Caregiver, have confidence!

Elizabeth Hanes — Mon, 26 Dec 2011 00:00:00 +0000

Believe in yourself! Have faith in your abilities! Without a humble but reasonable confidence in your own powers you cannot be successful or happy. – Norman Vincent Peale

I have a confession to make: I frequently feel inadequate. Acutely inadequate. As a wife, as a nurse, as a writer, as a woman, as a caregiver. Often, these feelings overwhelm me to the point I find it difficult to start or continue a project. After all, why begin something if you believe you won't do it well? Or won't even finish it?

Take this past Thanksgiving. I invited my siblings to come from out of state, and they graciously accepted. I planned a menu and some activities, but as the date approached, doubt crept in. I felt I wouldn't be able to pull off a large dinner for nine in my small kitchen. I believed my siblings wouldn't be interested in the activities I'd planned, and that they'd be bored and regret they'd come. I was afraid people wouldn't like some of the dishes I planned to serve, as I diverged from a strictly traditional meal in order to diversify the menu.

The doubt became louder as the date loomed closer. Viewing my cluttered guest room, a voice deep down scolded me for being a sloppy housekeeper. After the guests arrived, I became ill with a nasty virus, and my coping skills correspondingly declined. I had a hard time thinking clearly and not only wasn't very talkative but actually found all the hubbub annoying. I turned churlish and then berated myself for not behaving as a charming hostess. even as I tried to soldier on as best I could. Obviously, I told myself, I was a failure. Worse, it was no less than I expected.

After my guests had departed, I even chided myself for my feelings of failure. Basically, I guess I felt I was a failure at being a failure. How much more absurd can you get?!

And so, with this realization, I've decided it's time to stop wasting energy on these negative feelings. Starting today, I'm going to begin focusing on the things I do well, rather than those areas in which I'm lacking. I urge you to do the same.

None of us does everything well. And you know what? That's OK. I will never have a completely clutter-free home. On the other hand, I do a good job at keeping my bathroom clean. I'm a good cook. I'm a good listener. I'm a reliable employee. I tell (and show) my husband how much I love him. And I treat others with kindness.

Aren't those things far more important than having a clutter-free home?

This week, I'm going to ignore the fact I'm inadequate in many respects – because I'm more than adequate in many other ways, and that's what I choose to focus on from now on. I'm going to reprogram the audio tape that runs in my head so that all the negative messages are erased, and it only plays reinforcing messages. This week, I will reclaim my self-confidence. I invite you to join me.

Ho! Ho! Whoa!

Elizabeth Hanes — Mon, 19 Dec 2011 00:00:00 +0000

"Recharging is absolutely crucial for introverts." – Carl King

Recently, a Facebook friend posted a link that changed my life. Maybe it will change yours, too.

The link went to a blog post titled "10 Myths about Introverts" by writer and artist Carl King. Now, I've always known I was an introvert. Heaven knows I've been forced through the Myers-Briggs Personality Inventory over half-a-dozen times during my two decades in office management. But King's essay pointed out several things I didn't know about introverts (and, hence, didn't realize about myself), namely that introverts are a rare breed, making up just 25% percent of the population, and more importantly, that it's OK to be an introvert. I honestly didn't realize that.

If you're also one of the 25%, you'll know exactly what I'm talking about. The pressure exerted on introverts to "become" extroverted is enormous and begins in childhood. We introverts frequently are made to feel weird and different – because we are. But we're different in good ways. There's nothing wrong with how we are; we're just different from the other 75% of people.

I mention this because, as an introvert caregiver, I have particular difficulties with The Holidays. I put that in capitals because I'm talking about the year-end holiday season, the Big Holidays, not the other, run-of-the-mill holidays that occur during the year, such as Memorial Day. Those little holidays don't involve the extreme pressure to socialize in large groups (or, worse, host large groups in your home) or shop amidst throngs of people that the Big Holidays do. Caregiving is stimulating enough without all the added bells and whistles of The Holidays to send me over the edge.

So here are a few tips for my fellow introverted caregivers about how to survive the holiday season. I invite you to submit your own tried-and-true coping mechanisms in the comments section.

