How to Carry the Burden of Someone You Love

The burden of someone you love. It sounds harsh, doesn’t it?

We don’t want to think of the ones we love as burdens. Rather, they’re gifts. We’re happy to sacrifice for them. To do whatever is necessary to improve their lives, or ease their suffering.

Love should be its own reward.

But we are complicated beings, and we have many loves. Love for family and friends. Love for pets and work and creative passions. These loves may not be equal, but they require constant improvisatory juggling.

Love invites inconvenience. It demands sacrifice.

Thus, we miss time at work (and the income it provides) to stay home and nurse our children when they are sick. We cancel a much-needed vacation because a parent is moving into a care facility, and needs help. We put off buying a fancy new car because our brother lost his job and needs help with the rent.

We do these things for love.

But there is always a cost. We know we are doing the right thing, but after a while, we feel the weight of sacrifice. The gravity of burden.

We long for the freedom to pursue other loves. But we can’t, and a brooding resentment does battle with our guilt. So we help the ones we love and hate ourselves for feeling burdened.

How do we nurture the humility to carry these burdens and sacrifices without counting the costs?

So that our children can have a better tomorrow

My mother battled Parkinson’s disease for many years.

At first, it was manageable. She maintained her own house, and often helped me by babysitting my son Conner when he was little. I relied on Mom’s help because my career made frequent and inconvenient demands on my time.

There were many last-minute phone calls to Mom.

“Mom, how’s it going?” I never led with the request.

“Just fine, Johnny. What’s up?” Mom surely knew what was coming.

“Well, there’s this police academy graduation Friday night, and the invited speaker fell ill. So they asked if I could do it. Sorry, it’s kind of last minute.”

“That’s fine, Johnny. What time would you like to drop Conner off? We’ll get pizza that night.”

Mom never said no, even if she had other plans.

Let us sacrifice our today so that our children can have a better tomorrow. — A. P. J. Abdul Kalam

Healthy love is reciprocal.

There are times when loved ones come to our rescue, and times when we save them. Mom rescued me often when my work as a police chief was most demanding. Whether picking up Conner after school or babysitting when evening events stole my time, Mom was always there for us, without complaint.

But things would change.

Hope is like the sun

Mom’s Parkinson’s disease advanced, and soon she was unable to drive.

She decided to move into a local assisted living community, where meals and laundry service were provided.

“It’s better this way, Johnny. I don’t want to be a burden,” she’d say.

Mom’s grocery shopping fell to me, and every weekend I phoned her to ask what she needed. Every Sunday was spent shopping, delivering, putting away groceries, and then visiting with Mom to talk and catch up.

None of us want to become burdensome, but the truth is, we don’t always get to decide. Try as Mom did, her body began to fail, and doctor appointments multiplied.

I frequently took time off work to usher Mom to medical and dental appointments. She was wheelchair-bound, and transporting her was a production. I had to lift her in and out of my vehicle and fold and store her wheelchair in the trunk.

Mom, in later years, nestled in her wheelchair visiting family.

And oh, the endless waiting rooms.

For Mom, these medical trips were welcome opportunities to chat and escape the mundanity of assisted living life. But her hearing was poor and she spoke loudly, her voice echoing in the waiting rooms. It was embarrassing at times.

Sometimes I felt impatient and put-upon, thinking about my professional obligations as Mom prattled about news, politics, and gossip where she lived.

But then, we also had splendid conversations.

We’d reminisce and recall family exploits. I started to see these appointments as a time to learn more about Mom and simply enjoy her company.

Hope is like the sun, which, as we journey toward it, casts the shadow of our burden behind us. — Samuel Smiles

After my retirement, Mom’s medical appointments increased, and we spent a great deal of time together. Thankfully, working from home as a writer, my schedule was flexible.

I had more time for Mom.

I brought regular groceries, including her favorite cupcakes. I even hired a woman to come and read to her a few times a week, since Mom could no longer hold a book.

Mom always loved her desserts.

My father had the foresight many years ago to purchase long-term care for my mother, so we were able to afford the many services that her Parkinson’s disease required.

There were some occasions when I didn’t feel up to grocery shopping or the headaches of hiring special medical cabs to transport my mother (in her reclining wheelchair) to doctor appointments.

But I always reminded myself that any burdens my mother caused were eclipsed by the radiance of her company, and the gift of time shared.

Forever does not make loss forgettable, only bearable

We don’t realize it at the time, but the burdens we carry today for someone we love are precisely what will save us when they are gone.

Every doctor visit, dentist appointment, and grocery trip I made for my mother were acts of love and investments in my future well-being.

A good day together.

Had I been selfish and not helped my mother, I would have missed out on all that special time together. All the laughs we had in waiting rooms. All the meaningful chats we enjoyed while I put away her groceries. All the reminiscence and memories made.

There are memories that time does not erase…Forever does not make loss forgettable, only bearable. ― Cassandra Clare, City of Heavenly Fire

This is how you carry the burden of someone you love. By reminding yourself that burdens are opportunities to love. To show gratitude. To be able to face yourself someday, when the person who needed you is gone.

Today’s sacrifices create tomorrow’s well-being.

Before you go

I’m John P. Weiss. I write elegant stories and essays about life. If you enjoyed this essay, check out my free Saturday Letters here.

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This post was previously published on Medium.com.

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Photo credit: John P. Weiss