Grieving and Kinship Caregiving

So often during the past four years I felt angry.  I was angry with my daughter.  I was angry with my grandson’s father. I was angry with the other grandparents and relatives.  I was angry with my friends. I was angry with the government.  I was angry with the court system.  I was angry with the police.  I was angry. 

At least I thought I was.

On January 2, 2007 my best friend died from cancer.  I was with her when she died.  It was one of the saddest moments of my life.  Every day I missed her for at least two solid years.  Every single day I thought about her and my heart would ache.  She was only 42 years old.

At some point, I stopped thinking about her every single day.  At some point, the heaviness in my heart lightened. I don’t know what day that happened, but it did.  The sadness eased up and eventually left.  Today when I think of my friend, I don’t feel that deep, aching sadness.    

Grieving the death of my friend is how it felt becoming a kinship caregiver.  Grieving is feeling the brokenness in our heart.  Grieving is caused by feeling a loss.  

In the beginning, I was a broken-hearted kinship caregiver, trying to provide care, when my heart was broken. Certainly there were things to feel angry about, but in hindsight, I believe I was grieving more than I was angry.  

I lost my daughter to meth addiction.  Sure, she is alive, but she is gone. I cannot tell you where she is today.  She has no known phone number to call her.  She has no known address.  She is homeless and that is so sad to me. I love her and I miss her.  This is my loss.

I was grieving because my grandson had so many delays in his development.  His pediatrician states they are likely due to neglect. He needed weekly therapies for speech, fine motor skills and gross motor skills.  That makes me sad.  This is my loss.

I was grieving my life.  I thought I was done raising kids.  I had earned my bachelor’s degree at age 40, was starting an actual “career” instead of a “job”, and was making plans and having goals.  Suddenly, plans changed.  My dreams for my career had to be revised.  This is my loss.

For me it is important to remember pain and loss are a part of everyone’s life.  The more alone or unique I think I am with my pain and loss, the longer I stay stuck. 

The best thing I did was reach out for support.  It is important to know there are other kinship caregivers who have experienced many of the same feelings.  They have walked this difficult path, know the challenges, the losses, and are living in the sunlight.  Yes, there is sunlight after the initial darkness.  They give me hope and strength.

If you are grieving, give yourself time, and know that you will come through this.  You will laugh again.  Very likely, it will be that very person you are caring for who will put the smile on your face and laughter in your heart.  You’ll see. 

I am a grandma raising my grandson.  It’s all good.

Shame, shame, shame

Sometimes I feel ashamed I am raising my grandson. After all, there is that saying, “the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree”.  Ouch.

Sometimes I think it’s my “fault” that my daughter is an addict and not raising her son.

Maybe I didn’t do enough or did too much.  Maybe I should have tried harder or prayed more.  Maybe, because I had my own issues to deal with in life, I created her problems. All the maybe’s……

I was not a fabulous parent.  I sure wasn’t Betty Crocker.  But I did not neglect my children, never provide for them or ever stop loving them.  I also know when it comes to trying to be a good parent, I did do my best with what I knew how to do at the time. 

When my daughter was just a toddler I knew there was something not quite right with her behavior.  I didn’t know what that something was, but I tried my hardest to figure it out and get her help.  By the time she was five years old, I was driving two hours away for her to see a child psychologist.  It didn’t help.

This was back in the late 80’s.  Therapists were not diagnosing kids with ADD, ADHD, oppositional defiance, or obsessive/compulsive behavior.  Yet, by the time she was into her “tweens”, she was diagnosed (labeled) with all of these, plus depressed, anxious, bipolar, borderline personality disorder and more.  By the time she was 18 she qualified for government disability payments.

By the time she was 18, she was already an addict.

My daughter has an addiction – not a parenting problem.  Alanon has a saying that I tell myself often:  I didn’t cause it, can’t control it, and can’t cure it.  Sometimes I have to replay that statement over and over in my mind.

Shakespeare suggested, “There is nothing either good or bad but thinking makes it so.”  I practice watching my thoughts and choose to focus on what is right rather than what is wrong. When I get down, I get a piece of paper and write out what I am grateful for.  This action of purposeful redirection of my thoughts helps me. It only takes only a couple minutes to jot down a list. Making a list stops my anxieties from getting the best of me.

