In my family of origin, I saw illness from an early age. My sister is developmentally challenged and she also has severe epilepsy. My father was diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease when I was in my early 20s. This was a prolonged illness that took its toll over the last 20 years of his life. My whole life I witnessed my mother as the caregiver for my sister, and then later for my father. After my father passed, my husband and I found an excellent group home for my sister. We did this in hopes to give my mother a much-needed break from the role of caregiver, and to allow my sister to live as independently as she possibly could. Finally, I would have my mother back as her relaxed and fun-loving self. Finally, she would be free to have more enjoyment and freedom in her life!
Something unexpected occurred, however.
Like the Bee-Gees famously said: You should be dancing! That advice will be especially true on April 2, when JourneyCare hosts our annual Decades Dance that will celebrate the grooviest era of them all, the 1970s.
Of course, you should put on your boogie shoes so you can enjoy a night of music by Libido Funk Circus, cocktails, dinner, auctions and even prizes for the grooviest outfits.
But the most important reason you should head to this boogie wonderland (which will be The Stonegate in Hoffman Estates) is to support JourneyCare’s All About Kids pediatric care program.
I have been so fortunate to be a social worker and now a field team manager for JourneyCare. The patients and families I meet truly affirm why I was drawn to this work. Some of the most challenging circumstances I have experienced working with family members became some of the most exciting, compelling and educational cases I have ever had the privilege of working on and I consider them “gifts.”
In my five years with JourneyCare, there have been so many moments that stand out and truly touched my heart...moments made possible by care teams working together creatively and pooling resources, all to make a difference, big or small, for patients and families.
Children can, and do, grieve and children process their grief through play. Two concepts that my training has taught me and two concepts that I have witnessed firsthand countless times as a child life specialist. Yet, somehow, these two concepts became more real to me than they ever were as I sat with a five-year-old sibling of a three-year-old hospice patient in her backyard, providing support as she learned that a frog she caught and had been caring for had died.
She talked about playing with him the day before, how he seemed to really enjoy the dirt, and how sad she was that he had died. She cried as she talked about how much she would miss him; kissed him as she talked about saying goodbye. We picked flowers, prepared his resting place, and said what we would miss about him. Throughout the interaction, she discussed the parallels between her brother’s anticipated death and the death of her frog. She cried for both as she attempted to reconcile what was to come.