Shop online. One year, I did all of my holiday shopping via Amazon.com. Some people may view that as isolating. For me, avoiding holiday shopping crowds saved my coping reserves for more important events, such as the family dinner.
Don't host any large parties. Like many introverts, I enjoy socializing with my friends – in small groups or one-on-one. So, if you really feel you want to host a party, make it an intimate one with just a few close friends. And set a time limit in the invitation: “You're invited to a cocktail reception from 6:00 p.m. to 9:00 p.m.” When the ending time arrives, stand up, thank your guests for coming, and start cleaning up while you continue to chat. Your friends will get the hint.
Pick your parties carefully. If you're inundated with invitations to holiday gatherings, attend only the most meaningful one or two. And when you do attend, it's perfectly OK to be among the last to arrive and the first to leave.
Put yourself in timeout. If you start feeling overstimulated during an event – whether at home or not – find a quiet corner or go into your bedroom and close the door. Allow yourself to, as Carl King puts it, "process and recharge." It's not rude. It's a coping mechanism. You don't even need to announce what you're doing; just go away for a few minutes and then come back to the festivities. Chances are no one will even have noticed you were gone.
Encourage your caree to nap. The Holidays are stressful on our elderly loved ones, too. Whether they're introverts or not, their coping mechanisms and reserves dwindle as they age. By offering them timeouts, too, you can both get some peace and quiet to recharge and then plunge back into the hubbub. It'll be healthier for all of you.
Enlist the extroverts in your life to help. Assign specific tasks to family members: one can put up and decorate the tree (children love to do this); another can shop for that specific gift that can only be found at the mall; another can take half a day out of her vacation week to stop by and watch Dad so that you can nap, go to the bookstore to browse, or work on a craft project: whatever helps you unwind.

Being introverted isn't an illness. It's who we are. You have permission to need additional downtime, to think deeply instead of quickly, to live life on your own terms. Don't feel guilty. Since reading King's essay, I know I don't. What a liberating way to begin the new year!

It's about presence, not presents

Elizabeth Hanes — Mon, 12 Dec 2011 00:00:00 +0000

"When I look back, I recall countless hours spent perusing catalogs and stores trying to find the right gift for my mother. I also recall, as the disease progressed, watching her happily unwrapping her gifts but not understanding they were for her or what they were. What she did understand were the moments we spent together on the couch, holding hands, talking and giggling. She understood when my dad put on music and danced with her. And even if she didn't understand a joke, she understood the laughter and love that filled her home. She understood, probably better than I, that it wasn't about the stuff ~ it was about the people." – Patti Kerr, author

Recently, my friend Trevania Henderson of CaringWise posted this epigram on the CaringWise Facebook wall. It's a powerful reminder of the divergence that can occur between what we, as caregivers, value versus what our carees value as they progress through dementia or Alzheimer's disease.

As I read Patti's meditation, I was struck not only by the profundity of it but by its truthfulness, and I was inspired to tell my own story about the power of presence over presents.

My mother-in-law didn't suffer from dementia, but she did have heart disease and, ultimately, cancer. As she aged and became less able to take care of herself, I frequently assisted her. I loved my mother-in-law very much, and as her health declined I found myself, like Patti, perusing catalogs and haunting department stores looking for gifts: extravagant gifts for a woman who'd never indulged herself much. Things like luxurious bathrobes and expensive colognes. Things she would never have bought for herself. She accepted these things graciously, and I believed they made her happy.

After she died, as I was helping sort through her personal effects, I found what looked like individual diary pages scattered in various locations. Apparently, my mother-in-law jotted down journal entries on scraps of notebook paper whenever the mood struck and stuffed them in the backs of drawers around the house. While I no longer have any of these, I recall being struck by the simplicity of one I discovered that said something like, "Beth came by today and cooked buttered noodles for me. It was nice to have the company."

Really? Buttered noodles and company? Nothing about the warm velour bathrobe from Dillard's that cost a small fortune?

I learned a huge lesson that day – a lesson I put into action when I took care of Dad: It's all about the presence, not the presents.

As Dad's dementia ran with rampant abandon toward its end line in 2010, I made every effort to spend time with him, doing whatever he felt like doing. While Dad dozed in the chair next to me, I'd watch hours of baseball games I didn't care about, just so I'd be there when he awoke. Lee made Dad a large wooden step to help him get out the backdoor with his walker, and we spent afternoons together in the backyard, doing nothing more important than chatting and chopping up dead hollyhock stems for the compost pile.

Although he never expressed it, I know Dad enjoyed this time together far more than any store-bought gift I could have given him.

