The Caregiver

This is for this prompt challenge: Identity

Write about the concept of your identity. What is it, how has it evolved, was there a moment in your life when it transformed.

The day in January was bitter and cold; the sky painted in crisp cobalt with grey clouds that looked like pulled taffy. I stood in the dimly lit office, watching the undertakers pull out of my driveway with my father’s body. With a heavy heart, I observed through the frosted office window in the room that had been our hospice command post for the last six days. The silence was deafening. All the hospice nurses had left, and I had finished making phone calls. My job was over. The quiet hovers over me like a black cloud.

Now what? Who am I?

My whole life was about caring for my parents. It didn’t change after I married or became a mother myself. My parents were my priority from the time I was born, just like I was for them. Because of my start in life that was full of illnesses and a learning disability that was hard to manage. My parents and I were inseparable. The three of us took care of one another. I am the youngest of four, but with a significant age gap, I felt like an only child.

At first, it was a give-and-take relationship. School was extremely difficult for me because of my dyslexia. Mom and Dad worked very hard to help me. Through the years, Mom developed a lot of health issues. So I did everything I could to learn how to make life less painful for her. My Dad needed to work, so my care of Mom would ease his stress on him. This worked for a long time.

It was only natural that my identity got wrapped up in taking care of Mom and Dad. I was always there with them. Making sure they were happy, not fighting too much, and giving a hand when one was ill. It turned into my career; I had the unspoken title of “caregiver” among my family, friends, and acquaintances.

There was no them without me and no me without them. Through the years, it changed into caregiver first, mother to my kids second, and wife third. That was just how it played out.

In my 48 years of life, everyday was dedicated to the to the needs, wants, and medical care of my parents. I knew nothing else but to be there for them. Yes, there were tough times. I got tired, resentful of always being on the clock. Even in a typical 9-5 job, people received days off and vacation time. Not my job. I was on call 24/7, 365 days of the year. Don’t get me wrong, I loved them and being my parents caregiver taught me a lot.

When I lost Mom 2 ½ years ago, my pace of caregiver only increased as my Dad’s heart was failing. After 22 months, he passed away…….

So, as I stood in the office watching the taillights of the Hearst turn the corner, the red lights blink out of my sight. I felt panic, pain, and unbearable sadness. Not only had I just lost my last parent, I had lost my identity.

I go back to the question I posed earlier.

Now what? Who am I?

My entire identity was “caregiver” to Mom and Dad. At that moment, when Dad took his last breath, my identity passed with him. I am now an orphan daughter who just lost her parents in rapid succession. And as I struggled with grief from losing my Dad, there was a new grief in losing of my identity.

Where do I go from here?

As the months ticked by, I worked through my feelings on finding a new identity, one that didn’t involve being a caregiver. A turning point in my life that came with fear of the unknown. Fear of the “what ifs,” fear of this being my only known identity.

Deep down, I was more than just a caregiver; I am a devoted wife, mother, and dog mom. The excitement of putting my family first and engaging in fun activities warms my soul with joy. As an artist, photographer, storyteller who never had the time or space to focus on it, I am standing on a mountaintop of a new beginning.

With my paintbrush in my hand, I am mesmerized by the blank canvas before me. This canvas will be painted with vibrant colors, words, stories, humor, poetry, and photos. It's purpose will be to evoke laugher, reflection, and connection among others.

I am at a crossroad of my very existence, it’s an overwhelming farewell to the “The Caregiver” a role that I wore like comforting cloak my whole life. A new persona will be birthed on my canvas of life. The dramatic artistic wordsmith that had been slumbering within in my soul.

Will it hold a space for what I was, “The Caregiver,” to my beloved parents? Yes. Because is was this transformative journey that molded me into the person I am now. It is time to unveil my true self, to raise the red velvet curtain that concealed my canvas for so long, and allowing for self-discovery to take my center stage.