I awake to the mumbling and an incomprehensible rant that is Bertish, the newly invented language of my Bert.
For a minute I lay still hoping that it will end soon. I am so tired I cannot see. One gesticulating hand hits me on the shoulder and coming out of the half sleep-half awake state, I realize that I cannot see because it is 2:15 a.m. therefore it is dark. Duh! Einstein.
A thought insinuates: If I could have known the future, if I could have seen this part of the journey would I still have married my Bert?
I was mortified that my immediate answer was not a resounding yes. Then being me I mentally started a pros and cons list and needless to say the pros far outweighed the cons.
I thought of our life together so far and marvelled at the adventure. I knew when tragedy struck I would not have wanted anyone else beside me. We weathered the storms together and climbed the highest peaks together. We laughed, we cried, always together.
My Bert knew before I did how to transform “I” and “Me” to “We” and “Us”. It is a transformation I cherish. We did not become one but as a team we were as one. That is the glory of love.
I realized that whatever is in our future my Bert was and will be always my Bert.
Yet thoughts do not come and go in an instant, they tend to linger with me and the question lingered. It bothered me that I actually let that thought in. I made a conscious effort to look dispassionately at my late night musing.
First I forgave myself. I am only human.
Secondly I realized that being tired and at the point of caregiver burnout such a lapse was inevitable. I am not Job. My patience is limited.
Thirdly I faced the futility of the thought. No-one knows the future so the question is moot.
Then the conclusion: How wonderful that the future is hidden. The worst thing about the future is that we do not know what it will bring. The best thing about the future is that we do not know what it will bring so we can look forward to it with hope. We can dream of a brighter day.
Then, as if the universe felt my troubled state and wanted to mitigate my self- flagellation it smiled on me.
In my mailbox there was a large envelope. It contained among congratulatory messages a notification of the Heroes in the Home Caregiver Recognition Award presented by the Local Health Integration Network.
It was the right time, coming at my hour of greatest need. What a lift and how serendipitous.
All caregivers deserve an award such as this because we are all heroes in the home. We give care fueled by love to those near and dear to us, sometimes at enormous cost to ourselves.
We never asked for this particular job. It is one challenge we would gladly forgo. We just do what we must do. We have no choice. It is part of the package. It is one leg of the journey. We accept it and hope the future will be less dramatic and traumatic.
The Meander: I have been honoured because my Bert first honoured me. My nominator Ana, and the people who surround us see beyond my Bert’s dependency. They see the love. Thank you, Ana. Thank you, HNHB-LHIN. Thank you, my Bert. “YES! I would do it all over again.”