“You’re can become a genius at anything–if you’re willing to make all the mistakes necessary to find the right answer.” Those are the words of Dr. Michio Kaku, MIT physicist. Boy, does that sound like caregiving or what! I made lots of blunders while caring for my mom (she had Parkinson’s, heart disease and Alzheimer’s). It was a pretty steep learning curve. I was a sandwich generation mom with more balls to juggle than a circus clown. Mistakes were my middle name.
Being a genius isn’t about being gifted. It’s about perseverance.
I was watching a special on the Science Channel and was amazed at how long it took for Einstein to prove his theory of general relativity. In his early twenties, he had an epiphany while riding on a train.
He noticed the telegram poles whizzing by and he questioned, if he were to throw a ball down, it would appear to him to go straight down–and straight back up to him. But if someone were observing this while standing on the platform, they would see that the ball was moving forward–and down–and forward and up. He then took this concept and applied it to space and time.
From this initial thought, Einstein became a genius at physics. Not because math came easy to him (he realized later that his initial math was flawed) , but moreso because he stuck with it–even when he felt defeated and confused.
It took more than a decade for those initial thoughts to evolve and finally proven.
At times, he felt like a failure, but he kept on–he had to. He was after something bigger than himself.
As much as you feel like you’re bungling your way through your caregiving journey, you’re learning what works and what doesn’t–and I bet you could tell me a few things you’ve begun to figure out. Most adults don’t like to screw up. They have the wrong kind of pride. You have to be willing to take risks, ask questions, and live with your failures if you’re ever going to have a break through. Caregiving will test you–physically, emotionally, and spiritually.
Genius is believing that what you’re doing is important and worth the dark nights of the soul necessary.
What have you learned doesn’t work? Maybe a cane doesn’t work for your mom, your dad, or your spouse–while it may work for someone else, it doesn’t fly in your neck of the woods and no physical therapist is going to convince you.
What does work? Maybe you’ve found a solution–one that only trial and error would have uncovered. Maybe you can get your dad who has Alzheimer’s to calm down by humming the tune he danced to at his wedding–and it works every time. That’s genius. Only the two of you will ever know this little secret, but it saves you much anxiety.
You’ve earned your stripes. You’re a good caregiver. Perfect, no. Some things are still in the development stage, but it’s time to pat yourself on the back and realize that what you’re doing–you’re pretty darn good at–so puff out your chest a bit and take a bow.
Caregiving is tough, but it’s not impossible. The little steps forward are hard-earned and worth noting.


