Caring Givers

Been thinking a lot lately about those who so willingly take care of others.  At some point in our lives, we are either the giver or the taker.  After being the "taker" for so long the past year and a half, I'm falling behind on being a "giver".  But, I still recognize those around me who are pros at it.
My siblings are good at being "givers".  My sisters fly in from their homes far away to take care of family, even doing the messy stuff that the rest of us would rather not deal with.  My brother is the constant presence in Mom's life and home, giving what he can to keep balance between healing and well-being. 
My hubby is a "giver", even though it means spending far too much time at work, in the heat, doing the mundane and not being appreciated.  My grands are "givers", though they're too young to realize that just the sound of their tiny voices makes my heart sing.
My neighbors and friends are "givers", whether it's  a welcome meal, a happy visit, or flowers that have added charm and beauty to my front yard this summer.
My children are "givers", though they worry far too much about me.  Most of the time they are more adult than I am, and it humbles me.  Aaron is and always has been my rock, a steadying force in his quiet way, and Chelsea would do anything to make things better and more beautiful and happier.  Janessa is my link to youth, as she shares her teenage life with enthusiasm and hope.  But most of all, I will be forever grateful to Lindsey for her sacrifice of time when she was my chief nurse.  There was no one I counted on more, no one who put the "care" into "giving", day after day, hour after hour, in spite of her own frustrations and worries.  All these people surrounded me with love and gave me the will to go on.  I pray I can live long enough to "pay it forward".

I went to chorus Tuesday night and reconnected with another chorus member who is dealing with her aging husband and the challenges he faces every day.  She said she was glad to be at rehearsal--alone--having made arrangements for her husband to be cared for while she was gone for a couple of hours.  I could see the weariness in her face, hear it in her voice.  And yet, there was that underlying love that she could not hide, the love that compels us to do hard things, to be involved with something we never dreamed we'd have to face, and to move forward when everything around us tries to push us back.  Truly, caring givers are ministering angels on this earth.  May they be blessed in this life...and the next.

(Picture:  Mom and Dad, married August 15, 1958, high school sweethearts--love them so much!)