Do you ever feel like getting someone to help you with a project, or seeking counsel when you\u2019re stuck in some way, is a sign of weakness? To some people, if they can\u2019t figure out a problem by themselves they think they have failed. This type of person seems to believe that they should be able to handle anything. If you feel this way from time-to-time you know the kind of emotionally and physically stress it can put on you. I know. I\u2019ve been there. My name is Terry and I\u2019m a \u201crecovering independent-holic!\u201d<\/p>\n
I remember how I felt when I began caring for my aging father. Before I was able to get a county aide in several times a week, and prior to when I was able to arrange hospice care, I was his primary caregiver living nearly 200 miles away from him. I traveled over three hours in one direction to get from our house to his apartment across the state. I spent the day grocery shopping, cleaning, doing laundry \u2026 and listening to him complain about the way I did just about everything. In between visits I worried constantly about whether or not he was okay.<\/p>\n
I quickly learned that although he needed my help he also needed to be in charge. By having him come out to the kitchen and tell me where to place the groceries I\u2019d just purchased he became more involved with his own care. That helped him to better deal with his situation, but it did little for me. I still found myself feeling inadequate, as if I should <\/em>be able to anticipate his needs and provide for him before he asked.<\/p>\n He wasn\u2019t the first person needing hospice care that I\u2019d assisted. One of my first ministerial assignments began in 1989 when I became director of visitation for our church, providing services for people with HIV\/AIDS in various Los Angeles hospitals and hospices. When I began caring for my dad I was already an experienced minister, had just received my first licensed as a social worker, and had a master\u2019s degree in that field. In my mind these facts only upped the ante for me to set higher standards for myself than I was capable of attaining. Surely I should know how to handle this!<\/p>\n Well, I didn\u2019t. I had all that prior experience, training and expertise that was useful in caring for strangers and teaching others, but precious few of those tools made sense to me when I looked at my own father. After three months of eighteen-hour days once a week I sat at his feet in front of his recliner, looked up at him and said through my tears, \u201cI don\u2019t know now to do this. I just don\u2019t know how to do this anymore.\u201d He just stared at me. I told him I was doing my very best, but nothing I did seemed to be good enough. I told him I felt like I was completely failing him in providing for even his basic needs. I suggested he find someone who could help him the way he wanted, because I was tired of crying all the way back home every week and feeling helpless about it.<\/p>\n He started crying. My vulnerability and refusal to think I had all the answers opened the door for him to admit how useless he felt, how angry he was that he couldn\u2019t do even the simplest of tasks for himself, and how much he resented having to rely on the son he felt he\u2019d failed as a father. After 50-plus years of being at odds with one another I honestly think I felt our hearts crack open. It was a breakthrough moment for us both. Over the next three years we still had our differences and disagreements (many quite unpleasant for one or both of us, if you must know!), but most of the time we worked as an interdependent, symbiotic unit to direct his care until he passed quietly one morning.<\/p>\n