I started this blog last year thinking that I would be an amazing caregiver and housekeeper, while trying to establish my photography business, make music, learn to cook, and figure out my future education plans at the same time. Instead, I feel like I spent the last year of my life sitting in a recliner growing older with Grandpa.
It is hard to believe we're going on 28 months since Grandpa has lost his eyesight. Many things have changed in that time - things that I can't even describe to him to paint an accurate picture. I have spent the last thirteen months with him. Preparing meals, helping with showers, telling him what channel he is on, what time it is, and constantly repeating the Brewer's schedule. My patience have been tested in more grueling ways than any exam I've had in my seven years of college.
Some days I want to kick myself for not doing more for myself in the last year. It seems like I blinked somewhere between July and January and 30 pounds magically appeared on me. My diet didn't change, but I felt so compelled to be within reach of Grandpa that I didn't take the hour out of my day to exercise. Working out was just one of the sacrifices I have made, but within the last few months I've realized that I need to take care of myself in order to take care of Grandpa.
I have no regrets about stepping up to help out. Grandpa isn't shy about telling people how lost he would be without me. When Grandma died eight years ago, I was living in Alaska and when I came home for the summer, I stayed here with Grandpa. We were inseparable. I remember meeting up with some former classmates and I didn't want Grandpa to be alone, so he came along. I'm sure he didn't have much fun sitting at Culver's for two hours listening to girls chitchat about sign language interpreting, but I only had a little over two months in Wisconsin before the drive back, so we made sure we spent every possible minute together.
Grandpa is my last living grandparent and I know our time together isn't going to last forever. I try to remind myself of this when he is sneezing loud enough for the neighbors to hear, demanding me to clean the garage (which, by the way, I still can't figure out how he knows it's messy), and constantly having me repeat everything I say several times. When I think the days can be long for me, I need to remind myself that the days are probably longer for him.
With that, I'm entering a new year. A new school year as I embark on a second degree in Addiction Studies this fall. Starting tomorrow, I will be commuting back and forth on Wednesdays for class in La Crosse. Unfortunately, class won't let out until 10, so it will be in the wee hours on Thursday mornings when I finally make it back to Grandpa's. The semester is going to be interesting and I don't know if I will have an ounce of sanity left at finals, but I can't let another year pass me by. There are days when I'm going to feel selfish, but I need that. I need that to be okay, too. Guilt-free selfishness is something EVERY caregiver needs once in a while.
