An entry from a caregiving gardener submitted to our Facebook Fan Page garden contest, held in May.

This morning’s episode of Your Caregiving Journey reminded me of Donna Baldwin, one of our 1999 Caregiver of the Year award winners. In her story, Donna spoke about her new-found green thumb, grown after she began caring for her mom. I wrote:

Donna Baldwin readily admits to this: Fourteen years ago, she couldn’t keep a plant in her home alive. So, she filled her home with plastic plants.

Now, only one plastic plant adorns her home, serving as a reminder of what was. A little over thirteen years ago, Donna’s mother moved into her home, joined her husband and their two sons, then nine and 16-years-old. And, since then, Donna has had live plants in her home, all of which have flourished.

Connie Goldman, author of two great books (“The Gifts of Caregiving, Stories of Hardship, Hope and Healing” and “Tending the Earth, Mending the Spirit, The Healing Gifts of Gardening”) joined us this morning to discuss how the gifts of gardening can heal the heartache of caregiving. (You can listen to our show via the player at the bottom of this post.)

Connie shared some wonderful insights:

• Gardening creates a deepening of concentration and focus;

• Surrounding your caree with plants and flowers provides them an opportunity to enjoy nature;

• In a garden, you can be alone to touch the earth and yet feel so connected to others;

• Gardeners save our earth because you can never harm what you treasure.

Connie says she wrote her book about gardening because she wanted to learn the answer to this question: What grows inside you because you grow?

So, to all the caregiving gardeners in our midst, we ask the same question: What grows inside you because you grow?

Program Note:

• Your Caregiving Journey airs again next Saturday, August 14, at 9 a.m. CT. Sharon, who cares for her husband, will join us to share her caregiving story.
• Connie’s most recent book, “Who Am I … Now That I’m Not Who I Was? Conversations with women in mid-life and the years beyond” will be our November Caregiving book club pick.

During our discussion, Bette shared two goals she has for 2010:

1. Leaving the house to enjoy time with her husband and her children without taking along the guilt of leaving her mom with respite care

2. Taking horseback riding lessons, a hobby she loved when she was younger.

Bette also shared her plan as she works to leave behind the guilt: When she leaves, she’ll tell herself that she can take care of whatever happens while she’s gone when she returns. Her desire—to enjoy the time she has with her husband and her kids—will become her focus while she’s out.

Her goals are terrific–ones that we all can embrace to make our own. So, share your thoughts in our comments section: What can you do to leave the guilt behind? And, what one hobby that you loved can you integrate back into your life?

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• Grow (caregiving.com)

Care recipient:

Nominated by: Himself (Read nominating letter.)

In his words:
When I feel stressed, I: Call for my grandson to come visit as it relaxes my wife and I.

My current challenge is: Caring for my wife; lifting her is hard on my back.

When I have an extra five minutes, I: Look on the Internet for music.

My mantra is: Change your thoughts and change your life.

Recommended reading: “MS, The Challenge”

The legacy I would leave to another family caregiver is: Be strong, understanding and compassionate

My 2010 goal is: Continue taking care of my wife and helping her get her jewelry design going

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When Paul Broussard married his wife, Stephanie, seven years ago, he couldn’t say a word. “I was crying so much,” he says.

The Internet provided the introduction but the eyes sealed the deal. “It was love at first sight,” 44-year-old Paul says.

Prior to their marriage, Paul understood Stephanie’s care needs but he also felt his strong love for her. “I wanted her to come and stay with me,” he says. He knew it would be hard, he says, while acknowledging, “I didn’t know it would be this rough.”

The rough right now is assisting Stephanie with showering. It’s a strain on his back, getting Stephanie in and out of the shower and in and out of the shower chair. “So as long as she is happy and I can help change the things that stand in her way, it’s all good,” Paul says.

One of Stephanie’s joy is cooking. When standing at the kitchen counter to prepare food became too difficult for her, Paul converted an old kitchen table into a work station. “She can sit in her wheelchair and do her prep work, use her mixer etc.,” Paul says. “I always look for ways to make her life less complicated by obstacles and more accessible through hope.”

As Paul cares for Stephanie, so Stephanie helps care for Paul’s father. His father, who is 67, has difficulty with speech and swallowing. “They share similar symptoms and she never tires of doing research on the computer and contacting people for Dad,” Paul says. “She is really the remarkable one. She never gives up.”

