Final thoughts on being an adult caretaker

So my mom has now moved back into her home with her husband (my stepfather) with 24 hour paid care. I have met 3 of the 4 caretakers. I actually really like the daytime caregiver. She takes them places and my stepfather is clean, dressed well and looks 100 times better than he did the last time I saw him. I have no doubt that she will take great care of my mom as well.

This leads me to a new anxiety. Letting go and letting someone else take over the care for my mother. Don't get me wrong - caring for my mother was one of the most difficult and life changing things I have ever done. I was tired 99% of the time and in the final weeks, I just wanted an end to it all. I've missed out on so much with my kids and basically was stuck in my house for 3 months Tuesdays through Fridays.

Despite all that, I took my role as an adult caregiver very seriously. I tried very hard to treat my mother the way that I would want to be treated if I were in her position. I didn't make her wear Depends even though it probably wasn't a bad idea. I did end up having her wear them to bed the last couple of weeks because she would forget where the bathroom was and how to go by herself. I only put clothes on her that I know she liked (my brother dressed her in a pair of jeans he bought her often...she HATES jeans and always has). I never brushed the curls out of her perm, but instead found an old large tooth comb that I had had for my spiral perms long ago. I made sure her hair was curly...and just the way she always has worn it. By the end of our time together, she claimed it as her own, so I wrote her name on it in Sharpie and put it in her bag. On St. Patty's day I loaned her a green sweater and when she declared that she loved it and thought it was such a pretty color, I told her it looked much better on her and that she could have it (it really did look better on her!) By writing all this, I am not trying to pat myself on the back. Believe me, I lost my cool and bit my tongue more than once. When she would tell my kids to "shut up", I would hold back my anger and chalk it up to an elderly person not being used to the way kids behave. My kids are loud...as is (or was) my mother...dinner time is never boring. /grin/

I believe that I could have been a much better caregiver at times, but I also believe that her time here was good for her. I will even venture to say that she misses us too. When hubby and I went to see her last Sunday (and bring her her favorite carrot cake cupcakes w/maple cream cheese frosting), she had been sad. My stepfather said our visit made her happy again and that he wanted me to come all the time. (Believe me...that's a pretty big compliment.) She asked about "her kids" and told me again how number 6 got mad at her when she would get after her. I smiled as usual and told her that number 6 was the child that she had always wished on me. My mini me!

In the end, doing the right thing is not always the easiest, but I will NEVER be sorry for doing it. I will NEVER be sorry for taking my mother with all her flaws and having the roles reversed for awhile. I will NEVER be sorry for setting an example for my children on how we are supposed to treat our parents despite what kinds of old hurts haunt us from our past. I did the right thing and I'd like to think that I grew as a person along the way.