Working

Last week I was called by a woman in my ABF. A woman I'm in choir with mentioned my name when the first woman started talking about a need for someone to be a companion for her mother since her dad just died. First woman called me. I met with her and her sister and was oriented to the expectations of the job. It sounded like something I could do. Pay wasn't that much, but it would be about 40 hours a week.

After meeting with them, I felt I should own up to my particular background issues. I sent an email explaining my situation and letting her know that I would understand if they felt it would be problematic. They responded, letting me know that they were still wanting to work with me. I started work on Sunday.

I am a companion for an 85ish year old woman. She's very sweet. She can care for herself personally and gets around pretty well. Too well at times. She is fiercely independent, but doesn't realize her limitations physically or cognitively. The challenge is to be there, but not hover or sit on her. Today when she was out in the yard sweeping under the trees I told her she was going to get us both in trouble if she didn't start using her cane. After her nap, I heard her thumping around in the bedroom only to find her trying to figure out how to take the AC out of the window.

This job is challenging for me, because I'm a doer and it's better to be a sitter and a be-er. On Sunday I ran down the battery on my Palm Pilot and my laptop and read half a book. Today I sat out in the yard with Ma'am for an hour. It was a nice sit, we chatted a little and sat a lot. At one point it dawned on me that perhaps we sat too long as eight mamouth vultures began swirling overhead.

I don't know how long this job will last. I have a lot to learn with it and from it. It's probably one of the hardest jobs I've ever had--because it's really causing me to stretch.