Caregiver Bingo: Finding the Right Home Aide

The good, the bad, the no-shows & the funny looking

Image courtesy of vitor cheregati

The hardest part of sharing my life and home with Mom has been the trois in our ménage. For forty years, it was just me. And the cats. I was a happy, childless cat lady. Now, there is always at least one more person whose life I have to be involved in. I’m talking about the aides. Finding the right one is a game of chance, one part luck, one part perseverance.

The one who called Mom, Mamala.
The one Mom called the Funny Faced One.
The parrot.
The schnorrer.
The speedbumps.
The lifesaver.
The doll collector.
The pimp.
The heavy metal sweetheart.

Make no mistake, I couldn’t, wouldn’t and won’t do any of this without them. They’ve saved my sanity, kept her safe, entertained, fed and clean. They’ve kept her alive and me out of prison.

Mom’s aides are the thing that keeps my home from being wrapped in yellow crime scene tape, the site of a murder/suicide.