“Let me finish this,” I snapped in exasperation. I was setting down my drink, but GG* was not willing to wait on me to put it down. I could tell from the way she grabbed for her lunch there would be a spill to clean up. I had no desire to see her food all over the kitchen floor, and knew that she didn’t either.
“Be thankful,” a small voice whispered inside my soul. Just three days earlier, I’d been reminded of how much I had to be thankful for with GG.
We’d left early Thursday morning to drive to a neighboring town for the funeral of her first cousin. GG and the sibling to the cousin were the only grandchildren that remained of fifty-five grandchildren to her maternal grandparents.
Following the funeral we stopped to check in on another dear cousin {on another side of the family}, only a month older than GG. My heart broke to see our once vibrant and composed loved one, living in a body that was a shell of the woman we remembered and loved.
By the time we returned home, GG was exhausted and needed to rest, but just the fact that at two months shy of 90 years old, she could make this trip, I knew how blessed we were.
GG is far from perfect and has had her own string of health issues over the years, but she’s been an amazing fighter in bouncing back. Then moments after tucking GG to bed on Thursday evening, the fire truck and ambulance pull up. I look out the window, to discover they are there for a neighbor that fell. Once again, as the day closes, I am reminded of what a blessing GG is and to cherish this time that I have with her.
I know that inevitably the day will come when things change and she is no longer here. So I take a deep breath, pick her plate of food up and follow her to her chair. “Thank you for GG and this time together,” I remind myself in a silent prayer.
Are you taking time to see the blessing in caring for your loved one?
*Name altered
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Caregiving, is it a blessing or a curse?
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