What respite looks like

This morning I am upstairs in my auxiliary bedroom / office. I have had my breakfast and coffee and am getting ready for the morning's work. 

My son stayed overnight with Mom last night and is giving care through the morning.

This means that I have breathing room. Time to think about all the life that I have been continuously pushing to the side because of the central role and responsibility of caregiving. This means I have time to recover my self, my sense of who I am, what I do, when I am not solely defined as Mom's caregiver, the person she is relying on for her health and well being.

The reason my son is completing his first overnight shift is because we, as a family, have realized the importance of sharing the burden of Mom's caring needs. My siblings are coming to terms with the shared responsibility of Mom's wellness. It is not enough to express appreciation to me for what my husband and I are doing. They also have to roll up their sleeves and absorb the impact of this work on their finances, their time, their energy.

It is too much for any one person, or even a single household, to take on the caring of another human being. They say it takes a village to raise a child. I say it takes a village to support caregiving. No one can do it alone.

So this is what respite looks like. It is knowing that there is a team of committed caregivers, all on the same page, all pulling in the same direction. Everyone knows how to clean up the commode. Everyone knows how to put Mom to bed. Everyone knows what Mom needs in the morning.

We don't have to ask for help because there are enough of us who know what needs to be done.

Respite is knowing that it is not all up to you. Knowing you are not alone and that caring is coming.