Welcome to Street Prophets Sunday Coffee Hour. This is an open thread so grab something to drink and sit a spell and let us know what is new with you. As anyone who has ever been a caregiver knows you have to be a magician at times.
I have been a caregiver twice for a total of twenty years of my life. Almost one third of my life was spent taking care of others. I was caregiver for my Mom for six years. I gave up my independence and took a job I hated to move in and care for her.
I knew growing up that I was Mom's least favorite child. I wasn't feminine enough. I wanted to be an artist not a homemaker. As far as she was concerned all I was good for was babysitting my younger brothers.
I will never forget hearing her tell a friend, "Michael is so smart. If Michele wants good grades she really has to study."
The irony was that when I took the standardized IQ test I got 180 and yes that is genius. I was in the top 1% of the SAT tests. I was the first in the family to graduate from college. Her precious Michael flunked out of college his first try.
One quess who gave up her life for six long years to be her caregiver. It sure wasn't any of her much preferred sons. To be fair they were married and had careers of their own. Still they could have paid more attention to her. She was still taking care of Michael. It was only at the end of her life that she realized that I had worth.
I was my brother Reid's caregiver for twelve years. He was the child who fell through the cracks. He had two failed marriages. He was an EMT. He was a brittle diabetic who neglected his health.
I brought Reid out from California. He was 95 pounds and his diabetes was out of control. I got his weight up to 130 and got the diabetes as under control as possible. I have a whole cookbook of heart and diabetic friendly recipes that I created while taking care of him.
I lost track of the number of times I fed him Karo syrup when his blood sugar would suddenly drop. His doctor once told him, "You don't realize what an angel she is."
I still laugh about his coming out. He was very serious and said, "I have something I have to tell you. I'm gay." I'm afraid my response was, "I've known that since you were in high school. What do you want for lunch?" Really I didn't mean to ruin his big cathartic moment.
Unfortunately years of neglect took a toll on his health. He was in and out of the hospital constantly. He was always getting pneumonia. Thirty-eight years of heavy smoking damaged his health.
Sometimes you run out of rabbits. I couldn't pull him through that last illness a year ago. I know he is no longer suffering but I do miss having him around. Financially I have been reduced to poverty without his income.
The problem with being a magician is that there isn't an unlimited supply of rabbits. I wish I could have pulled one more rabbit out of the hat.