So, this holiday season, remember: It's not the presents, it's your presence, that makes a difference in the life of your loved one with dementia. Cherish the moments because all too soon, they'll be gone forever.

Embrace Imperfectionism

Elizabeth Hanes — Mon, 05 Dec 2011 00:00:00 +0000

My mom moved to New Mexico one year ago last month. Since then, I have cleaned her home exactly twice.

Boy, do I feel like a poor excuse for a daughter!

Today, three housecleaning services are coming by Mom's place to offer quotes on monthly cleaning. Mom likes the idea of hiring "a maid" and isn't the least disappointed that her own daughter isn't taking care of the housework. So why do I feel like such a loser?

When Mom and Dad lived in the family home in Colorado, I had no issues regarding cleaning their house. I regularly traveled from Albuquerque to visit them and clean for them. It was too much for Mom, keeping track of all of Dad's doctor appointments and his medication regimen, doing the grocery shopping and cooking, and trying to take care of herself, too. So, I'd drive the five hours – at first, a couple of times a year; as things deteriorated with Dad, more frequently; finally, once a month – and I'd dust and vacuum, clean and scrub, sweep and mop. I won't lie: it left me exhausted.

But now Mom lives a mere couple of blocks away. I've calendared a cleaning regimen for her house that's far from arduous: each Monday I'm scheduled to perform one or two tasks, so that her whole house gets cleaned every month. In total, I would only be spending, max, an hour per week on housework at her place.

Yet something inhibits me from actually doing it.

A wise friend, Rosie, points out I'm suffering from Superwoman Syndrome. I want to be the perfect wife, perfect daughter, perfect employee. I expect to dispatch every household chore with alacrity and handle every professional and social duty with aplomb. She says I don't give myself enough credit. She also points out I'm still grieving my dad, holding down a stressful job, and am just concluding a turbulent 12 months that turned my life upside down. Rosie says I need to cut myself some slack.

A new friend, Trevania, thinks the challenges caregivers face today share characteristics with the early era of the working woman, when wives entered the workforce yet still were expected to perform all their usual parental and household duties. I think that's a great analogy. Superwoman was born in that era, and now she's re-emerging in the new era of the Sandwich Generation.

I think both women are right.

It pains me to admit this, but... I'm no superwoman. And I don't want you to be Superwoman (or Superman), either. It's not healthy.

And so, today I resolve to let go of perfectionism and instead embrace imperfectionism. I will freely admit that I cannot do all and be all for everything and everyone. I will give myself credit for all the positive contributions I do make, to my husband, my mom, my job, and myself. I will allow myself to feel positive instead of feeling guilty. I will stop beating myself up for the many ways I fall short and instead credit myself for the many ways I measure up, not only as a caregiver but as a person. Let's make this our mantra from now on.

Weigh in: Do you feel compelled to be Superwoman (or Superman)? How does it make you feel?

5 Great Gifts for Caregivers

Elizabeth Hanes — Tue, 29 Nov 2011 00:00:00 +0000

Caregivers deserve to receive great gifts – not only at the holidays, but all year long: Trinkets that say "thank you," "great job," and "you are loved." That last one is especially important. Family caregivers so freely give their love away that you need to share your love with them in order to replenish their well.

That said, it's true that the holiday season tends to be the time when most gift-giving takes place. And while many types of gifts, such as luxurious bath salts, will warm any caregiver's heart, I've rounded up five things I believe will make a real impact on a caregiver's quality of life.

