a frail hand…

As her grip becomes weaker and sudden visits to the emergency room become the norm, I find myself wedged  between those with needs.

The episode repeats:

  • she feels faint
  • can’t walk, barely talks
  • taken to the hospital where she gets MRIs
  • nurses comment that she is so tiny – which she likes

I understand now that edge…the edge on which to balance the present anxiety and dread. I admit at getting discomfited when my moms enters the ER. I never know if this is it nor how soon she will leave us forever. I feel like if I don’t visit, then I am a horrible person. If I leave my family at  every episode, I feel like a horrible person. How am I to divide myself?

I believe it rests on those thoughts where caregivers must relinquish a feeling of obligated tyranny and rest through discernment of the immediate situation.

Obligation is such a dirty word to caregivers. We should feel happy and restful in caring for others, or rather, the semblance thereof.

Never measure self worth by the visits, but rest in the connection that we have – making the most of each moment.

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