For Paul, the best part of the day is the morning, when he wakes and enjoys a cup of coffee (“cup of Joe”). When not caring for Stephanie, Paul searches the Internet for records and LPs he can resell on eBay and Amazon. “I love music so I used my love for my wife and my love for music to begin selling online,” Paul says.

Even within the challenges of caregiving, Paul continues on with love and faith. “Good deeds will be rewarded,” he says.

Care recipient:

In her words:
When I feel stressed: I take a deep breath, sometimes walk into the other room for a minute. Sometimes I focus on my yellow lab, who is always next to me. Eli somehow knows when I am doing a task that is uncomfortable for a caregiver to do…or for a daughter to do for her parent.

My current challenge is: My mother’s memory challenges, having to repeat so many things, and, even more than that, are her incontinence challenges.

When I have an extra five minutes: I use the “ladies room.”

My mantra is: I have a small sculpture piece taken from Mark 9:35 whose title reflects servanthood. The sculpture is of Jesus bent over washing one of the disciple’s feet. To envision this piece has been uplifting for me and has given me strength. I know we were not promised that life would be easy, but Christ has promised to be with us during the difficult times.

Recommended reading: A devotional entitled: “Strength and Courage for Caregivers” by Terry Hargrave

The legacy I would leave to another family caregiver is: Be sure to take time for yourself and do not feel like you have to do everything. It is good for the person whom you are caring for to have others do things for him or her as well. We utilize Home Instead Sr. Care and I am so glad I have them to call on.

My 2010 goal is: To try and not rush as much, but slow down with my caregiving tasks.  Even if that means some things are moved to tomorrow. Also, to do something special each week for myself. To try and help myself become a bit refreshed. Maybe horseback riding.

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Bette Scott begins her day between 7 and 7:30 a.m. with trips between the dishwasher and the washing machine. And then her day becomes the juggling act: kids, mom, kids, mom, mom, kids. She first wakes her three children (Abrah, 13, Rees, 10 and Marah, 7) and then her mom, who moved in with Bette after a stroke in 2002. Then, at 9:30 a.m., school for the kids begins; Bette cyber schools the children, which is “a public school through use of computers,” the 47-year-old explains.

The day ends similar to how it began, with mom to bed first, then the children. Showers end the day, although a new struggle to shower has entered Bette’s care routine with her mom. “It’s a new challenge,” Bette says, “I really have to coax her.”

Bette’s first challenge began after moving her mom in with them, when her youngest was still in diapers. “My mother has always been afraid to be in a nursing home situation, which is why my family and I love that she can be a part of our home,” Bette writes in her nominating letter. The decision didn’t come without difficult moments. Bette’s attention was spread between her mom and her children, which included a nine-month -old bundle. “I didn’t want that joy stolen from me,” she says.

Bette works well with a schedule, which is why she has scheduled two family nights for her, husband Greg and the kids; Game Night takes place on Wednesday and Pizza and Movie Night occurs on Fridays. A date night for Bette and Greg is in the works. Abrah has just begun baby-sitting, allowing Greg and Bette a little more freedom.

Planning time for just herself also is becoming a priority. “I have to,” she says. “Otherwise you forget who you are.” She would like to start taking horse-backing riding lessons, an activity she enjoyed in her younger days.

Part of the day’s schedule is dispensing Margaret’s 30 medications. To make sure her mother takes the correct medication at the proper time, Bette created a system that acts as both a reminder and confirmer. A place mat, one for morning and one for evening, features pictures of each pill so each pill can be matched to its picture.

Caregiving can seem like a seventh member of the family, but it’s helped Bette’s family grow communication-wise. “Communication is so important,” she says. And, it’s helped Bette appreciation her life’s moments. When the five of them can take time to just be by being at McDonald’s, Bette gets a boost. “It’s made me appreciate the little things.”

The tough part of caregiving for Bette is not knowing how well you’re doing at the job. You don’t get a review in caregiving like you would at another job, she says. She’s recently looked to connect with other family caregivers through websites and found great comfort in the commonality of the experience. “Before, I felt like I was on an island,” she says. “Now I know someone is doing just what I’m doing and it’s okay.”

