I don’t know about you but I’ve been coasting over these past few months.

I’ve gained weight, I’m easily tempted by the trashy romance novels on my phone and can ignore real life for a while. Which means I sit all day.

Sure, I get up early and walk for an hour in the confines of my basement. 5000 steps before 8am is a good thing, except when it’s the only thing you do all day. I keep telling myself I’ll do more tomorrow and then I turn the page on my phone and burrow myself in fantasy again.

Part of it is caregiver burnout. Even though Jim is still somewhat autonomous his constant questions and inability to remember the answer wears on me. Somedays I wonder if it will be easier when he’s fully dependent and his care requires doing, where I can measure the completion of a task (getting him dressed, helping him eat) and feel some sort of accomplishment at the end of the day.

Then I immediately feel guilty because I know that in a few months I’ll treasure the memory of these days.

It feels like I’m on an ever ending merry-go-round. Endless questions, endless retelling of stories that morph slightly each time he tells them, endless worry about whether I’m doing too much and smothering him or doing too little, leaving him bereft in some way. Am I doing neither? Am I doing both at the same time?

I guess my message for today, even if I’m the one who needs to hear it, “Just being there is enough.” Take care of the basics and you’ll get back to the extras when you are able.