November is National Caregivers Month so I thought this was the right time to post about a very special person, my mom. I don’t even know if one simple blog post will do her justice, but I’ll try. Being a caregiver isn’t easy. It means you’re committed to helping someone, before you can help yourself. It means that you’re willing to put someone else’s needs before your own. Being someone’s caregiver is a choice, it’s not a requirement. And the decision to be one is done out of love. My mom is not only my caregiver but she is also my Dad’s, who has muscular dystrophy.
The thing is, my mom didn’t chose this life. When she married my dad neither of them knew he had MD and they definitely were not expecting to have a child with Cystic Fibrosis. She has never once complained about the life that was chosen for her. She juggles taking care of my dad, myself and finding time for things she loves. If you walk into her bedroom you will find lots of yarn, spinning wheels and a weaving loom. Textiles are her thing and she is an amazing knitter. She can make anything from a simple scarf to a complex sweater. When she has to miss a knitting retreat or dinner with friends to help my dad or me, she says that she wants to be there with us. That she would rather be there to help us get through our struggle than go have fun with her friends. If that’s not pure love, then I am not sure what is.
You see, I’m alive today because of my mom. As a child you never want to do hours of treatments a day or spend time in the hospital. But my mom ensured everything got done and would spend every day with me in the hospital, finding ways to entertain me during it all. She kept my medications ordered and organized over the years and has spent hours at a time working through insurance issues. Now a days, I manage my own medications but that is because my mom set me up for success when it was my time to take it over. She prepared me for when Cystic Fibrosis would become my disease and when I would have to do things on my own.
Last summer when I was in the hospital she came every single day. My mom’s presence made me comfortable. Some nights after she would leave me for the evening, I would be uncomfortable and unable to get to bed. I would send her a text telling her I couldn’t get comfortable or to sleep and she would jump back into the car and come back to the hospital until I fell asleep. Her presence made me comfortable. Her presence makes a lot of people comfortable.
Everyone who knows my mom can attest to the type of person she is. She is a firecracker and knows how to handle a tough situation. When I was in the ICU last summer, the nurses knew she was a ball of fire. She taught kids in drug rehab and every single one of them loved her, they learned from her and they graduated high school because of her. She knows how to give that tough love that many people need. My mom is also very loving. She always wants a hug in exchange for a glass of milk and would never let go if it was up to her. I still notice her frequently embracing my dad even though he can’t hug her back. That’s the thing about my mom, she does things out of the kindness of her heart and never expects anything in return.
So this month, for national caregiver month, I wanted to make sure everyone reading my blog knew how amazing my mom is. How amazing of a caregiver she is. How kind of a person she is. And how I’m alive today because of her. If you’re ever privileged enough to meet her, you’re one lucky person.