Letter 132: Caregiving is Community

When we know our place is alongside others

Rosalyn Carter once shared, “There are only four kinds of people in the world: Those who have been caregivers. Those who are currently caregivers. Those who will be caregivers, and those who will need a caregiver.” Alyson writes today about the love and essentialness of caregiving, offering her support to those she walks alongside. Her honest, heartfelt thoughts about caring for others are valuable and offer insight into Alyson’s values. Imagine a society where caregivers are the most amplified voices in the room. Imagine the strength and vulnerability possible for us all. —Molly

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“No [person] is an island, entire of itself; every [person] is a piece of the continent, a part of the main.”

—John Donne

“Hello?” she answered after the first ring.

“How long did you think it would take me to call you after you sent that email?” I asked with a smile that didn’t reach my eyes, keeping out the anxiety in my voice as best I could.

My friend laughed. My shoulders eased a bit.

After a short conversation and an even shorter one with our mutual friend, I had inserted myself firmly in the role of leader of the care team. The three of us would leave at 5:30 am the next day to make the trek across the state so that she could start her journey of dealing with a brain tumor. A brain tumor.

F*ck.

When I arrived at her house, she was flustered; her hair still wet from the shower. Fortunately, or not, I knew what she needed to bring for her surgery the next day.

“Do you have your phone charger?”

“ID and insurance cards?”

“Yes, bring your PJs. Eventually, they will let you out of the hospital gown.”

“No, leave the slippers. The hospital socks have more grip than those.”

And so on.

This was all too familiar.

I try to bring cheer to hospital rooms in big and small ways.

My mom, only a few weeks before, had returned home from the same city after her stint with brain surgery, albeit for a very different type of procedure and circumstance. I’ve become intimately familiar with this drive.

Unlike the ones with Mom, this drive was sudden, leaving us unable to process what was happening.

So, I stuck with my checklist. I woke early enough to heat three homemade breakfast burritos, fill up on gas, and buy road trip snacks. I was determined to make it feel as normal as I could when taking a member of my found family to have a brain tumor removed.

It’s what I do.

I’m a caregiver.

It’s a role I didn’t own until recently. There is nothing glamorous about it. No one rewards you for this labor. It’s not something you typically put on a resume.

And yet, it might be the most essential role one can have in life.

Unfortunately, our society has decided there is not much value in caregiving. Capitalism requires production. Tangible production. It’s difficult for a capitalist system to place value on caregiving, which is why those who work jobs centered around care are often underpaid and undervalued.

This is ironic because we all need to be cared for. Care is vital to our survival.

My friend, Elizabeth, who is using her strength to battle brain cancer, holds a sign that reads “Strong women will change the world.”

With that connection comes a responsibility to one another—to care about how something affects someone else. That’s why I no longer mind my new title, caregiver.

Because to be a caregiver is to be in community with others.

That’s why my friend reached out to me that day. She knew I could help. My experience with my mom’s surgery made me more comfortable being in the surgeon’s office with my friend, advocating and listening closely, taking careful notes to pass on to her family, and making sure she wasn't alone.

Caregiving has given me a gift I didn’t expect.

We have the opportunity to show up for people, to provide attention and distraction when they are scared and overwhelmed, to deepen a connection that gives us power, hope, and strength to hold on to as the waves of life push us forward.

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Alyson’s 5 Favorite Things:

• Lately, I’m devouring a lot of fantasy and science fiction novels. Narrowing down to my favorite is challenging, but When Women Were Dragons by Kelly Barnhill is a standout novel. I love how empowering and inclusive it is, reminding me that taking up space is okay. 

• While my mom is a big fan of desserts daily, I’ve never been one. That is, until I was at a friend’s house, and she melted dark chocolate to serve with fresh strawberries. It’s become a regular feature of dinners at my house ever since. 

• House plants. I made it through COVID lockdown without falling into the house plant phase, but it’s finally caught me. I love my new wall-mounted plants especially.

• This seems silly to share, but the new laundry sorter is a game-changer for me. Instead of carting all the laundry downstairs, making piles on the living room floor, and having to do load after load, I now do the full bag. Laundry is miraculously simple now. 

• I bought these amazing 1440-thread count sheets on sale at Macy’s, and I don’t want any other set of sheets ever again. I might even pay full price for them, but…I will probably wait until they are on sale again. 

In gratitude,

Alyson Roberts

P.S. Caregiving is about paying attention. Jess wrote beautifully in Letter 92 about pausing and listening to what she needed the most: caring for herself.