Totally Together: Shortcuts to an Organized Life by Stephanie O'Dea. This weekly planner goes beyond being a mere calendar. In the first 44 pages, O'Dea shares her “clean less, play more” strategy for maintaining a clean, organized home. The weekly planner pages allow enough room to jot down important appointments and also include a checklist of tasks to be done daily and weekly. The back section of the book contains a rudimentary shopping list and meal planner. I like this little book because it's small enough to fit into a purse (so you can keep it handy at all times) and it keeps things simple. On the minus side, it's geared more toward moms with children at home, and any family caregiver (particularly dementia caregivers) knows O'Dea's "clean it right now" approach doesn't always work. Still, for folks who prefer pen and paper to app and keyboard, Totally Together definitely fills the bill.
Self-Care for Life: Find Joy, Peace, Serenity, Vitality, Sensuality, Abundance, & Enlightenment – Each and Every Day by Skye Alexander, Meera Lester, and Carolyn Dean, MD, ND. As you know from reading this blog, I'm all about self-care for caregivers. This book takes a holistic approach to self-care. As the authors say in the introduction: "Self-care isn't something you do once a year at a spa. And it isn't something you do a few times and then drop. It's a commitment you make to yourself each and every day." I couldn't agree more. In 365 pages, Self-Care for Life gives you a daily dose of self-care for mind, body, and soul. Each page provides an inspirational quotation, a theme for the day (such as “Reduce Annoyances”) and then offers actionable tips in three categories: Mind, Body, and Spirit. Personally, I find some of the tips and categories a little new-agey for my taste ("Bring harmony to your home with feng shui"), but for the most part I give the authors kudos for including easy, inexpensive ways for family caregivers to make self-care a daily habit.
Just Chill natural stress reliever. Looking for an interesting stocking stuffer for the stressed caregiver on your list? Just Chill is a carbonated beverage I like to call the anti-energy drink. While I'm skeptical about the value of taking supplements on a regular basis, I do think there are situations when a "chill pill" is just what life calls for. I received a complimentary four-pack of Just Chill from the manufacturer and distributed three of the cans to friends, to get some feedback. And, of course, I tried a can myself. All of my friends noted that they felt relaxed about half-an-hour after consuming Just Chill. I noticed this, too. Placebo effect? Maybe. But I didn't give my friends any info in advance about what the produce was (in fact, one of my friends thought Just Chill was an energy drink and expressed disappointment that it didn't rev her up more). Well, for caregivers relaxed is a good thing, so I give Just Chill props for delivering on that claim. I sampled the “Tropical Chill” flavor, and it was fizzy and lemony tasting, with a hint of ginger. One of my friends said the beverage was “too gingery” for her liking, but the rest of us enjoyed it. Just Chill mainly contains vitamins: Bs and C, to be precise. But not in mega quantities, which makes it safe for most people to consume. It carries 50 calories per 8.4 fl oz serving. All in all, the reviews of Just Chill were positive, so I'm recommending it as a pleasant way to de-stress during harried days. It's available in 4-packs at Whole Foods Markets.
The Way of the Happy Woman: Living the Best Year of Your Life by Sara Avant Stover. Here's another book that focuses on self-care. Stover's book takes women back to basics with a plan to recapture harmony in life by living in accordance with the seasons, the way our ancestors did. As you might expect, the meat of the book is divided into four sections based on seasons. Using this organizational strategy, chapters within each season guide you with information and activities to help you reclaim your natural rhythms. The book strongly emphasizes yoga, with long, illustrated sections for each season. This was a turn-off for me because I'm not able to do yoga, but yoga aficionados would love this aspect of the book. Beyond yoga, the book also offers tips (it's cheaper and healthier to buy in-season produce), anecdotes (the author making jam with her sister), and points to ponder (exercises for reflecting on the many moods you experience). For the caregiver who's interested in the seasonal connection to womanhood and reclaiming a natural life balance, The Way of the Happy Woman makes an excellent guide.
Alef Bet by Paula jewelry. What caregiver wouldn't feel cherished when receiving jewelry this holiday season? Alef Bet jeweler Paula creates Judaic and modern jewelry fashioned from sterling silver and fine gold. Yet these pieces are affordable. One appropriate piece for any caregiver, the Tree of Life necklace, crafted of sterling silver with gold plating (in three sizes, starting at $35), speaks to the caring passed from parent to child and back to parent. Alef Bet also creates beautiful Hebraic jewelry for the Jewish caregiver. The Mazel Bendel Bracelet ($50) is said to bring good luck when the string starts to fray. What a great excuse to wear it every day! Paula also crafts custom jewelry for that very special person on your gift list.

So there you have it. Five grand gifts for any family caregiver!

Disclosure: Except for the jewelry, all of these items were provided to me free of charge for review. I've given my honest opinion of each one and have not included any affiliate links to products.

Daily Routines: Write Them Down!

Elizabeth Hanes — Mon, 28 Nov 2011 00:00:00 +0000

I think routines represent a crucial element for family caregiver success. Routines ground us. And by "us," I mean both caregivers and the loved ones they care for. However, it's easy to stray from routines. Flexibility is one thing; abandoning routines is another.

