Saturday, July 2, 2005
I scoured the New York Times online edition, this morning...
...trying to find someone, somewhere, who'd commented on Justice Sandra Day O'Connor's reason for leaving the Supreme Court bench and what ripples this will catalyze within the community of people who not only give care to someone but who think about what they're doing and how it is being done in their society. I'm having a lot of reactions, many of which remain, for the time being, pre-lingual.
From what I know of the woman, for instance, I'm not surprised that she would insist on taking care of her husband. She'll probably do it much like I'm doing it: With sturdy determination and fierce protectiveness. She would probably tell you that she is doing this for her husband out of love (and she would be telling the truth). At some point I expect her to also state that this work of caregiving for her declining husband has become her highest calling. But, reticent and tough as she is, she'll speak not much more about it. She may take on a speaking engagement here and there throughout her caregiving career but she won't be heard from much, certainly not from a personal level, until her husband dies. She will approach her choice as the tough, loving, teasingly reticent Arizona cowgirl she is. I imagine that, as she imagines herself doing what she'll be doing (which all caregivers do in order to improve our performance), she'll see an incarnation of herself as a man in cowboy clothes, just as she'd be in cowboy clothes, taking care of a stricken wife exactly the way she'll take care of her stricken husband.
Her attitude, I imagine, has nothing to do with her sense of femininity. I don't think, for her, femininity necessarily means "caregiver". I think "caregiver" is branded into her through her ranching childhood and she recognizes it as a no-nonsense Chore of Love, and a gift to be accepted. If it falls your way to take intense care of someone you love through decline, you would be foolish not to take the opportunity.
I'm thinking of you, Justice Sandra Day O'Connor. You amaze me again, as you have, regularly, as a U.S. Supreme Court Justice. I'm wishing you and your husband the fullest, best experiences this new adventure can make possible. Carry on.
From what I know of the woman, for instance, I'm not surprised that she would insist on taking care of her husband. She'll probably do it much like I'm doing it: With sturdy determination and fierce protectiveness. She would probably tell you that she is doing this for her husband out of love (and she would be telling the truth). At some point I expect her to also state that this work of caregiving for her declining husband has become her highest calling. But, reticent and tough as she is, she'll speak not much more about it. She may take on a speaking engagement here and there throughout her caregiving career but she won't be heard from much, certainly not from a personal level, until her husband dies. She will approach her choice as the tough, loving, teasingly reticent Arizona cowgirl she is. I imagine that, as she imagines herself doing what she'll be doing (which all caregivers do in order to improve our performance), she'll see an incarnation of herself as a man in cowboy clothes, just as she'd be in cowboy clothes, taking care of a stricken wife exactly the way she'll take care of her stricken husband.
Her attitude, I imagine, has nothing to do with her sense of femininity. I don't think, for her, femininity necessarily means "caregiver". I think "caregiver" is branded into her through her ranching childhood and she recognizes it as a no-nonsense Chore of Love, and a gift to be accepted. If it falls your way to take intense care of someone you love through decline, you would be foolish not to take the opportunity.
I'm thinking of you, Justice Sandra Day O'Connor. You amaze me again, as you have, regularly, as a U.S. Supreme Court Justice. I'm wishing you and your husband the fullest, best experiences this new adventure can make possible. Carry on.
