It was my Dad who came up with the idea of moving me from my home to live with my parents. Dad had been training Mom to help him. Little did we know, how sick my husband was, and he passed away less than a year of my living in my parents’ home. I wasn’t even able to say goodbye. That was in October of 2018.
Like I said, Dad was training Mom: He showed her how to use the cough assist machine, because I can’t cough on my own; he taught her how to feed me and give me my plethora of medications through my g-tube, which hangs out of my left side of my belly and goes directly into my stomach; the last thing he showed her was, in an emergency, how to put my trach back in so I could breathe. We had such an emergency when my trach did fall out.
By the time they saw what the problem was, I had passed out from lack of oxygen. Dad quickly grabbed my emergency bag and removed the extra trach, and then he pushed it into my neck. I could breathe again.
Dad was right to train Mom. Suddenly, in November of 2019, Dad passed away. That was about two weeks before Thanksgiving. His poor heart just gave out.
That’s when Mom became a Super-Caregiver. Despite her broken heart, she jumped right in and took over the care of me. Although she was scared once in a while, she never cowered and my care never diminished. You are my favorite caregiver, Mom. Thanks for the silliness, the crosswords, and the love. I’m blessed by God to have you. I love you so very much.
Matthew 19:19b – …Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself. (KJV)