 Author, Composer, Enterpreneur Jenny Leigh Hodgins and her mother, Minva Gayle Hodgins, 2017 This piece originally appeared at TheCaregiverSpace.org Listen to the podcast here.
By Jenny Leigh Hodgins I segued into the role of caregiver for my aging parent quicker than expected. Last year, I left my 30-year career, and sold my Florida home to move back to Kentucky as my mother’s caregiver. I planned to be in place well ahead of need, while I transitioned to working remotely as a freelancer. 1. LIFE’S CURVEBALLS AND SLEDGEHAMMERS Things don’t always go according to plan. Life hits with big moments whenever it damn well feels like it. Like many adult children, I face the bittersweet reality of being a caregiver to my parent before either of us are ready. I thought I’d have time to ease into the role, but sometimes health issues pop up or wallop like a sledgehammer. What a wake-up call, being there when Mom is ill, pained face, weak and trembling, incoherent and out-of-it. Alone in that moment, feeling the full burden of being responsible for her well-being can be an enormously scary place. Facing the impending reality of that final chapter in the cycle of life is not for sissies. The foreign world of medical terms, insurance and co-pays, increasingly hectic medical appointment schedule, and daily living responsibilities can add up to an overwhelming mountain of pressure. I hadn’t anticipated how my own daily rhythm would be derailed, interrupted or flat-out sacrificed at times. 2. GET AHEAD OF THE CURVE The learning curve comes swiftly, so I’ve found it best to get my game plan in place, and build my life-state to be ready to play. I’ve discovered the importance of taking care of myself. Putting that oxygen mask on myself first enables me to ward against getting overwhelmed or sick, and be better prepared emotionally, spiritually and practically as caregiver. 3. GET YOUR GAME ON That means I have to protect my daily rhythm. To be effective in my work as a writer and composer, as a caregiver, and more balanced in my wellness, I have to establish ‘me time’. I rise early to pray, eat and have uninterrupted workflow when I function at my best. I schedule exercise later in the day to maintain my energy. I use my smartphone calendar app to send me alerts so I stay, or get back on, task. Mapping out my own daily schedule and preserving it as best I can keeps me on top of things and less overwhelmed when Mom’s needs arise. 4. PLAN TO BE THERE IN ADVANCE I’m grateful to have already settled in, so I’m here when Mom needs me. Not having to rush from another state, or even across town, or leave my workplace, is one load of worry off our minds. My being in place takes some burden off my other family members who don’t have the liberty of leaving jobs, children or properties. 5. TEAM HUDDLE Keeping open communication with Mom and family members about her health, financial and social needs, as well as legal plans, distributes the caregiving load and assures Mom that we are onboard and unified to uphold her wishes. Getting things in place beforehand helps alleviate worry from all. This attempt to keep all in the loop brings us closer in harmony to one another. For the caregiver, that support from family team players is indispensable to peace of mind, providing further strength for the tasks ahead. 6. KNOW WHAT YOU KNOW Getting to know my mother’s daily rhythm gives me knowledge useful for effective emergency response. Being familiar with her usual mannerisms, daily lifestyle, energy, verbal and cognitive responses makes it easy to recognize when something isn’t right. Paying attention to symptoms early on allows early detection and an upper hand in maintaining her wellness. Knowing her doctors, appointments, medications, and health issues is powerful ammunition against mishaps, and preventative against health problems that could run undetected. ENDGAME The role of caregiver can present itself sooner than anticipated, bringing unexpected, new challenges. But I’m finding that having a game plan, a great team that communicates well, a strategy for maintaining my wellness, and tackling challenges with gusto allows me to respond well even to the hardest curveball. Feel free to SHARE this with others who may benefit from this info! You can also find me on Pinterest, Instagram, Twitter, Linkedin and Facebook! Get more inspiring content when you signup for the mailing list at YourCreativeChord! RESOURCES: Caregiver Smartphone Apps: Best Calendar Apps 10 Daily Apps to Help Caregivers Best Apps for Caregivers Free Downloadable Forms: Power of Attorney Form Will Form Advance Directive Forms National Association of Attorneys General 202-326-6000 Email: feedback@naag.org
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 Deceased members from Nicholasville High School Class of 1958. By Jenny Leigh Hodgins This story was published in Jessamine Journal August 2, 2018. Listen to this as an audio podcast by clicking here. My newly acquired caregiver role includes being chauffeur for Mom’s health appointments and evening social functions. Last night, I drove Mom to her 60th Nicholasville High School reunion (Jessamine County, Kentucky). Despite torrential thunderstorms, a tornado watch, flash flood warnings, power outages around the city, and having an odd, eye-oriented headache for the two days prior, Mom would not be deterred from attending. I drove us past dead traffic lights, waited through bumper-to-bumper, stilled traffic, and passed half a dozen felled trees and debris along the way. My cranky, neurotic complaints about the weather’s potential for disaster were ignored. Her optimism sprang eternal, as she proclaimed the weather ‘is moving away from us.’ We arrived at the community clubhouse event to see that fifty-four of the last class from the original Nicholasville High School had been distilled to the attendance of thirteen. Thirteen highly determined seniors at the ripe age of 78, some with oxygen tanks, wheelchairs, and one with an arm in a sling from a recent fall. I took iPhone photos of Mom happily greeting, hugging and laughing with her classmates from 1958 (and a commemorative group photo at the end of the evening). Listening to stories of who they had lost, husbands, wives, brothers, each gone ahead to the after-life, knocked me over the head with the reason Mom would not miss this event even for a tornado. Mortality loomed over the heart of everyone in the room, including mine. The current chapter of aging, sickness and death was written on the faces of every senior there, as their stories of health issues and loss were shared over dinner. Yet, there was a palpable strength and humorous tone in the atmosphere, too. Jokes were made about the phase of life “when getting up to go to work has changed to getting up to go to the doctor.” Boisterous laughter