One way to avoid abandoning routines is to write them down. You may laugh (I say this frequently), but I write down my routines. I have a morning routine, an after-work routine, an evening routine, and other routines based on activity or schedule. By writing them down, I avoid the burden of carrying them around in my brain. I don't know about you, but my brain is overtaxed as it is. My brain doesn't need one additional thing taking up space. Pen and paper work much better for tracking routines, in my opinion.

My routines reside in a 3-ring binder. I type them up, print them out, and then place them inside plastic page protectors. This allows me to use a dry-erase marker to check-mark the items I've accomplished in my routine.

Let me give you an example of my evening routine, which is one of the more important ones in my life:

30 minutes before bedtime, turn on the electric blanket (in the winter)
Choose clothes for work the next day and hang them (including underwear, socks, bra) in the bathroom
Check the pets' food and water bowls to make sure they're full
Check tomorrow's dinner menu and take meat out of the freezer to thaw, if required
Prepare tomorrow's lunch items and group them in the refrigerator or put them into the lunch bag (for items that don't require refrigeration)
Check calendar for appointments
Communicate schedule information for tomorrow with Lee
Check e-mail, social media, and discussion group threads and post final responses of the day
Shower (how sad I have to put that on my list!)
Take evening medications
Go to bed and read a favorite magazine for 15-30 minutes

When Dad lived with us, I also included:

Lay out Dad's clothes for the next day
Make sure pill boxes have been replenished (on Sundays)
Get Dad's lunch for tomorrow assembled and labeled
Put Dad's daytime pills in pill cups for tomorrow and label them as to time to be taken
Check calendar for medical/dental appointments
Remind Dad of hired caregiver routine for tomorrow

The list may look extensive, but by writing everything down I am able to complete the individual tasks efficiently. The entire nighttime routine only takes me 20-30 minutes. But the major benefit is not having to carry it all around in my head. I love not having to memorize a routine – especially when it changes frequently. As it changes, I simply type up a new sheet and then go through it step-by-step each evening. My stress level goes down, and the household runs smoothly. That's a 'win,' to me.

Weigh in: Do you write down your daily routines?

Find the Real Riches in Your Life

Elizabeth Hanes — Mon, 21 Nov 2011 00:00:00 +0000

"Happiness is making the most of what you have, and riches is making the most of what you've got." ~Penelope Keeling, The Shell Seekers

As the caregiver of an elderly person, I think about money frequently: hers, mine. Caregiving can be an expensive experience, depending on the financial means of the person being cared for. Luckily for me, my mom has enough cash to, I believe, live out her life in a fairly comfortable manner. Other caregivers aren't so lucky. For them, money issues cause huge stress not only for themselves but within the caregiving relationship. So, today I ask: Does money buy happiness when it comes to caregiving?

I've always loved the books of Rosamunde Pilcher. Her novels tell the stories of ordinary people working through the problems life throws at all of us: family relationships gone sour; unexpected deaths of loved ones; unrequited romance. In short, I relate to the people in Pilcher's novels. I could be one of them, and the fact they solve their life problems gives me hope for solving my own.

In The Shell Seekers, protagonist Penelope Keeling deals with a son who's a bit of a gold digger. He wants his mother to live as frugally as possible in her old age so that he can inherit the maximum share he's entitled to. He feels entitled because he experienced a frugal upbringing. Penelope's husband left her to raise three children alone at the end of World War II. While the family didn't have much in terms of material goods, they did enjoy a loving and cheerful home, where friends frequently stopped by to share meals and play games and dance to music from the gramophone. And whenever Noel, the son, complained about his lack of expensive clothes or private schooling, Penelope would often break out the aphorism above:

Happiness is making the most of what you have, and riches is making the most of what you've got.

When Lee and I were newly wed, we didn't have the proverbial "two nickels to rub together." We were terrible money managers, constantly paying the phone bill this month and the gas bill next month, always a month (or two) behind on everything. On the other hand, we had lots of friends, and we experienced many a Friday night when people would gather at our house, bringing a covered dish, and we we'd all break bread and play games into the wee hours. Despite our stressful financial situation, we enjoyed many happy times.

It wasn't until I re-read The Shell Seekers a few years ago and reflected on those early days of marriage that I finally understood this is what Penelope Keeling was talking about. It's not having a lot of money that brings happiness. It's making the most of what money and material possessions you do have, regardless of how meager they may be. Real riches comes from the intangibles: friends, enjoyable activities, time spent doing something meaningful.