Bette has goals in regard to her mom’s care: She wants her mom to enjoy time out of the house three or four times every week. And, she does her best to spend quality time with her mom when she can. She also recognizes the limits of her time. “I do feel pulled,” she says, “because everyone wants you at the same time.”

Even within the difficulties, Bette encourages others to take on the role of family caregiver. “It is hard to see our parents changing,” she writes. “The role reversal is especially difficult. I try (as I remind our children) to remember that although my mother may seem different on the outside, she is the same on the inside as she has always been. She has feelings, worries and concerns, as we all do. Through this experience, I know our children are learning the valuable lesson of compassion and the importance of family members taking care of one another. I am grateful we can experience these challenges together.”

That’s what makes a family.

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Bette joined us for a live discussion of her caregiving experiences on Your Caregiving Journey on Sunday, January 31, at 1 p.m. CT. You can listen to our interview via the player below.

Brooks

Care recipient: Brooks, Pam’s 18-year-old son who has cancer

Nominated by: Lynda Kerwin, a colleague of Pam’s (Read the nominating letter.)

In her words:
When I feel stressed, I: When I feel stressed I force myself to take a nap. This usually occurs between 1 and 3 p.m. If my son has a friend over, all the better. If he’s alone, I’ll lie beside him and doze. I attribute most of my physical strength during this difficult time to sleeping in the afternoon, especially if I had an interrupted night’s sleep due to the following: I walk in my sleep, talk in my sleep, clean out my closet in my sleep. I have a recurring dream that if I find a certain box with latches on it, my son’s cancer will go away. So far I haven’t found that box.

My current challenge is: I fight obsessing over the outcome of my son’s diagnosis. Many times dark moods interfere with my usual sunny disposition. If I let them, these thoughts will easily overcome every minute of the day. It is definitely easier, this allowing myself to sink into the depths of despair and misery. Plus, it forces someone else to take over for me. Herein lies the struggle: Do I really want that?

When I have an extra five minutes, I: Call my eighty-year-old mother in Wisconsin just to hear her thank me for staying strong for her grandson. And I call her ‘mommy’.

My mantra is: “It is a privilege being Brooks’ mom. And no matter what happens to Brooks today, it’s a privilege to be here for him.”

Recommended reading: “Leave It To God” by Christian D. Larson (non-denominational). “The Book Of Positive Quotations” by John Cook. Humor articles. The newspaper. (Sometimes there are stories sadder than mine…) I do NOT Google medical articles. I don’t say this is right, but I feel it is best for the caregiver. I cannot give of myself and cure cancer at the same time. If I do Internet searches at all, it is ‘false positives’ or ‘medication side effects’. I labor over finding out what, besides cancer, a certain symptom could be in order to assuage my son. He thinks every pain is a new tumor.

The legacy I would leave to another family caregiver is: My advice would be to take each day as a separate unit. Try not to look to far ahead and do not go into the past. I kept the phone off the hook and my cell phone on mute most days and in the initial throes of the diagnoses especially. There are people that like drama and they will drain you. If you tell the same story ten times a day, it magnifies. What feels good at first begins to sap you.

I preferred to keep people updated via mass e-mails. My buddy list started at ten and grew to several hundred. I stated everything the way I wanted to and kept a nice boundary that way. If people wrote me back, it was comforting. I could ask for what I needed and people responded quickly. People really care, you’d be surprised who came out of the woodwork. And yet, others surprised me with their detachment. Relatives, for instance. Oh well.

I learned a lot about myself and my family, integrity and strength, and who was capable of what rather quickly. I learned the most about myself.

My 2010 goal is: To honor my son and God’s plan for him. It has taken me four years to wrap my brain around the reason or purpose for this child of mine to suffer so. Friends encouraging words fall on deaf ears. Sometimes we just must have a compartment in our brain for ‘things that have no explanation.” Letting go of the outcome sounds New Age and it is, but it is the only way I’ve found to work. It works best for me.

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(Editor’s Note: So she could continue to focus her full attention on Brooks’ care needs, Pam asked that we conduct our interview for this article via email; our questions to her and her answers follow.)

