The last weekend in February has been a fun one for the last
seven years. It’s usually the weekend of my daughter’s birthday but sometimes
falls the weekend after her actual birthday. We have ridden the train to Fort
Worth and participated in some way in the Cowtown races. This year, we did the
10K together on Saturday. The rest of the weekend is ours to enjoy. This year,
we just relaxed other than the expo for the event and the 10K we finished early
on Saturday.
Giving her this one weekend a month where it’s just
mother-daughter, is not really enough to make up for giving all my time to her
brother, Chris, whom I care for 24/7. It doesn’t really give her back the time
she’s lost these last 11 years. But it’s a special time for her and for me – we
spend it together just being us. It’s always loads of fun and she calls all the
shots as to where we eat and what we do. This year, planning did not go off
without a hitch.
We get some respite through the Advantage program (if you
are a caregiver check it out in your state it helps with a lot of things). It
wasn’t approved two days before we were to board the train, so I was jumping
through mental hoops looking for alternative care for him on Friday. Of course,
at the last minute, the approval came through. I don’t understand why something
requested weeks ago take to the last minute. It’s like they really don’t care
about our feelings – we are just a number on a piece of paper.
Then, my friend who was going to pick Chris up on Friday
night fell very ill. Before we board the train I’m trying to jump through hoops
to get someone else to take him home and stay with him the first night. It’s
all quite funny now – but it wasn’t then.
As caregivers, if we even get a break, it can feel like we
are being punished for wanting one. It takes more work to organize all the
particulars than it does to just stay home and take care of him. Or at least it
feels like it. Overall, it all went well, and he was definitely well cared for
and he did very well this time with eating and things like that. Plus, my
daughter and I had our special time together and we both got some much-needed
downtime. Overall, I’d have to say it was a juggling success. Lol.
Sometimes I wonder if God is looking down on my juggling act
and shaking His head. Maybe He is burying His face in His hands. But juggling
isn’t a one time a year thing for us caregivers. Many don’t even get that
opportunity. Day after day we juggle caregiving tasks, cooking, work, other
children’s needs, and our own needs are the pin that gets dropped while we try
to keep everything else in the juggle. I know He sees each of us and He
understands, even when He seems silent.
I’ve said many times, that God doesn’t make a convenient
exit just because life gets ugly. He never stops painting because the picture
isn’t pretty. He doesn’t stop listening when life’s song sounds out of key. 1
Timothy 2: 19 reminds us that the foundation of God stands firm and He
knows those who are His and we are still His when we become a caregiver.
Our standing with Him is not altered because life throws us a curve. He is with
us in the juggle, strengthening us and calling us His own.
Today, in the hustle, I will remind myself I am His. He has
not abandoned. He is near. My thoughts will be on His ever-abiding presence and
I will lean in to Him to hear His heart still beating for me. I’ll trust Him
with today’s juggle as I try to get back into the day-to-day of caregiving.
I’ll be grateful and purposefully thank Him for not leaving alone to walk this
journey. Will you join me?
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