So, I leave you, my fellow caregivers, with this thought today: Find the riches in your week. Caring for a loved one is tough work. If you're also struggling with financial issues, spend this week seeking out opportunities to get back to basics: spending time at home with friends, playing games, listening to music, having a pot-luck. Don't let money problems overshadow the true riches you have in life.

Save Money on Food

Elizabeth Hanes — Mon, 14 Nov 2011 08:00:00 +0000

We all gotta eat, right? And many caregivers feed not only themselves and their children, but also their parents. If your parents can't afford to contribute to the food budget, it can wreak financial havoc on your checking account. These tips will help you eat affordably and reduce the caregiving stress related to budget issues.

Plan menus and cook at home.
Yes, I know it takes time, but I've found over nearly 30 years of menu planning that our household eats only 20-25 different meals 90 percent of the time. I'll bet the same is true for your family. So, get some index cards and jot down your favorite meal combinations (not recipes, but meals – such as: Turkey sandwiches and tomato soup; pot roast with mashed potatoes; grilled chicken with green salad; etc.). Try to create 20 or 30 dinner menus first, then branch out to lunches. Put the cards in a file box, and simply deal yourself a menu each week. Need inspiration? Check out The Cheerful Caregiver's companion blog, Nourish the Caregiver. Twice a week, I share recipes and cooking tips to help busy, exhausted caregivers get a delicious meal on the table.
Invest in a slow cooker.
You'll spend $20 to $40 for a good one of the size you need for your family, but the payoff is great -- and not only in dollars and cents. First, you'll save money by creating meals from cheaper cuts of meat. Second, you'll be able to take advantage of meat sales because you'll be able to prepare bulk batches of things like spaghetti sauce with hamburger, shredded chicken or pork for enchiladas to throw in the freezer. In turn, having these items tucked away will help you get a meal finished quickly. Finally, it's incredibly de-stressing to remind yourself in the middle of a hectic workday that you don't have to cook when you get home because something delicious is simmering in the slow cooker!
Shop from a list.
There's nothing new about this tip. Study after study shows that sticking to a list reduces your overall grocery bill. Use your menu-plan index cards to help you create a concise list, and stick to it! For best prices on produce, create a separate list for fruits and veggies and shop what's in-season at your local farmers' market. If the mere thought of putting together a grocery lists adds to your exhaustion, consider using one of many available meal-planning software programs that automatically creates a list for you, based on what meals you've planned for the week.
Eat out only when you have a restaurant coupon.
Everyone needs a break from cooking now and then, whether it's for a fancy dinner or just an ice cream cone. With the plethora of websites dedicated to coupons, there's no reason to pay full price when you dine out. And don't feel uncomfortable using a coupon at even the fanciest of establishments; they're the ones who offer the deal. You're merely taking them up on it.
Don't redeem that grocery coupon – unless you're positive it's a great deal.
Unless you have the time to become an extreme couponer, chances are you'll find a store brand or generic product that's cheaper than any brand-name product, even with a coupon, and sometimes even if you factor in doubling. If you routinely use only brand name products for certain items (I admit I'm a die-hard Heinz ketchup fan), you definitely should clip those coupons when you see them. Otherwise, skip it.

Family caregivers have enough things to worry about without devoting extra thoughts to the food budget. By following these simple strategies, you can focus on the important things and rest assured that your budget's intact.

Are We Broke Yet?

Elizabeth Hanes — Mon, 07 Nov 2011 00:00:00 +0000

In 2010, my friend Elizabeth Shean caused a bit of a sensation when she dared to discuss the hard costs involved in caring for an elderly parent. Shean took her father into her home and was unprepared for the real dollars-and-cents impact it would have on her and her husband's finances. But elder care can be an expensive proposition, and saying so doesn't mean we love our parent any less. It's simply a fact.

Taking care of a loved one with dementia or physical incapacity can be expensive. Let's dare to speak out loud about this and admit the stress caused by seeing our finances drained even as our stamina and emotions also take a beating.

And once we've felt the relief of our admission and released the guilt involved, let's look at ways to reduce the stress money issues cause so that we don't grow resentful of our loved ones or burn out financially.

