Several months ago, I was saddened and concerned to learn of the death of one of the residents at my workplace. My sadness came from losing a well-liked member of our resident family, while my concern arose from the fact that his visually impaired wife would no longer have the partner she had depended on so heavily for her everyday needs. I wondered how this resident was going to get by when she was unable to see and was so accustomed to having her husband's assistance. As the Resident Service Coordinator at the building, I also wondered if there would be ways for me to help her. Despite the fact that she apparently would receive some assistance from her family, I assumed she would not be able to remain in our building. To my limited vision, the road ahead just seemed too daunting for her.
A short time after her husband's death, I saw this resident in our Community Room with another visually impaired resident and her friend. They were guiding her so that she could get around in the building, just as her husband had done. She was attending events at the building with these residents and despite the fact that it was an emotionally difficult time for her, she seemed cheerful and ready to make the most of her new circumstances. She was not confined to her apartment, as I had feared, but was staying active and seemed eager to be with other people. I was very encouraged--and also happily surprised--by how well she was responding to her new situation.
This resident, and the residents who have helped her, made me realize that sometimes I am rather short-sighted when it comes to the strength of the people I serve. I saw the limitations of a difficult situation, but I did not foresee the courage or resilience with which this woman faced the loss of her spouse, especially one upon whom she depended so heavily. Then, too, I forgot the compassion and thoughtfulness that our residents have displayed toward others in various difficult situations, whether it be by taking food to those who are ill, offering transportation, or just being there for emotional support. It was a humbling and necessary reminder that although I am there to help, I do not have to solve every problem or even coordinate the resources that are needed in every situation. Sometimes the greatest resources--other people--are right there in front of us. Moreover, they are sometimes able to respond more effectively than we can as caring professionals. May those of us who are caregivers remember that we do not have to do it all, and that we can call on the strength and compassion of others in difficult times!
Sunday, July 27, 2014
Thursday, July 10, 2014
The Importance of Listening
I think many of us have had the experience of hearing
someone tell us the same story over and over again. This happens especially with older folks and, of course, it
could be a sign of confusion or dementia.
But it has occurred to me that sometimes people may repeat themselves
not because their mental capacity is impaired. In some cases, I think it is because they are lonely and
have very few people to talk to, or because they feel disenfranchised, undervalued,
and do not have the experience of “having a voice” in the world. These individuals—whether they are
elderly or not--really need to be listened to and to be heard. Their stories and opinions need to be
acknowledged and validated, and I think that might be rather easy to forget.
A few of the residents in the housing facility where I work
come into my office on a regular basis.
At times they have needs and concerns that require my assistance, but
these residents come in primarily to visit, to talk, and to be listened
to. If I am on a tight schedule, my
first instinct might be to tell them I do not have time just to visit or to
chat—and if I am with someone else or I am really on a deadline, I might have
to put off the visiting for a bit.
But I believe that being available to listen to the residents, to
validate their worth, and to show concern for them is the primary reason I am
there. That is not something
that needs to take an hour, or even a half hour, of my time. Sometimes even a very brief exchange
seems to make a big difference in someone’s day.
We cannot always “fix” a demanding situation that we
encounter while we are serving others.
Sometimes, through the help of various resources, we can help to bring about
a successful resolution when individuals are facing trying circumstances, but
this is not always true. However, we
can listen and be available, even when we may not be able to fix anything or
“make it right”. As the famous theologian and philosopher
Paul Tillich said, “The first duty of love is to listen.”
If we, as caregivers, make listening a priority in our work,
I believe we take a great step in truly caring for those whom we are called to
serve. It requires patience and
compassion, but I believe the benefit to others—and to our selves—is well worth
it. As we go about the daily tasks
of our work, it just might be helpful to stop and ask ourselves, “Have I truly
listened to someone today?”
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