It's never too late to learn the value of a caregiver.
My wife is the hardest working person I know, bar none, whether it be doing a thousand chores outside and inside the house, or her behind the scenes volunteer work for our church or the Mantua recreation committee. Like scores of others who live their lives in a like fashion, she wants no credit for any of this. In fact, she dislikes credit.
But if you want someone to run an event or help out quietly, just ask. Chances are, she'll extend a hand and then work as hard, or harder, as anyone on your list. And get everything right and send everyone home happy.
Bob ShryockBut all of that pales in comparison to the harder work she enacts on an everyday basis as my primary caregiver. Believe me, I know about this.
I'm struggling mightily with my Parkinson's but she stands, in support, like a rock. She picks me up when I fall, helps me right the ship when I need my battery charged, and handles a myriad of related duties on an everyday basis. I can't fib and insist all this makes her happy, but she won't say no. She knows the curse of the caregiver.
She's willing to do all this and much more, but she doesn't pamper me. She's very tough, a tactic that enables me to function at a higher level than I'd have anticipated. She also won't allow me to feel sorry for myself for having a disease for which there's no cure. Fill the dishwasher, feed the dogs, vacuum the rugs, take the trash out, you know the routine.
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She's the major reason I'm able to continue this column. I've written before about the importance of staying active at age 77 while burdened with a nasty disease. So far, with Kathy's help, I've been able to maintain a limited three-columns-a-week schedule. They're my two lifelines, my wife and the newspaper. The challenge still exists.
On Valentine's Day, here's a cheer to the Kathys of the world. Before becoming ill, I didn't have as much appreciation for caregivers, and all they do unselfishly, as I do now. Kathy changed my thinking in an even-handed way, reminding me of all the ones who share her calling and need only a simple, occasional thank-you to navigate the bumpy ride.
In our case, being caregiver means, among other challenges, that she's also my personal cab driver because I'm now unable to drive.
It's very hard on her, not knowing when I'm going to fall and where. And, bless her, she is among the dozens of people in my life who can't understand a word I'm saying. That may be the cruelest consequence of all.
It's difficult to articulate what she means to me. In truth, I don't tell her, nearly often enough. I've got no excuses.
She means everything.
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His recent quadruple heart bypass surgery a major success, former Times columnist Jim Six prepares for Monday's cancer surgery at Cooper Medical Center in Camden.
So Jim continues his battle against two formidable foes with resolve and with enthusiasm.
"Hooray," Jim says.
And means it.
Bob Shryock may be reached at bshryock@njadvancemedia.com. Follow South Jersey Times on Twitter @TheSJTimes. Find the South Jersey Times on Facebook.