Caregiver identity is subject to change — especially if you spend years caring for a #dementia patient. Some days I barely recognize myself as the person I was at the start of my mom’s illness. This week I plan to resurrect my “old self”, if only for an hour or two. On Tuesday I’m leading a Girl Scout workshop about voting.
As the Presidential election approaches, I recall how much I used to enjoy researching the candidates and talking about political issues. Maybe it’s me — or maybe it’s the candidates — but today I’m turned off by the constant media coverage. However, I still think it’s important for young people to vote. I want to help them learn how to register. I also want to teach them how to evaluate candidates and understand their platforms.
Back in the old days, I was immersed in civic issues. The declining quality of public schools disturbed me so I got involved in education reform. These days, my caregiver identity casts a shadow over other concerns. I still worry about schools, but now I have a stronger interest in health care and services for the elderly. I want to help the Girl Scout group understand how the Presidential election can influence all these critical matters.
Me Before You
My life was totally different before I became my mother’s #caregiver. I traveled across the country and around the world as I pursued my writing career. Freedom of choice was important to me. The limits of my choices were set by my bank account and my physical stamina. Physical stamina is still an important issue, but for completely different reasons. Most of my daily energy is spent supporting my mom. I lift her, hold her, and help her all day long — and during the wee hours.
Sometimes I miss my old life, but I recognize that being a #caregiver has made me a more compassionate, loving person. When your world is focused on someone else’s well-being, you can’t avoid being changed by the experience.
Every now and then I long to feel some fragment of “old me”: racing to catch a plane or planning an international trip. This week I’ll give myself the treat of one brief hour as “old me” during the #Girl Scout workshop. Can you still remember what it was like to be the “old you”? Is there one thing you could do this week to let your former self out of the box?