Caregiving.com: Tell us about Brooks.
Pam: Brooks was a vibrant healthy boy until diagnosed at age 15 with osteosarcoma in his left tibia. Three months before diagnosis, he marched 6.5 miles in the Tournament of Roses parade, playing the mellophone (French horn). He had his leg amputated above knee in 2006 and has endured three lung surgeries (radiofrequency ablation, thoracotomy, sternotomy), proton therapy to the base of skull, gamma knife to the base of skull and 5 weeks radiation to the spine. Lesions have just been discovered on his pelvis after a normal MRI two months ago.

Caregiving.com: Tell us about your family.
Pam: My son, Jon Connor, is 15 and plays saxophone and clarinet. He marches in marching band and is in jazz band. Unfortunately, he is collateral damage. A happy boy, he still walks with a bounce in his step and whistles happily. His school work suffers, but the school knows our plight and has been most helpful.

We have a mutt of a dog, Rottweiler/Doberman mix, who got her toe caught in the leg of an end table and had to have it amputated last month. The fun never ends around here. We also have a 25-pound cat who snores.

Caregiving.com: Tell us about a worry.
Pam: I worry more about my son suffering than about his dying. Maybe I’m naive. A mother can’t bear to see her first born child in such pain. The child who got a perfect math score on his SAT can now barely see, the kid who plays six musical instruments can’t hear out of one ear and can’t toot a horn due to diminished lung capacity. The boy who, at age two, pulled his stool up to grandma’s stove, pounded on it with his fist and said, “You cook, I eat!” can only swallow soup and malteds now. The teen who didn’t let a prosthetic leg hold him back and who dressed as a peg-leg pirate at Halloween and continued to march at football games on an artificial leg has just found out the cancer has metastasized. to his sound leg.

Caregiving.com: Tell us about a blessing.
Pam: Our support group has kept us in food and groceries. They plant flowers by my front porch and put Christmas lights up outside to surprise us. My flight attendant friends at Delta have donated paid vacation days and have afforded me a full 2.5 months off. Brooks’ friends appear at all hours and sit with him and jam with him on the piano. His girlfriend reads with him and toys with him and makes him feel one hundred per cent whole. I cannot express the maturity of his social group. No one has deserted him. His a capella singing group, the  UCLA Scattertones, wants him to sing on their new CD. Their video greeting via YouTube, a gorgeous rendition of  “Let It Be,”  put me over the moon. This generation is terrific.

Caregiving.com: Tell us about a bad day.
Pam: It’s too horrifying to recount. Brooks wouldn’t want me to relay any information about him that might diminish him in any way. He still sees himself as a strong and vital man, although he’s falling into depression now. You see, his beauty and talent defined him. That’s what eighteen-year olds do! He has been thrust into a world of baldness, chronic nausea, wheelchair confinement and severe pain. For a mother to witness this and have no control is unimaginable. He is my friend and my future. He asks if I am giving up on him. Do my eyes show something that my words belie?

Caregiving.com: Tell us about a good day.
Pam: His good days are days when he is flanked by his buddies on the couch. They watch movies together on one big screen while playing separate video games on their individual laptops. What? They talk and eat at the same time. They laugh at stupid jokes. They ignore each other and socialize with each other all at the same time. Brooks loves going to UCLA, joining the buzz and energy of intellectuals such as himself. A normal scan is a good day. A check in the mail. Mostly, his girlfriend, Gio’s, head on his chest.

Caregiving.com: Tell us about yourself.
Pam: I am a 52-year-old white female, divorced. Had kids late, after 9 years of marriage. I am a flight attendant for Delta Airlines since 1977. I don’t date, don’t exercise, don’t watch television. But I am not a martyr. I have maintained my job and my dignity, have kept a roof over my children’s heads and keep a semi-clean house. I remember to change the filter in the air conditioner occasionally and owe all of my organizational skills to a massive eraser board in the kitchen. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, etc. My refrigerator, however, has fuzz growing on the outside.

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To learn more about Pam, read her two essays published by Los Angeles Times:

• A Mother Assesses Risk to Life and Limb

• When Cancer’s the Houseguest, Few Rooms are Truly Safe

Nominated by: Jeff, Linda’s husband; read the nominating letter.

In Linda’s words:

When I feel stressed, I: Take a deep breath.

My current challenge is: My mom’s bedsores.

When I have an extra five minutes, I: Read something, anything, that’s near by.

My mantra is: How lucky I am to have had my parents this long, how blessed. It’s my turn to take care of them because they took care of me. It’s just my turn.

