Hard Knock Assignments.

Do you ever get jobs you never applied for? Or answers to prayers you never made? That remains a paradox I’m yet to figure out. My mentor coach, George, often reminds me in our catch-ups that perhaps I’m resisting the path I’m meant to take in this journey of significance. It usually comes up when I update him on my progress and the milestones I’m yet to achieve. I tend to see the unplanned, unintended roles that come my way as distractions. My default reaction is to remove them from my path, or ignore them at least, yet they may be the gateway to the goals I want to achieve. Folks, perhaps the opportunities that find you with little effort on your part are the assignments you should focus on.

In life, the dots usually connect backwards. The trick is to resist the urge to force the dots to connect in a way that makes sense. Midlife—and consequently the second half of life—is often unscripted. There is more of life happening on its own terms and less of us attempting to plan and determine every outcome. That said, how then do we decide what to give attention to and what to pass over? Dancing in the moments we find ourselves in is a good strategy in midlife. Or take Laurie Ann Paul’s advice, “if you cannot know the best path forward, opt for the one you are most interested in discovering”

Having a personal mission statement comes in handy here. Mine is to use my gift (speaking) to help people find and live meaningful lives. Since I crafted it with the help of a coach some years back, it has acted as a litmus test for many decisions I have faced. If an opportunity or task aligns with my mission, then I take that as confirmation that it’s a go. If the job ahead doesn’t align with my mission and gift, then I let it pass. How do you decide what to take on and what to let pass, folks? Especially when you’re not sure? You need a way to sieve the wheat from the chaff.

That said, some responsibilities are thrust upon us, and we don’t have the luxury of choosing whether to take them up or not. I call those ‘hard knock’ assignments. It’s like being forced to attend the School of Hard Knocks when you didn’t even apply to join. It often feels like a punishment from Sir God, and we moan and groan because it’s not the kind of surprise we want. But will we only accept the good stuff from Him and reject the tough stuff? The Good Book in Romans 8:28 says, “God works all things together for the good of those who love him, who are called according to his purpose”.

That’s what led to a discussion I moderated this week: “The long goodbye.” For the last three years or so, my siblings and I have been caring for our dear mother. Age is doing its thing, plus her lifetime boyfie (our dad) leaving us four years ago has had its effect, I believe. Growing old is harder than teenage and midlife upheavals combined, in my view. I’m scared of growing old, especially the body beginning to shut down and the loss of near and dear ones with whom we have shared life.

As we age, loneliness and disease hit hard. We have to find a way to soften the blow. One way to do that is to have conversations about how to prepare not only for the inevitable, but also to care for those in our midst who need care.

I am the man I am largely because of my mother. She formed my view of life and taught me a lot—a huge chunk through the cane, hehe. To us, Mum’s discipline came across as assault. I’m the poster boy for ‘no pain, no gain’ as far as parenting goes, and my sister was my fellow victim. My bro was the collaborator who picked the biggest belt for my folks to unleash terror on us while growing up. We are still trying to forgive him, hehe.

The talk at Karen Country Club had a rich panel of experts who shared from a caregiver’s, legal, and medical angles. It was a big topic with little time. I hadn’t planned to moderate this event. As I mentioned earlier, the door opened without me knocking on it. There must’ve been a reason for that to happen, so I dove in and gave it my best shot after it had passed my litmus test. Doing a good thing, with good people, while having a good time appeals to me sana.

Caregiving isn’t a topic that’s addressed much, in my view. Caregiver burnout or fatigue is a reality that many struggle with in private. I remember attending a gathering organised by the Alzheimer’s and Dementia Organisation of Kenya (ADOK) and hearing the most shocking thing: there are cases where the caregiver has died before the patient due to burnout.

How many of us are caring for a loved one? It’s a long journey of pouring out continuously, especially because Africans don’t die (as one of the panellists joked). We give until we have nothing left to give, yet we are expected to continue. Caregivers need care, and that’s what we spent Wednesday evening discussing. I struggled to control the mic because many wanted to share their journey and seek guidance from the panellists. At some point, I was worried that our panel was getting overwhelmed, but they took it all in stride and gave as much as they could.

 Inevitably, a heavy mood would engulf the room as folks shared their deep struggles about caring for their loved ones. But we would prick that gloomy balloon with laughter now and then. One Mzee, who is caring for his wife living with dementia, made us laugh when he said how she would kiss him every morning. One day, she stopped after taking some medication, so he joked that he could now sue the doctor for the loss of his wife’s kisses. That was after our lawyer on the panel had educated us on how to manoeuvre the minefield of legal manenos brought about by memory loss.   

For me, my community grew. The loneliness that comes from struggling alone with my mum felt lighter. Kumbe, there are other people out there who are having it even rougher than I am. We truly go further when we go together. I feel lighter just sharing this journey here. For some reason, I’ve been uncomfortable talking about it. Maybe it’s the impression that we shouldn’t share some of our family struggles in public. Am I shaming my mum? I wondered.

We need to be more open about some of our private struggles like this. Only then will we have the fuel to go the distance in these ‘long goodbye’ situations without breaking down by the roadside.

If you are a caregiver taking care of a loved one with Alzheimer’s or dementia, or in need of hospice care, feel free to reach out to ADOK. Elizabeth, the founder and her wonderful team will extend the much-needed support to you. You will then be able to pour out to someone else who needs support, including our loved ones who may be psychologically absent but physically present.