Little Miss

This morning, 7/26/2023, I woke to the familiar call of my bladder’s nudge to rise and take care of business. The warmth of my blankets held me hostage until the nudge turned into a scream. As I fling my face mask off, toss off the blanket, rise to a sitting position, I notice the time 10:25 AM on my bed side clock. In normal work life, this would have alarmed me but this morning, I have come to realize this odd sleeping pattern could become the norm. With a hoist to my feet, my head began to spin. No, I did not stay out all night partying, I was called to the bedside of an old friend. The melatonin I took at 4 AM caused my head to spin and yet my needs won so I made a fast drunk-like dash through the house.

I have four handicapped siblings in my family. Seeing that I am the youngest child of the family, I have lived a life with, cared for, and witnessed the lives of many disabled individuals. I helped my mother care for my two brothers from a very young age. I defended my siblings’ wellbeing time and time again. When mom became ill, I became the provider. First, I had both boys. After the birth of my son and my daughter was on the way, I knew I couldn’t care for my brother Henry. I ended up with my eldest sibling, Howard. I cared for him for over twenty years until I could no longer meet his needs.

I remember the day when I had to surrender and have him placed into a home. Living alone with him for the first time, was a scary thing. Seeing that he was blind, the new house we moved into had stairs. I stretched a baby gate over the top stairs to help him to navigate to the restroom and keep him safer from the stairs. When you move with a blind person, it takes time for them to acclimate to their surroundings. I was losing sleep listening for mid-night restroom breaks and making sure he was getting to the restroom. Everyone needs rest and my body shutdown. Yes folks, he fell down those stairs and I woke in fear for his life. As I tended his scratches, saying thank you for his life, I surrendered to the fact that I needed to place him into a care home.

As I drove home last night, I had a lot of time to think. I have visited many homes where my siblings lived. Comfortable, fully staffed, personalized spaces and well-maintained diets was plain to see love. I also know of adult foster care home life. Amazingly, my resume shows my various homes in which I had spent time working. I have been hit, thrown up on, gaged as I changed diapers and yet cleaned myself up and went and ate my lunch or out for a smoke. One thing that is clear, my co-workers knew I was there for the individuals for they call me when they are near walking on. Yes, I drove four hours down to say my good-bye to one, hello to the living. Then I drove the four hours back home.

In the past, when I was in the “in between” jobs space, I spent time working at the local care facilities. I just love getting to know the clients. Taking care of others who cannot do for themselves takes so much love and devotion. They have their good days and their bad days. Some can move themselves, some need to be lifted to a chair and moved. Some can feed themselves and others need to be assisted or fed. Every home I have worked in, I have gained so much experience in home health care. My “In Between” space has brought so much reward to my life.

I felt so seen, noticed, or honored when I received call of pending loss. Thanks to HIPPA all that could be said is, “If you would like to say goodbye, we have 24 to 78 hours.” My goodness, who were we losing? Faces of my friends flashed across my mind. I must go but life has handed me a handful with a three-year-old. Now, my daughter just had surgery. I had to care for the baby for another day. I had to respond, “I am going to come but it will be late the next night. I will check in on my way down from Mackinaw.” Not even a question, I had to go. I will go for each call I receive.

Morning text: Breathing slowing.

Grandson nestled snugly in the blankets; I rose to say my prayers. Sage burning and eyes lowered in prayer. I struggled with the timing. I felt the 24 to 78 hours. My Prayer, “Don’t hold her here for me. I will still go. We have grieving to do.” Grandson dressed, fed and ready to play at the park on his way home.

My Auntie summoned me to her in Mackinaw and I had to answer the call. I am a firm believer that when an Elder calls I answer. This elder wasn’t just an elder, she is an Auntie and THIS Auntie is my last AUNTIE! I close my eyes and add her visit to my travels of the days. After playing in the park and taking the baby home, I went to speed off to the Auntie. Until the tire pressure gage popped up and each stop I watched it lose pressure until I reached the gas station. Prayer: “Don’t hold her here for me. I will still go. We have grieving to do.” I called the Auntie to let her know of my delay in tire repair.