Recommended reading: Designated Daughter: The Bonus Years with Mom by D.G. Fulford and Phyllis Greene

The legacy I would leave to another family caregiver is: Be open to Hospice because that was and is a lifesaver for me. My father was on Hospice his last three months and my mom has been on Hospice for 1 ½ years. The staff gives me tremendous support.

My 2009 goal is: Just to get through it. Hopefully, we’ll celebrate Mom’s 100th birthday on July 4th.

Because her son is away at college, Linda says she and her husband, Jeff, are empty-nesters. But from the sound of it, the nest still seems full. Linda starts her day with a visit to her mom, who resides in a local board-and-care home, then she’ll spend time volunteering for her temple or the local Alzheimer’s Association, then she’ll walk or enjoy yoga or a dance class. She’ll then work on her blog.

Linda started her blog, TenderLovingElderCare.com, in April 2008 as a way to help her friends who were beginning to care for their parents. Linda’s caregiving journey was already 10 years in the making, so she had plenty of information and support to share. “I love blogging, getting information out, connecting with people,” Linda says.  “I really enjoy the interviews that I do with family caregivers. I like sharing other people’s stories.”

Her Internet presence has grown to a profile on Twitter (http://www.twitter.com/TLeC), which she uses to meet other family caregivers and to communicate her knowledge. Future goals include giving speeches about caregiving and, perhaps, a book.

Linda’s caregiving began in 2000, when her parents were 94 and 91, and Linda’s mom was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease. Linda lived in California (as a child, Linda always said, “I’m moving to California.” As a young adult, she did); her parents in Florida. Her parents managed with Linda’s regular visits and constant phone calls–until the day her father decided they needed to be closer to her. “Dad decided overnight,” Linda says. “Something happened that scared him.”

Removing 2,500 miles between herself and her parents made life easier for everyone. “It was wonderful when they moved closer, I could help and I could give Dad a break,” Linda says.

Bowling until he was 96, her father died in his sleep at the age of 98 in 2005. “I didn’t expect him to go before her,” she says. “Looking back, I think, Wow, I should have concentrated on him. We were so focused on my mom.”

Her father’s death increased her responsibilities. “I know I needed to step into his role and care even more,” she says.

She’s an involved advocate on behalf of her mother. Currently, she’s working with the Hospice staff to heal her mother’s bed sores. She meets regularly with her mother’s nurse to discuss treatment options and progress. “I learn as much as I can so I can stay on top of her care,” Linda explains.

Linda’s caregiving is full of pictures, which she shares on her blog. Photography, woven with her words, is Linda’s tool to document what caregiving has come to mean for her.  “There’s a lot of beauty that comes out of caregiving,” she says. “It’s bonus years with my parents. The joy you get back when you care… I see it from my mom in her eyes and her smiles.”

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Linda joins Denise for a special edition of Your Caregiving Journey, a weekly talk show, on Wednesday, Feb. 18 at 8 p.m. Central. Listen here.

Care recipient: Mariah, Ron’s wife

Nominated by: Dori Middleman, a colleague of Mariah’s; read the nominating letter.

In Ron’s words:

When I feel stressed, I: Breath. I make sure I take a deep breath, almost like a college basketball player will do before taking a foul shot. It helps me relax and see what’s really important.

My current challenge is: I’m getting older. I’m 66. Though I’m still strong, I can see the beginning stages of my body feeling some wear. Recently, my doctor told me I had tennis elbow and golf elbow at the same time. It’s kind of funny since I don’t play either of them. Which means I need to take better care of myself so I’m available.

When I have an extra five minutes: I often sit quietly, almost as in meditation, and focus on how blessed I am to have my life as it is now, with my wife and two sons and the good people, family and friends, who surround us.

My mantra is: Mariah is precious cargo. She can’t do much for herself over night, so she may wake me and need help.  As I walk her unsteadily to the bathroom, I’m aware that I must pay attention to what I’m doing; that I’m taking care of precious cargo. There is no way I will let anything happen to her.

Recommended reading: Tales of the Wounded Healer by Mariah. One of the chapters in the book is called “Death As the Great Advisor.” She talks about the terminal diagnosis and it’s affect on her life and her work and what she has learned from the disease. I, too, have learned about my strengths and weaknesses and about how I want to live my life.

