[title text=”Guest post by Amy L. Bovaird”]

Amy Bovaird suffers from Retinitis Pigmentosa, a progressive vision disorder. Yet she is the primary caregiver for her aging mother. Below is an example of how Amy finds hope in her daily adventures – even in a pair of pink slippers

“Make sure you don’t drop my hearing aids,” my mother warned, as she did every morning. I’ve never once dropped them.

As a capable vision-impaired person, I rolled my eyes and feigned a pleasant tone. “Don’t worry. I won’t.”

Mom seemed impatient, maybe because her wrist hurt. After a fall down the stairs, she was scheduled for more X-rays.

I fumbled in the dim kitchen and tried to make hot tea to suit Mom. She insisted I pour exactly one cup of water into the kettle. Because it wasn’t a whistling tea kettle, my mother made it a competition between us as to who could see the steam rise first.

If she noticed it, she urgently alerted me. “The tea water’s boiling away! Hurry up, turn it off.” This time, thankfully, I saw the steam first.

Later, we moved to the bedroom so I could help Mom dress. After I snagged Mom’s cast in the sleeve of her robe, I tried to wrestle it free without hurting her.

When I lifted her long underwear shirt off, her head got stuck in the neck opening. “Hey! That’s my head, you know.”

“Sorry, I couldn’t see. If you’re going to be mean, I’m not going to help you.”

“You’re the mean one.”

“I didn’t ask for this job, but this is what I have to do,” I mumbled, proceeding to help her dress.

Later that day, I said, “Here Mom, let’s take your shoes off and change into your slippers.” I bent over to remove her shoes and place her slippers on her feet.

She pointed to her left foot. “Look! You put one on backwards.”

“Are you kidding me?”

She laughed. “See for yourself!”

I noticed the dainty pink bow in the back of the slipper and laughed, too. How could I have missed that pretty pink bow? It reminded me of the finishing touch on a gift.

That’s when it hit me: with my poor vision and the stress of caregiving, I’d missed out on seeing Mom as a gift.

Too many times, we develop frustration toward the challenges God allows in our lives without realizing these are like speed bumps to slow us down and appreciate what He’s given us.

I needed to turn that slipper around in order to see the bow. Just like I needed to turn my feelings around in order to see that my beautiful mother was one of the greatest gifts God has ever given me.

 

Finding Hope in Pink Slippers by Amy L. Bovaird | The Caregiver SpaceAmy Bovaird is a vision-impaired Christian author, experienced world traveler and caretaker for her elderly mother. She lives in Pennsylvania and blogs about the challenges she faces as she loses more vision but more importantly, she shares the lessons God reveals to her through her difficulties. Check out Amy’s Facebook author page.

 

Written by Guest Author
The Caregiver Space accepts contributions from experts for The Caregiver's Toolbox and provides a platform for all caregivers in Caregiver Stories. Please read our author guidelines for more information and use our contact form to submit guest articles.

Related Articles

Tidewrack

Tidewrack

It was two months after Mum died. I would not meet anyone. I would not answer messages. I would not talk about my feelings. I didn’t want to chat. I...

Elderly and imprisoned

Elderly and imprisoned

"Efforts to reduce the aging prison population are driven not solely by compassion but also by the tremendous cost of incarcerating older people....

Popular categories

Finances
Burnout
After Caregiving
Housing
Relationships
Finding Meaning
Planning
Dying
Finding Support
Work
Grief

Don't see what you're looking for? Search the library

Share your thoughts

1 Comment

  1. Thank you for sharing your caregiving journey. Excellent post. God Bless.

    Reply

Share your thoughts and experiences

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Join our communities

Whenever you want to talk, there’s always someone up in one of our Facebook communities.

These private Facebook groups are a space for support and encouragement — or getting it off your chest.

Join our newsletter

Thoughts on care work from Cori, our director, that hit your inbox each Monday morning (more-or-less).

There are no grand solutions, but there are countless little ways to make our lives better.

Share your insights

Caregivers have wisdom and experience to share. Researchers, product developers, and members of the media are eager to understand the nature of care work and make a difference.

We have a group specifically to connect you so we can bring about change.