By Vicki Rackner, M.D.
Mary said, “Ever since I was a little girl, I dreamed of being a painter. I imagined myself in a field of wildflowers with my easel. My parents convinced me to do something practical, so I became a teacher. Then I married and had three kids of my own. I always hoped I could squeeze in a little painting, but it never seemed to happen. I was too busy taking care of my students or my husband or kids. When my youngest left home, I thought it was finally time for me to paint. Then I got the call with the news that Mom had a stroke. Now I take care of her. I have been so busy taking care of other people I wonder whatever happened to my hopes and dreams.”
Sound familiar?
Caregivers often tune into the hopes and dreams of others. We help care for others, neglecting ourselves. Caregivers often go through a balancing act, asking themselves, “Whose hopes and dreams are most important right now?”
When someone you love becomes sick or frail, the hope to help them alleviate pain and suffering often makes your hope to paint, garden, or even “sleep in” appear frivolous. You make sacrifices for others.
Cost of Lost Dreams
Consider the cost of your own lost dreams. Mary says, “Sure I could live my life if I never painted. I’ve already lived close to 50 years without putting brush on canvas. But then I imagine being confined in my wheelchair like Mom, without the full use of my painting hand. A little part of me dies when I think about dying with my paintings still inside me.”
What do you do with your hopes for your own life, particularly at a time when the needs of others are so compelling?
Hopes and dreams are magical. They offer the strength to move forward. They are the glimmer of light in dark days.
Consider a beautiful vase filled with flowers from the garden. Over the season of a garden, different flowers are available for plucking. Even in the dead of winter when there are no flowers in sight, a cut twig placed in the vase can be beautiful.
Hope is like the vase that contains your sweet-smelling colorful dreams. Dreams, like flowers, change over the seasons of life and the stages of caregiving. You can always place a dream in the vessel of hope.
I think of hope as the optimistic belief that you can expect a better tomorrow. Sometimes that better tomorrow happens as a result of something that changes in the outside world – such as a new drug or unexpected help. Sometimes the better tomorrow arrives because you see things from a new perspective. You recognize you always have options.
Here are some tips for hanging onto hope and, at the same time, balancing the dreams of your loved one with your very own dreams.
Define your Hopes and Dreams
Pretend you’re on a tropical island and everyone you love has their needs tended to. If you had a magic wand, what would you wish for? Write down all of your ideas, no matter how wild and crazy. What do you want to do? Perform at Carnegie Hall? Write a book? Design and produce magnificent wedding dresses? Play golf with the pros?
You may unearth a fantasy that you’ve had since childhood.
If you’re like many, these dreams have been buried. When you reconnect with them, you may be giddy with joy. Let the joy of the dream wash over you.
Indulge the fantasy of the dream. Close your eyes and imagine it. Write a story about it. Make a collage depicting your dream. Share it with a friend with the specific instructions that the friend is simply to celebrate the joy of the dream with you, and not talk you out of it or take action steps.
Collect a Tiny Piece of Your Dream
Is there any way you can spend a moment or two a day indulging in your dream? You might not be able to paint complex landscapes, but you might spend 10 minutes sketching. Maybe you can join on online chat group that shares your interest. Or put a picture of your dream destination on your bureau. These small efforts can keep your hopes for your dreams alive.
Use Caution when Sharing Your Dreams
Dreams are fragile, like tender new seedlings. They can be stomped by well-intentioned friends and relatives who want to protect you from disappointment. Be cautious when sharing your dream. Remember: it is your dream.
Manage your Guilt
Your dream may involve caring for the ones you love selflessly. By indulging your dreams that involve nurturing yourself instead of others, you may feel guilty. Remember that what you may feel as guilt is the belief that you are not being the best you can be. Fulfilling your dreams, even in a small way, can help you be the best you can be.
Mourn the Loss of the Old Dream
Childhood dreams are created in the minds of children and do not have a place in the paradoxes and complexities and uncertainties of adult life. It’s true that you might not be the nurse or beauty queen or firefighter that you imagined as a child. It may be time to say a little funeral for the loss of the dream in that form. The loss of a dream can be painful. Mourning the loss of a dream brings healing.
Create a New Dream
You can still have hopes and dreams! They’re just different now that you’re an adult with adult demands in your life. Maybe the dream of being a nurse is replaced with the awareness that you are nursing your loved one. You may not have the crown of a beauty queen, but you see beauty in yourself and others. As a caregiver you come to the aid of those in crisis. Alter your dreams so that they fit into your life and guide your day-to-day choices.
Hang onto Hope
No matter how desperate the situation, you can still hope for the dream. The dream will change as the condition of your loved one changes. Sometimes the dream is the recognition of a subtle choice where none was seen before. Still, there are always choices.
Your loved one is a flesh-and-blood reminder that our days are limited. Yes, of course, be the best caregiver you can be. But also dream. Your investment in a taste of your dreams will make the moments of caregiving sweeter.
and share your thoughts with other
Strength for Caring members.
To comment on an article you will need to
I used to blow glass figurines in my basement. You know, elephants, clowns, butterflies etc.. When I became a single parent of 4 children, I moved into an apartment and didn't have the space to do this. I started oil painting and loved this until my youngest son became a paraplegic and I lost my free time.
But in my mind, I create beautiful glass sculptures and fantastic murals. In my mind I live my dream of building my own home in the wilderness.
I spend a dollar a week on the lottery to keep the possibility alive that I will someday have the means to make all my dreams come true. Not to be rich. Not to be powerful. I dream of having time and space and the funds to create the art of my dreams.
Sometime the dream is all that is needed. In my dreams, I am successful in all my creations. No second guessing, no shoulda, coulda's. Everything comes out right!
Up in NY state, the lotto ad used to go, "All you need is a dollar and a dream!"
I don't know what I'd do if I lost my imaginary studio. The dream keeps me alive!