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Sunday, June 14, 2015

Your Dying Spouse 18 - Meltdowns

This was my planned post today, but in a bit of of lovely serendipity, it was also the subject for my friend Anita Ojeda on her brilliant blog, Blessed But Stressed. Give her a visit, won't you? And please include her in your prayers, as she'll be facing surgery tomorrow.

We're also linked with Messy Marriage's Wedded Wednesday, and Coffee & Conversation.

When someone you love is dying, it's hard...harder for you than for me, the soon-to-be-dead dude.

I have to worry about getting through the day, and that's it. Survival is my primary focus, and to some degree I take advantage of the fact that I get a pass on some things. No one really expects me to be a scintillating conversationalist, or to be interested in their Fantasy Football achievements (what IS Fantasy Football, anyway?).

If I zone out in the middle of a conversation because I'm bored rigid, no one will call me on it.

But Barbara...oh, dear. She has to function as a caregiver, and she has to function in The World, where the death-at-your-elbow paradigm of the terminal caregiver's life is assiduously ignored. (If I refuse to contemplate death, it won't happen to me, eh?)

She's caught exactly between the transcendent and the temporal, and it's tearing her up. And she has meltdowns.

And she has the right to them, in whatever form they serve her best.

Sometimes they seem as though they're directed at me;that's natural, and it's OK. Something caused this change in her life, the ruination of her hopes to grow old with the man she loved.

Being angry at a bunch of rogue cells is a bootless enterprise, like trying to kick down a three-strand barbed wire fence.

Being angry at God works, but in the end it's not 'serious'; God knows, and she knows that God knows that it's just a temper tantrum, from His perspective. His love will wash away the tears.

In time.

But now they're flowing, they hurt, and they need a target.

In the absence of other targets, I'm it.

And that's OK, because it's my job - one of the few responsibilities still gainsayed me, in this parlous state- to take in the anger and the sorrow and the venom,and let it pass through the filter of grace.

She needs a safe place to have a meltdown at the end of the day. She needs to exercise the anger, and not keep that blind Samson shackled to a pair of columns.

I can do this.

If all of the philosophical and religious stuff I've written mean anything, if they're not just highfalutin' gas, this is the place to show it, if there's ever a place.

Dying is easy. You just get worse every day, and fight hard every moment.

Carrying those who will be alive and remain...that's hard, because it's truly the call of Christ, to live the servant's life, to accept the coming sacrifice and give it before it's demanded.

I can be the caregiver to my caregiver.

And ensure that none of us walk alone.

22 comments:

  1. Neighboring with you today at Blessed but Stressed. "Caregiver to your caregiver." What a gift. Happy to have read your words today. Blessings on your week and on your journey.

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    1. Thank you so much! It's great to have you here.

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  2. This takes humility on your part, Andrew. Not everyone can pull it off so graciously to allow their caregiver to have a meltdown, but what grace there is when they can!

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    1. When you realize how much grace you've received, Lisa...there's so much more to give.

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  3. When the time comes a grief support group will be able to help her a lot, assuming it's a good one.

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    1. Thanks, Janet. I agree. I've encouraged her to start looking before it's needed. Not ghoulish, or pessimistic...I want her to be happy for years to come.

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  4. Andrew, still praying for both you and Barbara. I think the unknown, the what will happen when... is such a scary thought, especially when someone you love is attached to it. My heart is aching for you both, friend. Of course we know Jesus is the ultimate end, but she wants you with her. And we want you with us, pain-free and healed, God-willing.

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    1. It is scary, that unknown...and she'll have to walk in the world for years yet, and knows it. Her faith is strong, but even the strongest faith can need a rest, and a safe place to cry. Even Jesus wept.

      Thanks for being here, Kim.

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  5. Andrew, I am melting down myself at your honesty. Thank you, and prayers, as always for you and Barbara (not to mention all the dogs).

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    1. Thank you, Michelle, and we all appreciate your prayers. One of the dogs went on ahead this morning, a beloved older Pit named Tammy. The house is silent, in mourning.

      Thanks for being here.

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  6. Andrew, giving freedom for those meltdowns for your caregivers is such a gift. I also think of your words and something a colleague always reminds me, "Funerals are for the living; for those left behind." It allows time to weep and grieve.

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    1. Exactly right about funerals, Tara. The living are the ones who need support, and they especially need the support, and grace and love, from the dying. They need that permission.

      Thank you for being here.

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  7. As always Andrew, you inspire; you think of the other person...in this case, your caregiver; your spouse; your love; your Barbara...she is certainly allowed to have meltdowns...in your situation, so are you! Praying with you both that God's comfort will strengthen both of you...your words - "caregiver to you caregiver"...so special!

    Thanks for sharing your heart and soul!

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    1. Barbara, thank you so much! I do have my meltdowns, too. But I try to lay them at the feet of the Lord, when I can, and give strength to my wife.

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  8. Dear Andrew, you have such a heart. She is probably exhausted and you understand.
    I am grateful that you understand your care giver at this melt down times.
    Be strong Andrew.
    Many Blessings to you.

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    1. She is strong, Ifeoma...but strength has its limits, and she needs room to grieve, and to turn to God to become the hero she always is, once again.

      I will try to be strong too...thank you for being here. I appreciate your presence, and your kindness.

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  9. "to take in the anger and the sorrow and the venom,and let it pass through the filter of grace." Wow Andrew. These words speak volumes to me, as the caregiver of my Husband. I need to remember these words as he has his meltdowns, in his journey to understand his issues and work on getting whole again, and give him Grace.

    Thank you. Prayers for you and Barbara, my lips to God's ears.

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    1. I'm so glad that these words could help you!

      My prayers are with you and your husband, as we appreciate yours. Thank you for being here today.

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  10. Prayers for both of you in this difficult journey, but what a gift you are giving her to allow her to be frustrated and angry and meltdown. Love your words, 'let it pass through the filter of grace.' How many other times should we apply that filter of grace to our relationships!

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    1. Thank you so much, Kathryn. Like forgiveness, grace is easy to receive...but it can be so hard to pass on!

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  11. I know this has to be so crushing for Barbara too, Andrew and my prayers are constantly lifted for her as well. Thank you for continuing to shine a light on an inevitable journey for all of us, but that few of us have experienced yet. There are rich gems that You both are finding and sharing--although they are cutting and ripping your hands to mine them for us.

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    1. The prayers for Barbara are especially appreciated, because her journey is really much harder than mine. I'm only dimly realizing how much.

      It's an honour to mine this, and to be able to share it. The cuts will heal, here or hereafter, but the almost stunning privilege to be among all of the wonderful people here...that's forever.

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