nurse and a family caregiver I didn’t anticipate the opportunities for support and guidance to my friends and from my friends during caregiving until we shared our stories. I have discussions with my friends about everything from skin care, hydration, mobility, home modifications for safety, community resources, struggles among siblings, communicating with healthcare providers, and communicating with parent who have significant cognitive impairment.  Just last night, my cousin told me how hurtful it was that her mom was so sad and tearful when she talked to her, yet to everyone else my aunt sounded cheerful and hopeful. I asked her to remember when my mother was so horrible to me, telling me she never wanted to see me again, telling me to get out of her room and never come back. At the same time my mother was loving to my brothers, sister-in-law, and others. I was devastated, but another caregiving friend of mine assured me that my mother’s behavior was no reflection on our relationship. She told me not to take my mother’s anger personally, that she was probably trying in her mixed-up mind to sort out everything that was happening to her.  I remember visualizing the neurons in my mother’s brain, wildly firing in new ways that made no sense to my mom.  My friend’s insight and reassurance helped me tremendously. My cousin was right by my side during those difficult times. She listened to me and she held me while I sobbed.  I hope my cousin comes to understand that her mom’s behavior, while hurtful, is not unusual. Her mom probably feels safest with my cousin and knows that no matter what, she will not abandon her. As twisted as it sounds, her mom’s behavior is a reflection of the strong love she has for her. My aunt knows her daughter will never abandon her.

One great support from my family caregiving friends comes with sharing the humor in the weird situations we find ourselves in with our parents. I think back of some of the conversations I had with another friend and they bring smiles to my face. This friend’s dad was flamboyant all his life and his delusions became wildly exaggerated with his cognitive impairment. We had bellyaching laughs as she told me about interactions with her dad. She told me of a time she met with her father and his attorney. The attorney wasn’t convinced of the extent to which his client was delusional until he asked the attorney, “Now we have to figure out how to manage the $10 million donation I received from the Queen of England. I so want to do good with this money she entrusted to me.” Sharing our crazy stories and laughing helps both my friend and I to get through the challenges that caregiving tosses our way.  

At the end of the phone call with my friend he thanked me for the support I have given him the past couple of years. He gave me this precious gift of appreciation that I will never forget. I have come to understand that family caregiving is a web that meaningfully connects us to our loved ones and to our wider circle of friends and families. I find comfort in this.