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Being a fairly new caregiver (1-1/2 years), I was talking with a fellow caregiver about what we experience. She shared a page from her journal and allowed me to post with the caveat that I don’t use her real name. I will call her Karli and she cares for her mother. This is what Karli had to say and I took the liberty to rearrange, with her permission, and post it in the form of one of my poems, but it isn’t a poem. There are no rhymes and no stanzas that work together, necessarily. This is just from her heart.

Anger, frustration, pain, turmoil, worry, angst.

The pit in my stomach. Sleepless nights.

What is next, what steps do I take. How do I know what to do.

Who do I contact for help, what do I ask for?

I hate seeing this and all the feelings of guilt for getting frustrated,

guilty for getting impatient, guilty for feeling selfish.

What next? No, don’t ask what’s next.

I get so angry about it all. All the loss. All the frustration. The blame.

And then the guilt of those feelings. Why?

And then the pain of seeing the one who gave me life, losing theirs.

I want it to go quickly. I hate seeing this confusion,

their constant sleep, while I get none. The confusion upon awaking. The oblivion.

The need for help to do the simplest of steps. The look of loss on the face of the

one I looked to. I am angry. I am sad. I am afraid. I feel guilty. I am lost.

What next. No! Don’t ask what’s next.

I am tired. I need a break. I am so thankful for times past.

I am ready for times in the future. This is life. This is love. This is the cost of being loved.

Don’t ask what’s next, just live and accomplish what is set forth for you today.