Thanks to Pete for his gracious comment affirming the need for caretakers to vent without judgment. I was moved to read it.
I was commenting to my sister on how hard it was to hear my parents with the way they keep the noise; my mother in her recliner, the TV blaring judge shows, or my father having NPR on in the car.
Part of this may be their diminished hearing, but I think a bigger part is their diminished attention. I almost always have to say interjections twice, not because they didn’t hear, but because they weren’t ready to hear. It’s frustrating, but if they don’t actually pay attention, the noise wouldn’t bother them.
Of course, I can’t not pay attention. Their diminished attention requires my enhanced attention, the way a mother looks out for her kids who may not be paying attention, and are not paying attention to the mechanics of the day, from driving to bills. I have to be focused, and their noise cuts me.
I told this to my sister, and she understood in her context. As the manager of a big box retailer with a focus on service selling, she has to pay attention in ways that few others in the store do, and for longer periods, every day, and across years.
“It wears you, I know,” she told me. “Even the humming of lights in the store gets to me, and every day it takes more toll.” We are both NLP auditories, so we primarily sense the wrld with our ears.
“You are just worn,” she said, and I know it’s true. I have been using my silicone flanged ear buds to listen to my books — Doris Kearns Goodwin Team Of Rivals right now — and while my parents are both frustrated that they have to get my attention before speaking to me, being out of the noise is great. It is the joy of the few hours a month they leave the house without me, that blessed silence.
I suspect that Pete understands this well. Our venting isn’t about whatever we are speaking of in the moment, it’s about being worn from doing months or years of “stressful, exhausting, numbingly repetitive, and often thankless” work.
It’s not about solving one problem, it’s about keeping our heads above water.
Which is why, when someone like Pete reaches out with understanding and care, it’s moving, maybe especially because I am so worn.
Of course you are worn. The caregiving itself wears away like water on a rock. It’s always on your mind, even if you have physically escaped for a bit.
I spent two decades caring for seven elders (and two children, during much of it). The physical and emotinal toll is great. Support from other caregivers is what gets us through. Please keep talking with other caregivers – for your own health’s sake.
Carol Bradley Bursack
Minding Our Elders