abounded from tables of grey or balding folks recounting days of their high school adventures. I put on my cheerful, brave face to absorb the scene, though internally my heart was struck by the grim truth of death’s inevitability. I ached to see the physical pain of some of the attendees, those in wheelchairs, struggling to chew food, those who had to sit down to save energy to speak. The sorrow was visible of those who, like my mother, had lost their beloved spouse after 50 years together. What these aging citizens were facing, some completely alone, others merely waiting to be the next to lose their loved one, was the elephant in the room that stomped on my heart. As a new caregiver, my emotions sometimes get overwhelmed with things I hadn’t anticipated; seeing the plight of the aging so closely, handling Mom’s unexpected, urgent health issues, viewing the reality of dwindling comrades from her youthful days. I’m torn between my relief that I’m here for my mother, and the fact that my own destiny as a single woman without children may lead to my being alone in that golden, final chapter of life. I’ve begun to think about things that never entered my mind before I hit fifty. My youth was filled with so much to do that I never considered how life slows down for those past retirement. Though I’m not retired—in fact, I’m plunging head-first into launching a second career I always wanted—the tempo of my life has begun to move in a dramatic rubato in sync with my mother’s life issues. This awakens me to appreciate things on a deeper level; the fortune of having a family member to live with, friends to talk to, health that is reasonably managed or at least attended to when not, the few remaining relatives around to share life stories and short luncheons. These are small, yet profound moments of joy for my mother and her peers. I get it; the tenacity and inner strength of my mother’s generation comes from surviving everything. As one of Mom’s 1958 classmates said, quoting a poem, “Love like you’ve never loved before.” They all know firsthand that the opportunity is fleeting. I got Mom in the car and pulled away just before the horrendous rainstorm pelted violently against my car. I fought to see the road ahead and drive carefully until we made our way safely back home. Sometimes fighting through the storm is worth it. *** If you enjoyed this blog, or would like to share your spiritual wellness story or tip, please let me know in the comments below. Feel free to SHARE this with others who may benefit from this info! Thank you! You can also find me on Pinterest, Instagram, Twitter, Linkedin and Facebook! Get more inspiring content when you signup for the mailing list at YourCreativeChord!       CENTER BOTTOM PHOTO:
Back left to right: Ann Thompson Nicholson, Martin Lowery, Charles Burton, John V. Carpenter, Hugh Logan Scott III, Ashley Moss, Front left to right: Linda Cobb Downing, Brenda Carter, Phyllis Miller Preston, Joann Cobb Giles, Judy Royse Cooper, Minva Gayle Morgan Hodgins, Marion Williams Not pictured: Ursula Land Lamb  Photo by Jenny Leigh Hodgins by Jenny Leigh Hodgins
I took my mother with me yesterday to a wonderful concert by Lexington Chamber Orchestra. Their concerts are always a delight. I recommend attending and supporting these fine artists. I know the value of listening to excellent quality music. You may find my article about music's positive effects on health and cognitive function in LivingWell 60+ magazine. I noticed an older couple sitting in front of us. The man was in a motorized wheelchair in the aisle, with his wife sitting at the end of the aisle. After the concert I offered to help get him up the steep aisle. My mother sat patiently waiting in the lobby. This caregiver stranger and I steered the spastic vehicle up the aisle, through the lobby, out the door, across the road and into her van. If I hadn’t been monitoring the wheelchair, it could have tipped over as we led her husband up the bumpy, steep sidewalk. Though he was strapped in, both the woman and myself wrestled to keep her six-foot-plus husband from falling out of the wheelchair. When she lowered the van ramp, it accidentally landed on the man’s feet. I lifted it while his wife pulled him backwards. Getting the chair into the vehicle was a swerving struggle. We barely managed to keep the man’s arm from getting smashed on the van door as the wheelchair lodged its left wheel into the doorway. After more struggle, we got him into the van. I helped her get the four floor-installed seatbelts hooked onto the wheelchair to keep him from rolling while she drove. I share this story as it moved my heart that this caregiver regularly does this without my help. Her devotion and love for her husband was undeniable. It was an agonizing ordeal with both of us. Yet this woman daily takes care of her husband alone, without any help from strangers like me. I said it was wonderful that she brought her husband to experience culture's therapeutic and healing power. She shared they had listened to the concert's music during their courtship and it brought back wonderful memories. We quoted lyrics from the songs to each other and laughed. I shared that her husband‘s face energetically lit up at a particular point in the concert, when the first violins attacked a new melodic theme with dynamic gusto. I said she must love her husband to go through such physical difficulty to bring him to a concert. She said when most people lose mobility, they stop going out. She was determined to bring her husband and herself to activities as long as possible. It was a short moment looking through the window of this caregiver’s experience. I’m also a new caregiver for my mother, so I’m aware of a multitude of issues that come with being an adult caregiver. But this woman’s effort for her husband, and his response to the music concert was a beautiful drama. It was a poignant statement of humanity, love, music's healing power, and the bittersweet plight of caregivers. But mostly it was inspiring and humbling. I want to be as generous, compassionate, determined, and loving as this woman is to her husband. I want to be able to do that kind of good for my mother when it’s necessary while I’m in the caregiving role. I want to take the lesson of self-care from this experience. This woman enjoyed the therapy of live music for her own wellness as well as for her partner. I want to appreciate the sincerity of care this woman is giving her husband. She is a testament to the universal nobility of caregivers. Help me show appreciation for caregivers. Like, comment and share this blog with others. You can also find me on Pinterest, Instagram, Twitter, Linkedin and Facebook! Get more inspiring content when you signup for the mailing list at YourCreativeChord! |
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