My friends suggested I go to the meeting, but I was resistant. I had been to healing services before. Each time I had expected a miraculous healing. Each time I believed it would happen. Each time I had returned disappointed.
If I’m a failure as a father because of my child’s actions, aren’t I also saying that my mentally-ill child was a failure as a person because of his action?
Pamela Piquette and Cindee Snider Re are walking alongside the chronically ill to help them find hope, purpose, worth, and joy, one precious life at a time.
Sometimes fighting for joy doesn’t look like you might expect it to. Maybe it starts with paying attention. Opening eyes to the possibility of joy.
For years I never considered that the label “Caregiver” belonged to me. It seemed too formal, too restrictive, too important for what I did to help my chronically ill mum. Hugs and housework and understanding. Surely those didn’t deserve such a label?
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