The Ultimate Caregiver

A friend of mine tells me he fell in love with his wife of twenty-five years when he pulled his back practicing yoga.  She is a nurse, and knew exactly how to make him feel better.  By the time of his recovery, he was smitten - ready to surrender his bachelorhood and worship at her feet.

Caregivers are important.  I don't see myself as a traditional caregiver; I manage when my daughter is sick to dig for decongestant, and direct her to the toilet if she needs to vomit, but that is about the extent of my care giving skills.  Fortunately, my own husband hates being fawned over when he is ill, and Anne Monique has a low tolerance for mommy fuss.

But there are certain people on the planet who excel at making the rest of us feel better.  There is a woman at my school, a fellow teacher, who keeps track of everyone.  She manages to call whenever anyone is sick and remembers birthdays.   My darling friend from Montana is like that.  She has a plethora of remedies in her medicine cabinet, not to mention an arsenal of patience -  she listens and prescribes soothing words as needed.  The best caregiver I've ever encountered is my mother.  She actually has a stash of mysterious, sweet smelling oils she rubs on just the right pulse points, and healing teas she gets from some magical source in Sedona.

My biggest personal source of upset is fear.  My ideas and creative capability get seriously stymied by thoughts that I'll never live up to expectations, by false mental movies of failure.  That is when the Ultimate Care Giver comforts me, usually in the middle of the night, but anytime I sit and quiet my mind.   This Care Giver reminds me that it is impossible to function in a state of fear and doubt, that only joy allows creativity to circulate.

That voice of comfort is always there for all of us, especially when we are least aware of it.  We  realize it in the quiet.  We hear it in ourselves.