That's a big deal, people. That's
a mighty big deal--to me, anyway.
He didn't do it with an attitude.
He didn't seem
offended, as if it was something he felt was beneath him.
He didn't pout, murmur, or act as if it drained him.
He went one step
further and cleaned up the hair.
He didn't arrogantly conclude "Oh,
Vanessa will do that", and walk away, as if he had done enough.
He wasn't looking for an audience, but he had one.
I watched him vacuum with all of the glee of someone enjoying their favorite performer sing their favorite song. That simple gesture was the
epitome of consideration.
Some people show up, and don't care how their actions (or inaction) impacts a caregiver. In their effort to show the caregiver how much leeway and rights they have, they disrespect and disrupt the home of the person they say they care so much about. To them, the caregiver's efforts, feelings, and preferences don't matter. It's not the caregiver's house, so they feel they can do whatever they want. If they could roll over the caregiver with a vacuum cleaner, they would.
Some people show up, and don't care how their actions (or inaction) impacts a caregiver. In their effort to show the caregiver how much leeway and rights they have, they disrespect and disrupt the home of the person they say they care so much about. To them, the caregiver's efforts, feelings, and preferences don't matter. It's not the caregiver's house, so they feel they can do whatever they want. If they could roll over the caregiver with a vacuum cleaner, they would.
What they don't know is, when they leave, their antagonism, lack of integrity (and home training) has been duly noted, talked about, and apologized for, by the ailing or elderly person, who, fearful of loss of company of any kind, declines to address visitors about their inappropriate, thoughtless, spiteful, and often trifling behavior.
Others, thankfully, know what caregivers face each day. They know why you're in place. They've been in your shoes, and they remember how they wanted to be treated.
Others, thankfully, know what caregivers face each day. They know why you're in place. They've been in your shoes, and they remember how they wanted to be treated.
Consideration is something that caregivers treasure. Caregivers appreciate seemingly menial acts, that take stuff off of an usually full plate.
The deacon had already provided a very helpful service, out of the
kindness of his heart. Prior to the haircut, he'd taken Dad to National Harbor, for a much needed walk and a delicious meal--and he didn't ask for a dime.
Sometimes caregivers experience so little consideration and appreciation, and far too much entitlement, micromanagement, and abuse. There's also too much attitude, from oblivious people, who labor under the misapprehension that caregivers, by virtue of their presence alone, are supposed to happily serve and cater to anyone who happens to walk through the door. Some folk really do think it's that kind of party.
To some people, lifting a finger, in the home of someone who can no longer maintain his or her surroundings, the way they used to, is a sacrilege.
Sometimes caregivers experience so little consideration and appreciation, and far too much entitlement, micromanagement, and abuse. There's also too much attitude, from oblivious people, who labor under the misapprehension that caregivers, by virtue of their presence alone, are supposed to happily serve and cater to anyone who happens to walk through the door. Some folk really do think it's that kind of party.
To some people, lifting a finger, in the home of someone who can no longer maintain his or her surroundings, the way they used to, is a sacrilege.
Oh sure, for example, they'll walk the wet towels they used to the laundry room, but to actually put the towels into the washing machine, add detergent, and push a button is way too much work. It's as if they had to trek barefoot down to the banks of the Potomac, in 102 degree heat, and beat the towels against a rock. Anything resembling work is out of the question. They're visiting. They never had to do it before. They just want to sit and make themselves at home, and dare anyone to say anything. This attitude should never exist, nor persist in the home of an elderly or ailing individual. Every able bodied individual with two functioning hands should enter with an enthusiastic, "Is there anything I can do to help?" on their lips.
I thank God for those who:
I thank God for those who:
1. understand all that care giving entails
2. don't see caregivers as maids, butlers or slaves
3. seek to lighten the load, not add to it
4. bring sweetness and light, not stench and darkness
5. don't show up merely to inspect, take inventory, scope out the place, or lay claim to the ailing person's belongings
6. bring encouragement, not gossip
7. endeavor to keep caregivers connected to their interests and personal networks
8. don't deliberately make work for you, upset order, and critical routines
9. recognize the seriousness of an illness or infirmity
10. don't place their own needs, wants, and preferences over those of the ailing person
11. don't take advantage of the ailing person's resources
12. won't allow a caregiver's efforts to be sabotaged, minimized or demeaned
13. bring joy and "positivity"--not sour dispositions, scrutiny and division
14. realize that the ailing person's home is just that--a home--and not a hotel
15. understand a caregiver's dire need for rest
16. recognize that although the caregiver WILL do it (whatever IT is), one less thing to do in the course of a day is a gigantic help
17. aren't angered by, or stubborn about doing things that will indirectly benefit the caregiver.
I thank God for those who recognize that what a caregiver does each day is WORK.
To my Lisa, my cousin Frances, and my friends, Jocelyn and Danielle, thank you for remembering me this week. It meant the world...and Deacon Leroy Williams, you rock.



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