Self-Care Is How We Stay in This

I had never heard anything about self-care until after my wife and I became full-time caregivers for our grandson, Asher. It initially felt like an alien concept to me, and it seemed a bit self-centered. It sounded like encouragement to take care of Number One above all things, and I had trouble with that. After all, Karin and I had to focus on Asher, who was just a tiny baby when we started being his foster parents. Being there for Asher was, and often still is, an all-consuming activity.

The plan at first was for Karin and me to act as foster parents for only a limited period of time, maybe for a year or so. That scenario did not work out. That time frame dragged out to 18 months, and eventually our role as foster parents morphed into being Asher’s legal guardians. We came to the realization that our commitment to raising Asher was open-ended. We were his caregivers for the duration. We were in it for the long term.

I think for me that epiphany is what changed my mind about self-care. I finally knew that I was not involved in a sprint. I was running a marathon, and so was my wife. We had to take care of ourselves in order to care for Asher. We had to learn how to pace ourselves and how to share the burden. Karin and I became acutely aware of how much we needed each other. In a way, caring for Asher makes our marriage stronger because we have to work together to raise Asher. Neither of us can do the job alone. We have a common goal.

This being the case, we have to avoid burnout. We have to keep tabs on each other’s health and well-being. The most often asked question in our home is, “Are you okay?” This is not a frivolous question. We really need to know. Likewise, Asher also asks us this same question because he needs to know that we are able to be there for him. He depends on us for stability and safety.

Karin and I give each other permission to take breaks. She gets to go to her knitting groups. I get to meet with my friends for coffee or a beer. We take turns watching over Asher. We are able to get support from our friends. We are concerned for each other out of love, and also from a sort of enlightened self-interest. We cannot afford to have either of us flame out. Both of us have to be functioning in order to provide for Asher. In the end, it all revolves around Asher.

Self-care is not selfish. It is simply accepting the fact that we are mere mortals with limitations. As a friend told me, “It does no good to set yourself on fire to keep somebody else warm.”

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Frank is a former Army aviator, a longtime trucking-company supervisor, and a contributor to The Havok Journal. A West Point graduate from the Class of 1980, he completed the Military Intelligence Basic Course and flight school, served with the 3rd Armored Division in West Germany and the 7th Infantry Division at Fort Ord, and left the Army in 1986. He later taught citizenship classes through Voces de la Frontera in Milwaukee, took part in peace and protest work, and writes largely about veterans, family, grief, and the long aftermath of military service.

As the Voice of the Veteran Community, The Havok Journal seeks to publish a variety of perspectives on a number of sensitive subjects. Unless specifically noted otherwise, nothing we publish is an official point of view of The Havok Journal or any part of the U.S. government.