The legacy I would leave to another family caregiver is: Love. You have to love. In those times, when it’s not easy to love, then you rely on loyalty. I may not feel all that loving at the moment but I will do this because you are my wife. Then, if I’m not feeling loving or loyal (maybe at 3 a.m.), I’ll rely on my personal integrity, which tells me this is what needs to be done.

My 2009 goal is: I need to make sure I take care of myself, to sustain myself. It becomes easy to center my life around someone else and lose myself. There are times when I need to say, “No.” It’s not an easy thing to say, but I have to say it. I can’t right now, I have to talk care of myself, which is really important. A goal for me is to get back to things I need to do for myself. My interests.  I want to make sure I’m happy with me, that I’m sustaining me. I can’t give to someone else unless I have myself.

Mariah and Ron met when she was 32 and he was 37. They met at a function Ron didn’t plan to attend (“I wasn’t up to going into the big city,” he says). But he went. They met. They spent the rest of the night talking.

A true love story. But, not one without a wrinkle.

Mariah was diagnosed with Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis  (Lou Gehrig’s Disease) in 1981 while they were still dating. Her doctor gave her a 10% chance of living another two years.

So, with that news, Ron proposed and three months later, they got married and began their life together, a life that expanded to include two sons, Luke born in 1982, and Cole, in 1984.

“When I got the diagnosis, I think I had some kind of sacred denial,” Ron says. “I told Mariah that she was going to be fine. We were going to fight this diagnosis and that we needed to go forward and live our life. I knew we needed hope. That there was a solution, and that we would find it.”

That’s not to say that Ron’s hope kept anger at their situation at bay. He quickly points out that the disease has made their life as a couple and as individuals very difficult. “Would I rather not be in this situation? Yes!” Ron says. “It is a terrible disease.”

Over time, Mariah would tell Ron that the disease has made her a better person. At first, this was difficult for him to hear.  “I agree with her now. I’m probably a better person, too,” Ron says. “ I make sure my life is what I want it to be. I don’t tolerate small things or small people. Everything has to go toward life and living. If it’s not authentic and honest, it’s not worth my time.”

Like second nature, Ron lists the lessons learned as a result of caregiving: He’s more patient, he cares more, he’s more sensitive to people with disabilities. He’s very grateful for his life and his wife. And, most importantly, he has learned to ask for help. “I thought I could do it all,” he says. “I can take care of my wife, I’ll do it all. Mariah has taught me to reach out. By reaching out, by getting help, we’re having great experience making contact with others.”

At a movie theater a year ago, they emerged from the show to find a parking lot covered by several inches of snow. As Ron looked back-and-forth from Mariah and her wheelchair to the car, obviously silently questioning how to get from here to there, a stranger approached with an offer to help. “I said, Sure,” Ron says. “We had such a great time getting Mariah to the car. It’s a memory. It’s wonderful to see people be of service and to get involved.”

Ron now has help with Mariah’s personal care, but the help has days off.  When it’s Ron’s turn to manage the care, he likes to break their morning caregiving routine into sections—for dressing, for care at the sink, for hair and makeup, and then cooking and eating. “Breaking it down into sections helps me get by,” Ron says.

For Ron, the hardest part is sometimes feeling that he gives himself up for another person’s needs. “I want to be there, but the constancy, the 24/7, can be overbearing,” he says. “Caregiving is a lot of work. I will never make light of it. I’m lucky. The progression of her disability has been over 28 years. Because of that, I’m often not aware of some of the caregiving things I’m doing. They’re second nature now.”

As with all challenges, there’s a flip side. The disease and the resulting caregiving role have increased their bond as a couple and as a family. “Mariah says she’s better in our relationship because she can’t run away when we get into an disagreement. Because the other person is not leaving, either physically or emotionally, we can really share, and say what you need to say,” Ron explains. “We have deeper discussions because of that.”

They also know the meaning of true intimacy.  “I wash her face. That helps us with our relationship. Couples should try it sometime. There’s a closeness, a privacy, a connectedness.”

Oh, and one last perk: “I get to put my wife’s bra on her,” he adds.

Care recipient: Annie, Craig’s wife, who was diagnosed with breast cancer in 2007. Annie is in remission.

