CAREGIVER DIARIES: CAST OF CHARACTERS

I appreciate helpful, thoughtful people. 

Something as simple as remembering what my Dad likes and bringing it, will make his day, and completely improve his demeanor. 

The fellow men's chorus member who cuts the grass, the deacon who comes to cut his hair, the friend who brings fresh fruit when he visits a local farm, and the family member who brought dinner, represent how much thoughtfulness matters. 

I can count the consistent people on one hand. 

I remember the time when the front door of this house may as well have been a revolving one. 

These days, other than the ringing of the phone, it's quiet around here.

I imagine that many caregivers have stories of those who don't help, but always have an awful lot to say. 

They don't bother to care whether what they hear or say is even true, and they show up every blue moon.

 

I've learned that when you identify a person's motive, and it's less than honorable, they will make themselves scarce, regroup, and try again when they think you're not around. 

(I've startled a few people just by walking up the basement stairs. "Is somebody here?") 

Opportunists, like leopards, however, don't change their spots. I've learned to have an answer when one of them asks, "Is there anything I can do?" They look downright defeated when you say, "Yes". 

The last thing they want to do is help you.

I appreciate those who will take my Dad out for a meal or a ride, even if, due to the hectic nature of their lives, I won't see them again for months. Caregivers don't poo poo on any degree of help, and appreciate a break, no matter how brief.

Some people show up, and their demeanor is that of an inspector or a supervisor. A few have been on matchmaking missions. They were the funniest of all. Young women, I've discovered, definitely do not have a monopoly on gold digging.

The occasional shade I encounter, is no big deal now. It didn't used to be funny to me. I used to be offended by the attitudes of people who acted as if we shared DNA; who showed up like bullies and always had something sarcastic or snarky to say; who were big on opinions, but lacking in effort. 

I know not to answer a fool, but I've learned when to speak up, and it's rather liberating.

It's been 15 months now, and I used to be so bothered by those who knew there was a need, but for whatever reason, had an issue with me being here. It's funny how people who do absolutely nothing to assist you, seem to launch the most intense interrogations about the things you do each day--things they don't witness. They don't know how anything gets done, but they seem to be mad that somehow, it gets done--without their help or direction.

The "Blue Mooners" show up with the intention to: 

outshine you 

upstage you 

criticize you

depress you

discourage you

humiliate you 

correct you 

assess you

interrogate you. 

They show up to find fault, and save the day. 

They find, however, that the day has already been saved, and is being saved on a daily basis. 

Meals are prepared, 

housework is done, 

business is handled, 

appointments are made, 

meds are managed--all without their assistance. 

They don't find the dysfunction, disarray--or lazy bum they anticipated. They've been told there's a problem (or they want there to be a a problem), and they take it upon themselves to show up and handle it--and you. They act as if they plan to confront and reprimand a child. 

What they could do, is wrap their imposing hands around a vacuum cleaner or rake, or cook a meal, or scrub a toilet, or fold laundry. There's no kindness in their faces. They're armed with discrepancies and false impressions. Then, they see that there is no need for their concern or attitude. They're so flabbergasted by order and competence, that it leaves them speechless--and they disappear again, until the hear the next piece of gossip, need something, or think there's something to be had.

The two people I encountered today were a perfect example. They were church folk. I'd never seen them before. They didn't even bother to share their names when I introduced myself and shook their hands. They looked at me as if they didn't expect anyone to be here! 

They stood around, looked around, looked at each other, and stuttered. 

The woman looked at me as if I had three heads. The man seemed as rattled as the woman. It seemed as if they'd planned to stay, to do something, but they suddenly declined my Dad's offer to sit down. 

Why would two people get out of their car, activate the alarm, come into the house, and just stand? 

What was their initial plan? 

What did they have to say? 

What conversation had they planned to continue? What had they planned to ask for? 

They quickly left, with bewildered looks on their faces. I've seen those looks before. I could read their minds: 

"I thought he (she. or they) said_______?"

"Why did I (we, you, they) have to ___________?"

"Perhaps I (we, you, they) owe someone an apology." 

"Why would ___________ lie?

"Maybe we should wait to ask him when she's not here."

"Maybe we should find another sucker. This one has a caregiver."

I got a really good laugh today.