Even though I don't have to pay any of my mom's expenses (for which I'm grateful), my personal finances have taken a toll since she moved nearby. For nearly 30 years, Lee and I have lived our lives alone, just the two of us, and we've been fortunate to have experienced a bit of financial freedom along the way. Since Mom moved nearby, however, we've seen our monthly budget take a hit. Mom loves to dine out, and she likes one or both of us to accompany her. Our budget isn't set up to accommodate that. But I dote on Mom and hate to say no to her. Consequently, I've been overspending our restaurant budget. And that's not the only thing.

Mom and I spend every Monday together. We usually go grocery shopping, eat lunch out, then do something fun like visit a museum or browse a bookstore. Normally, I chauffeur us on these outings. That's a significant gas expense. So, guess what? I've been overspending our monthly fuel budget, too.

To correct for these budget overages, I started 'borrowing' money from other budget lines: health insurance deductible, vacation, home improvement. Our finances started looking a little precarious. At the very least, I can say our financial picture didn't look as comfortable and robust as it did before Mom came to live nearby.

I finally came to the conclusion I needed to put Lee's and my finances first. If I didn't, I knew it would cause problems in my marriage and also between Mom and me. Those were the last things I wanted.

So now, on Mondays, I still chauffeur Mom and me around town – but I do it in her car (which is fine with her). And we still eat lunch at restaurants regularly – only we scour the web and the Sunday paper for coupons to reduce the cost. Sometimes, we even split a plate. Not only is our budget looking healthier, but I feel less stressed about money. I don't feel I'm compromising my future by taking care of my mom.

I'm not sure people realize the financial impact on caregivers that caring for a loved one has. That's why I'm here to spread the message to all my caregiving friends: It's OK to put yourself first. If the caregiver doesn't take care of herself, she won't be in any position to care for her loved one. And that includes finances. So let go of the guilt and look after yourself, OK?

Attaining 'Repose and Calm'

Elizabeth Hanes — Mon, 31 Oct 2011 00:00:00 +0000

"If you can attain repose and calm, believe that you have seized happiness." – Jeanne Julie Eleonore de Lespinasse

I'm typing this during a tranquil Albuquerque morning. It's not yet 8:00 a.m., sun filters through screens into my porch, mourning doves coo and croak in the plum tree outside. Cool air and black coffee induce a peaceful calm within me.

It won't stay this way. Within the hour, my mom will call to let me know she's up and ready to go. Monday is "Mom day" in my world; when she came to live nearby, I committed to spending every Monday with her, since I'm off work that day. And Mom likes to wring every moment out of our day together, from going out to lunch to window shopping for things we don't need. To me, it's a bit exhausting, but I try to remind myself of Dad's mantra: If you agree to do something, do it cheerfully.

Frequently, though, cheer eludes me; the heat and bustle of Mondays with Mom can make me cranky. It's these quiet moments, these still, early morning minutes of solitude I steal for myself, that enable me to get through the day. I force myself not to think ahead but to meditate on this peaceful feeling, as if I'm filling a reservoir of tranquility inside me from which I can sip during the hectic day.

Soon enough, the phone will ring and our plans will be laid, and we'll plunge frantically into traffic together to get our errands run. But not now.

I remind myself to be thankful my mother can still get around on her own. That she still has her mental faculties intact (for the most part). That the dementia seems to be progressing slowly. I remind myself to be grateful that, right now, Mom and I can share real quality time together.

I remind myself of these things because I remember the way it was, a little over a year ago, when Dad suddenly and sharply declined, losing memories by the day, until he couldn't even recognize himself in a photograph. And I remember how coping unraveled from a month-to-month thing to a week-to-week thing, and finally a minute-to-minute affair. I remind myself how I couldn't keep up, emotionally; how I thought I'd never make it through Dad's dying process; how I felt the tiniest of stressors was going to send me over the edge; how I couldn't possibly cope with any of this for one more minute.

But I did.

We all do. Somehow, nearly all of us caregivers find that strength to go on – for one more month, for one more week, or for one more minute. How we do it remains a mystery. But one thing I know for sure: It requires the occasional oasis of calm to create an ocean of tranquility.

I hope today you'll be able to steal a few moments of calm and repose to help you stay centered during your stressful caregiving journey. I hope today you'll indulge in that bubble bath or take that long walk or do whatever it is that provides you with that brief window of respite that allows you to carry on. For one more minute.

Recent Posts in 'The Cheerful Caregiver' | Caring.com