Quiet memories of my parents and other loved ones this Thanksgiving day.
Karl and I were in the Milwaukee area recently and drove on roads I had not seen for some time. Yet these roads and streets were part of my weekly routine for years, when I had the privilege of helping with my mother’s care. I can picture the holiday lights in the old neighborhood.
I was flooded in a good way with all the memories, especially from the caregiving years. For the rest of my life, which is in God’s hands too, I am blessed. There is beauty during these times. Grace, love, and mercy. It was actually hard to return to everyday life. Blogs helped me a lot.
Caregiving is an art – though not always seen by the world as other efforts are. It was not easy to begin again “in the world.” Now I begin to see God’s plan a little more, and I trust. Hope and trust. Always imperfection, and accepting that. Always room to grow.
Caregivers have to take care of themselves as well. I could hear my mother’s voice after she died, “I want you to take care of yourself.” I say no more often, make sure to get the rest I need. Learning about the amount of rest I need made a great difference in my overall sense of well-being. I often wrote about this in my early years with the blog.
Grateful for this day, and happy in a quiet way. When memories revisit, I sit quietly and reflect and pray. Then, that is enough, and I do something practical. I cook, do dishes, rearrange flowers, etc. Try for some balance. Always the Psalms.
groceries for Mom
always on the list