Nominated by: Jane Harris, a friend; read the nominating letter

In Craig’s words:

When I feel stressed, I: Don’t recognize stress, but I work.

My current challenge is: Gaining more clients for my business coaching.

When I have an extra five minutes, I: Tell my wife how much I love her–thaaaaat much!  I do it daily, she loves it!

My mantra is: Learning more about loving

Recommended reading: The Outlander Series by Diana Gabaldon

The legacy I would leave to another family caregiver is: The Caregiver’s Bill of Rights

My 2009 goal is: Feed my family, support my caregiving community.

After receiving a diagnosis of cancer, most care recipients and family caregivers begin the battle together against the disease. For Craig and Annie, two battles began, one against the disease and the other against each other.

Annie made decisions; Craig disagreed. Annie said, It’s my damned cancer. It was a month-long battle, with firm lines drawn in the sand.

“We had the worst month, we were both torn up, frightened, angry with each other. I couldn’t please her, she couldn’t please me. We were completing at odds, it was awful, we were so out sync in our lives,” Craig says.

But, something happened to Craig during the 30 days because when the month was up, he made a decision. He would continue his business of coaching (he’s a business coach) as long as clients called him. Otherwise, he was going to be the best damned caregiver ever.

And, that’s how they won the war. They beat the cancer (knock on wood) and saved their marriage. Craig, who did become the best damned caregiver, became tangible proof to Annie of his love for her. “Her perception of the sacrifices I made for her showed her that I loved her,” Craig says. “Before, she was never sure, for good and sufficient reasons.”

Prior to the diagnosis, Craig was a business man, in all aspects of his life. He was all business, all the time.

Annie’s cancer made his set his briefcase down and participate in his personal life in a way he hadn’t before. He attended a cancer support group for other caregiving spouses. Craig was only man in the group and the only member whose spouse was not terminal. “They were the 10 bravest women in the world, when all their partners were dying,” he says.

And, that’s when he made room beside his briefcase for a life outside of business. “I saw what my life without Annie would be like,” Craig ways. “Now, I tell her I love her every day. I surprise her every time I do it and she smiles in a way that she didn’t before. The business is this: Our relationship has never been anything like this, not even when we were dating.”

Their marriage of 25 years transferred into a marriage of absolute and unconditional love.  Now skilled in paradigm shifts, Craig turned to transforming other family caregivers. In October, he created a caregiving program featuring four speakers that drew 30 attendees. The success of that event led him to form a monthly support group for family caregivers.

On a recent Sunday in January, twelve family caregivers attended a support group meeting during which Craig supported each as they spoke their truths. “Family caregivers have two lives to live,” Craig says. “We don’t know how to manage both. At the meeting, each looked at what has been true for them and what they might try to accomplish.” At the meeting’s end, Craig asked how many of the twelve would like to meet on a regular basis. Everyone said “yes.”

His business of loving Annie and supporting family caregivers is just beginning. “What I changed from and into has been wonderful,” Craig says.

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Craig joins Denise for a special edition of Your Caregiving Journey, a weekly talk show, on Wednesday, Feb. 25 at 8 p.m. Central. Listen here.

Nominated by: Nancy Lewin of Johnson & Johnson Caregiver Initiative; read nominating letter

Care Recipient: Patty’s mom Helen, who is 90, suffers from Alzheimer’s disease and cancer. As of January 2008, she now resides in a long-term care facility.

In Patty’s words:

When I feel stressed, I: remember to love. I remind myself that I’m supposed to be a loving presence. My intention is to be the most loving soul I can be. That’s relaxing. Always know you do the right thing when you come from a place of love.

When things get crazy, we start to raise our voices. We’re only human, but we are also divine. Try this little technique: Soften your tone, it will soften you. Soften Your Tone. It’s such an easy method for dissolving everyone’s stress. We don’t have to perfect, only loving.

My hardest part is: The many levels of sadness and exhaustion, the thousand deaths and losses when a loved one is so ill for so long. I worked day and night to keep my mom’s quality of life at home only to part now, with her placement into long-term care. Toughest of all is that we do this ongoing caregiving to life’s end: then ultimately our beloved must leave.

