chapter eight

     One of the hardest things I have experienced while caring for my mother was accepting the fact that she would forever be totally dependent on the care and assistance of others.  For all of my life, I had been used to seeing her go, go, and go, and just like that, things changed.  One Sunday morning, I stopped by my mother’s home to eat dinner, and the following day, I got a call that she had suffered a stroke.  Things changed so fast.

     Over the past eight years, I have slowly and stubbornly adapted to meeting my mother exactly where she is.  Any success in my ability to adapt to these changes has been connected to my ability to find hope in her—I mean, our situation.  Any opportunity that I have to make her smile, I have taken advantage of it, whether it be by saying something silly or reminding her of the things that I know she loves to hear.  Seeing and feeling the joy in her smile has been therapeutic for me and her, I do believe.

     For anyone who has experienced having a loved one suffer a stroke, one that was debilitating and disabling, you may understand the bucket of emotions that accompany it.  My first response was to make life as normal as possible for my mother.  I soon realized that would be mission impossible.  My advice to others who may find themselves in this place is always to strive to make the most of each situation every day.  On some days, my mother could pronounce her words more clearly than the day before.  On other days, she seemed so drained from the effects of her brain injury that all she could do was rest.  Regardless of what was presented, I had to find a way to prepare my mind to handle it.  And I did.

     When you truly love someone, the amount is impossible to quantify.  It’s just love.  My love for my mother is absolutely unconditional, and I am committed to being there for her needs for the rest of our days together.  I have also found resolve in learning that she is really aware of my commitment to serving her, and she lets me know in her own way of appreciation.   

     I have been told that it’s not often that you find a man who cares for his mother as I do as a Caregiver.  To be honest, I am surprised to learn that more are not showing up.  I have a ton of memories, some great ones, of my mother before she suffered her stroke.  However, the memories I have created while caring for her after the stroke are so much more meaningful.  God has blessed me to be able to do something for someone that I feel like I owe the world to, and yet, they have never asked for anything in return.  That is love.