Caregivers

There is a woman I see everyday when I walk my daughter up to meet her walking line/crossing guards for school. She has five children the oldest of which has downs. This woman and I have said hello to each other but rarely have time to chat since she is usually chasing her eldest daughter around while they wait for her bus.

I often wonder to myself why this woman had more children after the first one. I don’t know how she does it. I don’t know where she finds the energy to look after five children and one with special needs. And she does a wonderful job. Her kids are all dressed nicely, they are clean, hair brushed, polite kids. My daughter, without fail, always has a stain on her clothes and short of shellacking her hair it’s always a mess.

Don’t get me wrong I am not suggesting that this woman shouldn’t have had more children, I just don’t know, and I am in awe, how she manages.

Mother’s day is this Sunday and I suspect this woman has no idea it is coming except for doing something for her own mother. She probably has that all under control.

It takes a certain kind of person to be a caregiver. Not everyone is able to handle it. Not everyone should do it. But for those who do it is a thankless job, often with few benefits at least to the outsider.

While caring for my mother I was often run down, tired, angry, overwhelmed and broke. I don’t regret having done any of it for a moment. I wish I had done it better and with more grace but I did the best I could and I am proud of that.