Remember to Remember

When things are going well,
be mindful of adversity.
When prosperous,
be mindful of poverty.
When loved,
be mindful of thoughtfulness.
When respected,
be mindful of humility.
When things are going well,
be mindful of adversity.
When prosperous,
be mindful of poverty.
When loved,
be mindful of thoughtfulness.
When respected,
be mindful of humility.
Being a caregiver can be exhausting and frustrating. The hours are long and the work often lonely. Caregivers lose their freedom and can feel trapped by circumstances they no longer control. The patient may well have a condition from which he or she will not recover, so the caregiver often has to handle growing feelings of loss and the resultant grief. And fear.
A caregiver—even one who starts out with love and enthusiasm—can quickly feel overwhelmed, saddened, and powerless.
But even in this most difficult situation, there can be joy and gratitude.
How often have we heard someone say after the death of a parent, “I thought I had more time.” Thinking there would be enough time in the future, the person didn’t get around to visiting or even to call very often. They had other commitments. They were busy at work or at home. They had things they had looked forward to doing. And after all, there was enough time.
And then suddenly one day, it was too late. There was no more time.
There was no more time to go over photos together and hear the family stories again. No time for visits on a cold winter night with a cup of tea and “Remember when...?” No chance to look into the loved one’s eyes and say thank you, and for them to smile and say "thank you" back. No more time for joy and gratitude.
Too much time for regret.
But the caregiver?
The caregiver has so much time! So many ways to say thank you. So much time to share a cup of tea. So many opportunities to hug a parent or a spouse and say, "I want to do this" and "I’m not going to leave you." So many ways to say without words, “Don’t be afraid, I’m here.” So much time for the unexpected silliness and shared laughter. So many wonderful memories.
And little need for regret.
"In the face of war, social injustice, religious conflict, corporate greed, what difference can one person make? Why should one person even try to make a difference? The odds are so overwhelming. It's pointless."
Frankly, that doesn't matter. We do what is right simply because that is what it is—right.
I don't strike another person because I think that action will lead to the end of violence, but because not hitting another person is the right thing to do. I don't refrain from lying to my spouse because I think my actions will convince everyone to be honest, but because being truthful in any relationship is the right way to behave. I don't cheat a customer because I know he'll never find out and I get tired of having to work with all these foreigners, but because treating all people equally and with respect is the right way to interact with others.
And I refrain from wrongdoing, because even if no one finds out the harm I have done, even if my wrong actions have absolutely no effect on others or the world, what I might have done was simply wrong.
Everything is in a constant state of flux, ever-changing, continuously moving. In our comfort with the known and worry about the unknown, we often wish things would stay the way they are even when they are not ideal.
But the reality is that we cannot hold on to life and stop it from changing.
Breathe in and then hold your breath. Do not let it go, do not breathe out. How does this holding of your breath feel? In a matter of seconds, holding on to our breath becomes increasingly uncomfortable. At some point, we cannot help but expel that breath.
Just as we cannot hold on to our breath, we cannot keep change from occurring. Change is as natural as our breathing in and breathing out.
Rain falls,
wind blows,
plants bloom,
leaves mature
and are blown away;
these phenomena
are all interrelated
with causes and conditions,
are brought about by them,
and disappear
as the causes and conditions
change.