When I have an extra five minutes, I: Practice relaxation. I’ve believed in this so strongly that I created and produced an entire CD stress reduction program, Removing Negative Thoughts to help battle the darkness of depression. What’s exciting is that you can learn to relax deeply even in a five-minute time span. Best, it’s something we can do for ourselves that’s as healthy as a good night’s sleep. When you think that when Going Deeper isn’t good enough…Go Deeper. Seek a better thought.

My mantra is: Probably that when life brings you to your knees, pray. I’m always in touch, in prayer. When we pray for one another, we’re connected to each other and to the Divine.

The legacy I would leave to another family caregiver is: My book, Lessons in the Divine for Caregivers. I poured myself into my book so that caregivers could laugh, cry, learn. It’s zany, it’s fun, it’s sad yet hopeful. It comes to us as Life’s chapters do….in pages. I gave them my book so they could open to any page and discover new beginnings.

My 2008 goal is: To accomplish my dream of finishing my book (In Tumble’s World, a childrens’ book for all ages,) a love story about the loss of a local wilderness and the return to Innocence. We must take care of one another and our earth.

I’m most proud: I feel so blessed and thankful for the gift of having my angel Mom for as long as I’ve had her. With the silence of her absence from the house, every day I notice new beauties about her patience (with me—ha-ha!), her exquisite artistic talents, her wellsprings of forgiveness, her graciousness, her life of prayer and the humility of her ways. Never have I met anyone so pure.

When Patty and I spoke over the holidays, she was reeling from her mom’s recent hospitalization. “I cry every night, the house is so silent,” she said. “I can’t walk into her bedroom and kiss her hand. I understand the need to keep focusing on life, but I mourn my mom’s presence.”

Patty’s mom (Helen) first needed Patty’s intensive care 10 years ago; the needs grew until six years ago when Patty could no longer work a full-time job. “I couldn’t work a corporate job, so I took from my retirement (fund),” she explained. “Yes, I would tell people that’s hard. But I wouldn’t have done it any differently because it gave me that extra time with my Mom.”

During that time, Patty not only provided loving care for mom, but wrote and published a book, Lessons in the Divine for Caregivers. According to its description on Amazon.com, Lessons “illuminates the unexpected, soothes the unaware, bares a lock-tight case for empathy building, offers practical advice for the bedraggled, calms with compassion, and sheds light and healing laughter on the more difficult concerns to pin down–the ones disturbing your soul.”

“Blessings (like the book) happen along the way. It wrote each paragrah down as it was given to me,” she explained. “(Caregiving) is my noble purpose. I couldn’t have done any less, and God has been so good to me.”

Patty hoped to have her mom return home after the hospitalization, but suddenly she needed full-time, long-term care. “Nevertheless, keep your heart open because there is always yet another lesson, always a new gift: Mom now has 35 persons on her care team helping her the way I did. They’re wonderful,” Patty said.

With the worsening of Helen’s health, a move to a nursing home has signaled a new role for Patty’s caregiving. “I’m helping her prepare for the eternal life of her soul.”

She adds: “We’re getting (our care recipients) ready for Heaven, for the continuum. The idea is to “continue ‘em…tell good stories about them. That’s one way we can provide end-of-life care. We can give them moments of joy, hugs and kisses. We can fill them with reminders of the beauty their lives have brought. We can tell them that we remember, that we’ll always love and remember.

“Continue them so their stories live on into the continuum. Keep telling good stories about them.”

Patty and Helen share a caregiving run that includes a major recovery in 2000 from a crippling setback of osteo-arthritis that left Helen unable to walk. “After months and months of rehabilitation, we returned to regular trips out for dinner to break the cabin fever. We discovered new daily routines that included a social life for Helen at an adult medical day center. There hasn’t been a time when she hasn’t gone out with her earrings and lipstick on,” Patty said. “They called Helen the ‘Dutchess of DayAway.’”

Today Patty cares for her 10-month-old grandson, Lucas, while Patty’s daughter Jillian works as a teacher. Patty also takes time to reflect on her lessons learned from Helen. “She has taught me how to live perfectly in the present. Alzheimer’s is a gift for teaching us how to do that. The more I’ve seen of life, the bigger God gets.”

Patty, at 62 years young, feels like she’s just beginning to take the next big steps in her life, believing that we all receive many callings during our lifetime. She answered the call to caregive. Who knows what the next great call will be for her.–Denise M. Brown