Trees Do Bend, Though Straight and Tall

Sooner of later, someone you care about will need to be cared for. Maybe because of illness or injury. Maybe because of a financial crisis or a natural or sudden disaster. These things happen, and they don’t discriminate. It could be a parent or a spouse. It could be a young or adult child. It might be a sibling or a close friend or a neighbor or cousin. Eventually, you will be called upon to provide care for someone else.

Care giving is a delicate and often intimate relationship that requires a bond of trust that exists beyond the superficial. It requires a partnership that allows for each party to surrender to the moment, and acknowledge that love involves acceptance - fully. We all have our limitations and at the end of the day, we all deserve a measure of grace. Whether you are the one in need of care, or you are the one giving care, the circumstance demanding care can be consuming and exhausting, and grace is probably the main ingredient along with a large portion of acceptance.

With John’s sudden injury I became his care-giver, and as a result, I have spent a minute or two reflecting on what it takes. Learning to sit with the disruption in both of our lives and to face the realities of our assets and our deficits has been humbling. Our new place has a second floor balcony that we call our tree house. It’s anchored among several large, stately trees that lately have had to buffer the recent 70 - 90 mile per hour wind gusts during the recent thunderstorms. Watching the trees up close is what inspired me to remember the lines of a church hymn, Hosea, that I used for the title of this article.

Metaphorically, I have always thought of myself as a tree - straight and tall and rooted in good soil. When I die, I wish to be buried as a tree pod. In the meantime, I will make the effort to accept not only the demands of care-giving, but also the gifts of disruption - music, moments of freedom, sunshine, stillness, puffy clouds in a blue sky, and the intimacy of a 47 year marriage.

John will fully recover. Every day he gets more independent. I am already back on the campaign trail and reving up the engines. This was a set-back, but it was also an important reminder that there are many people out there that are living a more permanent care-giving life style, and they need our support. I believe that is our duty - to support those who are in need and those who care for them because in the words of Paul Wellstone, “We all do better when we all do better.”