which is my primary occupation at this time, even as I may poke around online to look for possible sources of additional income in the future.
My focus is my beloved spouse, Leaves on the Current. Everything in my own life now becomes secondary to meeting whatever she needs, or things she needs - I am no loner going to judge whether it is relevant or necessary, because the real demands of the situation are on her.
This is a real change, for both of us. I am stubborn, and can be very self-centered. I can probably make a persuasive argument for doing what I want in most circumstances. Now that cannot happen.
We know there will be ups and downs as we go through this process. Right now is a down period - having just finished the 1st two weeks of chemo, she is entering what our nurse educator for the class on chemo told us would be the nadir - less energy, food not as appealing.
It is important she eat. Whatever she wants, I will make or buy to ensure she gets nutrition.
If there is a seemingly silly request, I will honor it, to hold her up, to affirm her.
And there is more.
She has always had some trouble with time - being on time, getting through things (in part because she is a perfectionist). In the past this would very much annoy me, and I would allow my pique to become the dominant emotion.
Now? I am incredibly grateful for whatever time we do have.
This morning I was up early. The "snowquester" had not really started, and I would have loved to go off to Starbucks to sit, read, and write - the last is far easier to do when surrounded by people (it serves as white noise and also keeps me from feeling isolated) and not being called on by cats. But to do that I would have had to waken her to put on Gregor, her back brace (which she must have on even to go to the bathroom). She was sleeping comfortably, not having gotten to sleep until after 1 AM, and as much as I wanted to head out, her needs were more important.
Now I sit in my living room, glancing out at the increasing snowfall, now starting to stick to the pavement. I have public sidewalks on both sides of our property which I will have to keep clear - county ordinance, and besides, it is the neighborly thing to do. I enjoy shoveling snow (yes, I am crazy). But I have a sprained wrist, and I also cannot afford to hurt myself or overly stress myself (I am 66) because then who would be here to meet her needs?
Too often in the past when I have considered what it would mean to be a care-giver, I thought about it as a burden, an imposition, a limitation.
Now I know better.
Now I know it is a honor, a blessing, a gift.
SHe is two rooms away, asleep. When she awakens, the first thing will be to take her blood sugar to see if insulin is necessary. In theory she could do all the steps of testing on her own, but it is enough of a burden for her to prick her fingers and squeeze - I will have the strip in the monitor, make sure the blood gets on it and we get a reading. It is my way of participating in this with her.
Many people have told me of the importance of taking care of myself while I serve as a care-giver. My beloved is insistent upon that as well. She was not up to going out to dinner last night with my college friend and his wife, where he has lived with the same kind of cancer for 9 years. She was insistent I take time for myself and go spend time in a political setting that was important for me in terms of making connections to advocate on behalf of education and teachers. When I came home she wanted me to share so it was a part of our joint experience.
Yes, I will make certain I eat, exercise, pace myself, and all that. I am taking my own medications for high blood pressure and high cholesterol. I have to be careful to maintain my own health so that I not jeopardize hers - on chemo she has a suppressed immune system.
But I find I best take care of myself by focusing on Leaves, on my beloved, on keeping her comfortable, on helping her keep a positive mind. Maybe it is just some more of my atrocious puns (although she would claim the adjective is a redundancy). Perhaps it is by sharing something I know will interest her. Perhaps it is simply attempting (usually without too much success) our most independent-minded feline that jumping on my beloved or using Gregor as a scratching post is not the best idea.
Our cats need to cuddle. In the past my wife would be far more likely to lie still and let them crawl all over her. Now? Well as I write this I am in a somewhat awkward position because our oldest and largest (17 pounds) cat has decided I need the warmth of his body against mine, and as long as he stays here he will not try to crawl up on her.
I have tried to frame much of what I have done in my life as being of service - certainly my teaching falls into that category. So does much of my writing.
I thought I knew what real service was. I didn't.
I am beginning to learn.
That is how being a care-giver is a blessing to me.
I am growing - certainly in patience, but of greater importance in realizing my own capacity to love.
For which I am grateful, even if I do not accept the cancer itself as a blessing.
It is a teacher, for both of us, this cancer.
Perhaps now I am ready to learn the lessons it has to offer me.
The snow is white, covering the somewhat bleak landscape with its whiteness.
Only traces of the black pavement of the street in front of our house is now visible.
There are still some sounds of traffic, although far less than would be normal at this time of day.
When a couple of inches have accumulated on the sidewalks I will go out and push it off, perhaps spreading some snow melt to help keep them clear.
It is a simple task, one that can be done mindlessly - with one's focus elsewhere.
Like all simple tasks, when given attention it can become something almost holy. St. Benedict in his rule instructs his monks to treat the ordinary implements (of garden or kitchen) as if they were the sacred vessels of the altar.
Carrying that thought forward, there is teaching among the Ancient Greeks that the visitor one encounters could be a God in disguise.
In Genesis Abraham bows down before the three angels who appear at his home and speak with one voice - those three angels becoming for Andrei Rublev the visual representation of the Holy Trinity in his famous icon.
As a Quaker I believe in answering that of God in each person.
At least I say I do.
For that to happen I have to be willing to seek out that of God, not to take any person for granted in my dealings with him.
Now I am a care-giver to my wife. For now that is my role towards her. Perhaps at some point the roles will be reversed, or perhaps we will as we should be learn how to be care-givers for each other even when neither is in medical crisis.
As an Orthodox Christian her belief is that the surest icon (image) of God is the human being before her. That can be a challenge. Certainly when the human being before her is her impatient and too often overly critical husband.
Patience.
I am no longer religious in a traditional sense, but I understand that whatever God there may be certainly must have patience with humanity giving all of our failings.
We have never been parents, but have been close enough to children through our sibling and through my teaching to understand the requirement of patience in that kind of care-giving. One reason I like to sit in Starbucks is to watch parents caring for their children, and among the regulars are a few husbands who are the primary caregivers for their small progeny.
Now I know being a care-giver is an honor, a blessing, a gift.
It is something to be shared, not in pride, but in humility.
It is a gift to be passed on in any fashion possible.
So I offer these few words, thoughts of a person still learning what it means to love.
Peace.