Kinship Care: The "F" Word

Hey you all! I am back!! This is my last week of graduate school. Hopefully by this time next week I will be 100% done with all my school work. I have missed being here, telling you my stories of kinship care. I want to thank you all for being patient with me. It was a grind – but we did it!!!

I have been thinking a lot lately about the “F” words – you know the ones, FAIR and FEAR. Today I will talk about fair.

It does not seem fair that I take so much responsibility for a child I love so much, but never imagined would be my responsibility to raise, to keep safe, to handle all the hurts, the tears, and the confusion he feels. Granted, I do get the good stuff too – all the hugs, the “I love you grandma” and just plain laughter.

I will tell you the truth that I believe many kinship caregivers face – we get days when it is so incredibly difficult to not feel very angry at the parents. I have written about some of those days.

My third grandson was born in March. I was so happy for my son and his wife. Everything went perfect, with no complications. My grandson and I drove to the hospital excited to see our newest family member. Of course, Murphy’s Law would happen. The moment I parked my car, my cell phone rang. I saw the number and knew it was my daughter. Here’s the dilemma – should I answer? When she calls, it’s usually a request to drop whatever I am doing and do something for her.

Out of respect for my son, I had not discussed they were expecting a baby. She knew they were, but I just didn’t talk about it with her. It’s complicated – like most decisions are with kinship care. My daughter asked to speak with her son and he told his mom he was going to see his uncles’ baby. He was excited. He gave the phone back to me. My daughter asked me to take some photos with my phone and send her some pictures. I told her I would not because her brother would not appreciate that. She hissed back, “Well, it’s only fair since I can’t see him”.

I think my brain exploded. Fair! Did she really say “fair”? I mean seriously!

I think every kinship caregiver who is raising a relative because the parents are either addicts, alcoholics, or in jail – which is the large majority of us – would all feel the same shock. It seems like the last person to talk about fairness would be the parent.

I know drug and alcohol addiction makes it impossible for her to see the truth. That’s how I coped with her statement – and continue to always remind myself. She is sick – physically, mentally and spiritually. She doesn’t understand because she is sick and can’t understand.

It’s not fair. Nobody said being a kinship caregiver would be fair, feel fair, or look fair. In fact, it’s not fair. That is the reality of kinship care and we see the reality every time we look at our child relative.

Let’s face it. Things weren’t fair when we were a kid and whined to our parents, “it’s not fair!”. Maybe that feeling of injustice carries into adulthood. However, by now we have the sense to know that even though something may not feel fair, it can still be the right thing to do. It’s time to get over the, “it’s not fair!”

I am a grandma raising my grandson. It’s all good. And I am glad to be back.

Just a reminder:  please come visit me at my website - which is where I will be moving this blog to:  www.raisingkin.com. 

Kinship Caring: Missing Mom Moments

Being a kinship caregiver has some heartbreaking moments.  It’s always a dilemma for me to figure out the best way to comfort my grandson when he misses his mom.  Thank God for other kinship caregivers who share their wisdom and stories.

This past week, my grandson heard me talking on the phone with his grandfather.  When the phone call ended, I looked at him and could see he was troubled.  He asked me what we were talking about.

I told him that his grandpa called because he was worried about his mom and wanted to know if we had heard from her. 

“Grandma, can I say a bad word?” he asked.  I wanted to know what his five-year old mind was thinking about, so I said, “Yes, you can say a bad word this one time”.

His voice got soft and quiet.  He whispered, “This is not nice, but I have to say it.  I hate mom.” And then he put his head in my chest, as if to cover his face.  I held him.  Then he said, “I love my mom”.

I told my grandson, “You know what? Sometimes I miss your mom so much. Sometimes I am so angry with your mom because I want her to come home.  I love you, buddy. We just miss your mom.”  

He stayed in my arms for a few minutes.  We didn’t talk.  We didn’t need to.  We just sat in the kitchen, hugging each other and missing mom. 

Then it was time to color pictures and be five.

It is not easy to have these conversations.  It breaks my heart to see him hurting.

I know it is not good to stay focused on what is wrong in life.  When I do that, I feel angry and bitter which doesn’t solve anything or make anything any easier. I miss out on life’s good stuff if I stay angry and bitter.

When I look for the good, I can find it.  When I look for bad, I can find it.  I am going to look for the good.  I was able to help my grandson when he was sad.  That’s a good thing. 

I am a grandma raising my grandson.  Yes, it’s all good.

