Do you remember those days when time seemed boundless, when you could dictate your schedule and pursue your passions without hesitation? The luxury of leisurely mornings, the thrill of diving into hobbies and projects—it all feels like a distant memory for most of us.
Once filled with busy and fun activities and personal pursuits, life now moves at a fraction of its former speed. Some days were slow and relaxed, but most days you could ramp up with coffee and breakfast or a walk or whatever and then start your daily activities or go to work etc. If you needed to be busy you just stepped on the gas and did more. The gears that were once lubricated with freedom and choice, now grind against the weight of responsibility and care. It’s like navigating through thick molasses, each movement burdened by the weight of duty. People often advise to “slow down and enjoy life” and just have to laugh…
I used to have so many hobbies and projects, from building things around the house like fence and deck projects or putting up shelves or building things in my workshop. I was running, cycling, going downtown for photography projects and more. I was active and engaged! That’s all gone. Over and done with.
It’s The Great Slowing Down of Life.
A few highlights:
- I was really taken by surprise at how hard it can be to get an adult dressed when they’re confused. For us, every time I turn my back she’s doing something counter to the goal of getting her clothes or pyjamas on.
- Struggling to put on underpants and not understanding that her second leg has to go in too. No amount of cajoling or explaining helps. I can’t physically force this. Eventually it works, for now anyway.
- Sitting on the toilet as I try to wait to see if she’s going to have a wiping issue and my presence, as discrete as I try to make it, causes her to sit for a even longer period of time with no feedback as to whether I need to help.
- Meals slow down… now not knowing to lean over a bowl resulting in food dribbles, meaning extra laundry.
- Showering is surprisingly slow. I can’t just push her around like you would a child or a dog and verbal explanations or requests often don’t register.
- Walking is getting worse by the day. Beside the slow shuffling gait (two years ago she was hard to keep up with) she is starting to freeze at crossings, or stop in the middle of the street. She also lags behind by a few paces. It’s like dragging an anchor. But I persist as it’s the only exercise she gets, but it also mans I can’t get the exercise I should be doing. A stark reminder of the physical and emotional toll of caregiving.
It feels like that Star Trek episode where the aliens are moving at crazy speed while the crew of the Enterprise are moving at normal speed, except the speedy people is everyone and the normal world around us and our memory of our former normal lives and the echoes of a life we have lost. (reference to the Star Trek episode Wink of an Eye)
In the midst of The Great Slowing Down of Life I’m trying hard to hold on to the satisfaction I was getting from my role, but it can be a challenge when you’re aware of what’s no longer possible.