Nothing was stopping me from answering the call home. I am certainly glad that the tire happened locally and not on the highway. I trusted in the process. I just accepted that each moment was special and I had to take the next step. I even had to accept that rudeness can be a blessing. At the tire repair shop, I was happily playing a game as I waited. A man sat down for a moment, stood, and said, “filthy Indian.” I play with my grandson. It is not an uncommon site to see us jumping in a mud puddle. I was covered in mud, and I hadn’t noticed. He didn’t have to be rude about it though. FYI: Management did hear the man and took care of the issue.

Sitting in the tire shop covered in mud, I decided to make a quick stop at home. I would have gone to the Auntie looking awful. This was unacceptable. While I was cleaning up at home, I packed an overnight bag. I decided I needed to prepare for an overnight stay. Sleep deprivation was a concern. I am no longer young and strong, and the little guy really takes a toll on me. Yet, I’m the one willing to play like a best friend. I refuse to stop playing and I wore that mud proudly.

Northern Michigan is home. I have traveled the state and have favorite sites along the way. With miles passing and YouTube videos streaming across the car speaker, I just accepted what was. Home is so broad sometimes. Mackinac is so familiar I know basic navigation of the place. Where to go and were not to go in tourist season. I just made the best of the journey and enjoyed my homelands.

I just made myself sound like Pocahontas. Not even close. I am GPS dependent, and I just choose shortcuts sometimes.

Back on topic, Auntie’s greeting was so sweet. She was returning home from Arizona. Shortly after my Uncle’s passing, she went on her healing journey to Arizona. Isn’t it interesting how people always return home. Seven years apart, and she and I caught up over a nice meal and lovely conversation. Over the meal, she told of some old family photos I must have. Being a historian, I preserve my family information and those photos are even more precious to me. What a gift from my elder, My Auntie.

I left Mackinaw with a smile and a text: “See ya guys in 4 hours. I will let you know when I pass big towns.”

I wasn’t speeding but the miles and hours just rolled by with no problems. I was tired and stiff, but I made it to the house in time. As I rushed into the house I found Little Miss surrounded by people I did not know. Some where the home workers and some were visiting old staff members.

I was amazed at the number of returning staff who were there out of love for her. I watch them visit with her just like I did and do. We were together allowing each other our tears and a private moment with her. We were the family that was called in so she would not be alone in her end days. Little Miss and I did have a good relationship but she was jealous of My Girl.

Okay, I am a bad support care person. I have a favorite client in the house. I visit her and the others get to visit as well. I make sure I spoil everyone but only one chocolate pudding will be given at the visit and a stash given for the cabinet. My Girl, I have always called her that, and I had a silent bond. We just, "Got each other." Her Nappy curly hair and her scrunched nose scrunches even more when she’s laughing and happy. I admit, I spoiled her. I am sure that was part of the jealousy between Little Miss and My Girl.

My Girl and I, well, we were a team. She and I had a ritual, with work come rewards. She hated to stand but it was needed. We worked well at standing, pivoting, and sitting in her chair. She and I were always tired by the time we made it to the main room in pajamas for a movie and snacks. She didn’t mind the work because she loved the reward.

I asked her, “Do you remember me?”

My Girl nodded her head a very firm yes. After two years, since my last visit, she still remembers me.

“I will visit for a little while. Little Miss needs me more tonight. Okay?” I explained.

My old coworker and I smiled at each other when she gave another firm nod. Odd what you talk about when you don’t know what to say. I just talked and washed her face and cleaned her lips. I spent some time with her and playing with her tight curls with a shortened version of a head message. I wished her a good night, feeling very thankful I wasn’t saying good-bye to her this night.

My friend and I left her to sleep. The feelings I have in losing Little Miss are deep, but I must prepare for My Girl’s departure. Then again, will I get a call? If I wasn’t known by employees, I wouldn’t know about Little Miss. Here lies my faith. If I loved Little Miss this much and I was informed, then I must trust I will be informed when My Girl is in need. If she goes before, I come again, may she sleep in peace.