Kinship Caring: A Safety Net

Custodial grandparents provide a safey net for our grandchildren when the parent(s) are not involved with their child(ren). We know their parents. I think it helps our grandchildren that we do know the parents.  As grandparents, we can give our granchildren love, security, stability and patience perhaps more than a foster home can.  Researchers Hayslip & Kaminski (2005) made the same observation.

I do feel I am a "safety net" for my grandson.  I am my grandson’s link to knowing his mom.  Based only on my life experiences, it seems no matter how “bad” a parent is, most kids are still going to hold their mom and dad in high esteem.  My grandson is too little to understand drugs.  However, he does understand that his family loves him and that families can be made in all kinds of ways. 

The holidays went by without his mom.  Not even a phone call.  He didn’t talk about his mom being gone over the holidays.  It wasn’t until after Christmas was over and the tree was down that he mentioned her.  What he said was so sad.  “Grandma, my mom doesn’t want to see me.”

My heart ached for him.  What could I say? 

I tried to tell him (again) that when people take drugs, they forget about their family because that is what drugs do.

This time I added, “I know your mom does miss you.  I know your mom loves you.  In fact, your mom knew she might not be able to take care of you and that’s why you live with me.  She picked me to take care of you!  When you were just a baby your mom called ME to come get you because she wanted you to be with her mom.  She knew I would love you and she wants me to love you while she is gone.”

He thought about that.

“You are my mom?” he asked, trying to follow along with his little five-year old reasoning.

“Well, I am your mom’s mom and I am sort of your mom because I am your GRAND mom.” I replied.

The conversation then shifted to more serious topics, like is Spider Man stronger than the Hulk?

I know this conversation will come up again – maybe soon, maybe not.  But it will come up again.

I am the safety net for him.  That’s what kinship caregivers do.  We fill that void of the missing parent.  We make sure they know they have family who loves them.  Many will, like me, try to let their child relative know that although they are not with the parent(s), they are with family.  I think that is important. I also believe that is why we do what we do.  There is no financial incentive to be the safety net.  In fact, most kinship caregivers take a huge financial setback to raise their relative(s).  But we are family and families are made in all kinds of ways.

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

Reference:

Hayslip Jr., B. & Kaminski, P. L. (2005). Grandparents raising their grandchildren: A review of the literature and suggestions for practice. The Gerontologist, (45)2, pp. 262-269.

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.

Depression and kinship caring

As I read research about the health and wellbeing of kinship caregivers, I learn there is an increase in health problems that are seemingly related to caring for our relative. Although I do have bouts with depression, I would not tie the problem exclusively to being a kinship caregiver. I wonder how researchers make that leap.

When a relative takes on the “parenting” role for a relative, there typically is a traumatic life event that has happened – for both the child(ren) and the relative caregiver. The first time my grandson was placed with me, it was because a drug raid took place at his parents’ home. I received a call from my daughter asking me to take her son or he would go to foster care. I had less than a minute to make this decision! And that is a big decision to make. I was trying to process what she was telling me – the police were at her home, they were looking for drugs, she was going to jail, and a social worker was taking her son! That is a lot of information to take in!

I quickly agreed to take my grandson, but I had no idea at that time what that decision would mean.

Was I depressed? Of course I was! My daughter was arrested, my grandson was with me on a fulltime basis, and there were many uncertainties to figure out. How would I continue working fulltime in a job I just started three weeks before the phone call? How would I afford to buy formula, diapers, and clothing? Where would I get help to pay daycare that was over $200 per week for an “infant”? Who would help? Would I qualify for any help?

My point is, dramatic life events such as this one are bound to impact the emotional well-being of anyone! Was my depression or sadness from caring for my grandson or was it due to trying to process everything that was happening and making very big adjustments to my day-to-day life as I knew it? I think it is both and tying my depression exclusively to raising my grandson is not a true statement.

I also have to wonder how the age of the kinship caregiver plays into the health issues. Wouldn’t it make sense that going through such a traumatic event would make any current health issue flare up? I know when I am feeling a lot of stress my rheumatoid arthritis flares up significantly. If a kinship caregiver is older and has health issues related to the normal aging process, wouldn’t they flare up?

I suppose there is truth stating our health suffers, but it seems a bit misleading. Older people generally do have aging health concerns. Stress can make them flare up. Is the source of the stress raising a child or is it grieving the loss of the parent. After all, it is not only the child who lost a parent, but in my case, I lost my daughter to drug addiction and honestly, I miss her too.