Today I am not concerned if “the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree”.  I am a good tree!

I am a grandma raising my grandson.  It’s all good.

Boundaries with Family

Today the topic is boundaries. I have not always had very good boundaries throughout my life.  I have to make very conscious efforts to have boundaries.  My first reaction is to always want to defend myself in retaliation to hurtful words.  I get busy trying to make my point or defend myself.  It never occurred to me there are other options – like having boundaries.

My daughter posted a photo of herself yesterday on Facebook.  She has lost a lot of weight and hair – side effects of meth. 

I saw the picture and I saw all the “likes” people were giving the photo. How do people give a “thumbs up” to people who are killing themselves from drug use, who have lost their families to their drug addiction?

One “friend” on her Facebook page commented she didn’t look so good.  I agreed, so I entered a comment that she doesn’t look good, gave the number for Teen Challenge – a treatment center – and wrote I hope she will call them.  In response, she replied, “Can’t you ever say anything nice?” and added several hurtful, spiteful comments.  The words were vulgar and included profanity.  I guess she really wanted to make a point.....

Quite suddenly I realized I don’t have to take this!  I did something I never would have thought to do in the past.  I unsubscribed from her on Facebook. 

Oh that was hard!  Following my daughter on Facebook has been my only method to know she is even alive.  Yet, I finally have enough sense to know I don’t need to be called names by anyone – including my daughter.  

This is the sad truth of raising a relative whose parent(s) are lost in drug addiction. We hope for the best, we say prayers for their wellbeing. We worry. In the end, it’s out of our control. I can focus on what is possible – to take good care of her son and my grandson, raise him with love, and do my best to help hep him know the good things about his mom.  My daughter is not all bad.  She is very sick, caught up in meth addiction. It is not her we don't like or get angry with.  It's meth.

A mentor once told me the more I try to “help”, the more I am telling my God that I don’t trust He will care for her.  It is not my job to be her “Higher Power”.  Thinking about that has helped me.

It’s in God’s hands, not mine.  He knows the big picture, not me.  He will keep her safe or bring her home.  Meanwhile, I will stay focused and what I can do – love the family and friends who are here.

Accepting the Seemingly Unacceptable

In a fellowship I belong to, there is a saying “acceptance is key to everything”.  The longer we fight accepting something, the longer we stay stuck or miserable. I find it is so hard to accept things I just don’t want to accept.  The past three years were very difficult raising my grandson.  I could not or would not accept the situation was not a temporary situation.

I thought when I got my grandson surely it would be my daughter’s “bottom” and she would go to treatment, get well and he would go back to her.  That’s what a “good” parent does, right? It didn’t happen.

I next thought that surely his dad would raise him since he has been actively “involved” with his son since I got him.  That didn’t happen and he doesn’t want to fulltime parent.

A year ago I finally went to see a counselor.  She has been a big help, guiding me through my feelings.  I have finally come to true acceptance.  I am a permanent “parent” and will be raising my grandson. 

It is good to come to peace with this.  I don’t know why it took three years to get here.  I suppose in my selfishness, I wanted MY life back.  I didn’t want to deal with developmental delays, occupational therapies, speech therapies, physical therapies, high daycare bills, doctor appointments, meltdowns, bedtimes, potty training.  It felt like I was going backwards with my life instead of forward.

Finally I am at peace with the situation.  I can let myself enjoy the moments, instead of waiting for the moments to end and have my life back.  I laugh again more instead of cry.

One thing my counselor told me is that it will get easier as my grandson gets older.  She is right.  Now that he is five, can talk in a way I can understand, it is easier.  Sometimes he regresses in his behavior, like after his mom left again.  Yet, when he does, I know it’s just a temporary situation.  I can finally truly enjoy him.  Yes, he still has delays in his development, but he has come so far.

How nice it feels to accept what I thought I would never be able to accept – I am raising my grandson.  I am one of over two million other relatives raising a relative.  We are so brave and courageous.  We are loyal to our families.  I feel good about that now, and at peace.  Finally.

Acceptance is key to everything.  Acceptance is not saying you like something, agree with something.  It is just saying I am okay with this.

Remember the saying “it takes a village to raise a child”?  I think it takes a family to raise a child.  I am grateful today for my family. 

I am a grandparent raising my grandson.  It’s all good.