a guest post written by Dean Cook with permission to share with the Happy Healthy Caregiver Community
When I was just a young boy, I remember asking Mom,
“Why does Granddad shake like that? Where does that come from?”
The time had come for her to share some things about her dad,
Why he’d come to live with them and the sickness that he had.
“Your Granddad has an illness, Son, and he can’t live alone.
I think it’s time we talked about it now that you are grown.
You see, life isn’t always fair, and sometimes things go wrong,
And when that happens, we need help, just to get along.
When folks we love get older, like your Granddad is right now,
We all pitch in to help them and take care of them somehow.”
There’s a reason we call them caregivers.
It’s hope, love, and meaning they deliver.
They breathe fresh air into your life,
A friend, a husband, or a wife,
Like those nurses in starched white,
They’ll stay awake for you all night,
They won’t give up without a fight…Caregivers.
This morning I peeked into the room and saw Mom sitting there.
Walked over to her wheelchair, reached down and kissed her hair.
Adjusted the blanket on her legs to protect them from the cold,
And recalled forty years ago the story she had told.
“Life isn’t always fair, Son, and sometimes things go wrong,
And when that happens, we need help, just to get along.”
My daughter in the doorway had heard the words I said.
I thought I’d just recalled them, but I’d spoken them instead.
She came over and took my hand and then I saw her smile.
“You go eat your breakfast, Dad. I’ll sit with her awhile. “
There’s a reason we call them caregivers.
It’s hope, love, and meaning they deliver.
They breathe fresh air into your life.
A child, a husband, or a wife,
Like those nurses in starched white,
They’ll stay awake for you all night,
They won’t give up without a fight…Caregivers.
I was sitting by the fireplace collecting thoughts from years before
And, somehow, I could tell she was standing at the door.
She looked tired but lovely in that white starched uniform.
“I just stopped in to check on you to make sure that you are warm.”
“You care for people all day long, you’ve other things to do.”
She said, “There’s nothing more important than taking care of you.”
That smile she had, I’ve always said, could melt December snow.
She added, “Here’s another thought for you before I go:
A father told his daughter once that sometimes things go wrong.
And when that happens, we need help just to get along.”
There’s a reason we call them caregivers.
It’s hope, love, and meaning they deliver.
They breathe fresh air into your life.
A daughter, husband, or a wife,
Like those nurses in starched white,
They’ll stay awake for you all night,
They won’t give up without a fight…Caregivers
Dean Cook is a retired Federal government supervisor and Navy Reserve retiree living in Martinsburg, West Virginia. Dean was diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease 13 years ago. He receives treatment at Johns Hopkins in Baltimore, MD, where he recently completed participation in a 5-year study to detect biomarkers in Parkinson’s Disease. For three years, Dean co-facilitated the Parkinson’s Support Group in Hagerstown, Maryland. He writes limericks and poems to keep dementia at bay. Dean can be reached at home2wv@yahoo.com.
