I just returned from a 5-day trip to the north Georgia mountains. It was a nice getaway, with a mix of rainy days to crystal clear nights with the sky full of stars. In the past, I haven’t been able to enjoy these trips as much because I was worried about my parents as their health declined.
Back then, cell phone service was very iffy in the woods, and being able to reach them required some effort. Calls would drop often and my mother always thought I was hanging up on her, haha. (While there were many times I wanted to, I only hung up on her a couple of times in my life.)
I am always in awe of the majesty of the mountains, from the beauty of the sunsets, to the way the rains strikes the roof of the cabin to the blanket of stars overhead on a clear night. But life cycles are also on display in the mountains. The hawks swooping and soaring effortlessly overhead were seeking their next kill. I took a short hike and came across so many fallen trees. Taken out by severe weather or just old age, they will decay until they return to earth or are removed by developers looking to build a new cabin.
Sometimes it helps to watch nature do its thing, and know that many of the same rules apply to us. I think especially for those grieving the loss of a loved one, there is comfort in observing the cycle of life and how there is always something new to take the place of what is lost. A dogwood tree was just beginning to bloom near the cabin, a sign of the rapidly approaching spring; a tree stump became home to abundant fungi.
It’s these moments that I get to fully enjoy now that makes me realize how difficult it is for caregivers to truly unplug. Caregivers are always on edge, awaiting the next calamity. Even if you know your loved one is receiving good care while you are away, you never know when a medical crisis might arise. After awhile, it becomes your new normal.
I hope that my fellow caregivers will get a chance to enjoy a real respite soon.