Love and the live-in carer

Love and the live-in carer. Possible?

Where would we find the time, energy, inclination, for a relationship of any sort? Where would we even find a possible candidate? Yes, some carers are married, some have left their husbands back in South Africa, Spain, New Zealand, oh and there's a wife back in Cape Town bringing up the young son while her hubby cares for six months at a time here in the UK.

But for the rest of us, many of whom are doing this work to escape (or recover from) a life of relative difficulty back home, is there room for love? Are any of us even looking? Or are we just trying to get through each assignment unscathed, so that we can enjoy the short holiday at the end of the shift, rather than hiding in a hole trying to recover from another death/stroke/cancer victim's pain?

If a carer who yearns to travel craves spontaneity, adventure, new places, and is prepared to give up everything she knows to make these travels possible, surely, surely, she can see love as an adventure too? Face it head on? Grab a moment?

Allow me to tell you a story about love in the life of this live-in carer. Yes, we will call it love. Because suddenly life feels too short to be holding back. To be hiding behind barriers. To be playing it safe.

It is possible. And the difference is, it doesn't need to last forever; it can be a moment in time. Just long enough to remind me that there are good, decent men out there. And allow me to embrace the feeling of safety, of being cared for, of being valued and admired. Someone who can balance out the rollercoaster ride of palliative care, death, suffering, bereavement, picking up the pieces of a lost spouse left behind.

As for where, well how about a chance encounter at a coffee shop on a rainy day? It could happen anywhere. It's what we do with these connections that can change our lives. This time, it was a case of realising that as this lifestyle does not often allow for meeting new people, when there is an offer of a connection, we should take it.

Let's say that we will be separated by 5,500 miles for a full year after what adds up to, over a length of time, just ten nights together. Ten incredible nights, filled with music, fireworks, thunderstorms, talking as if we've known each other all our lives. A connection that neither of us has felt before. A "secret link that people spend a lifetime looking for" as he puts it. Isn't that worth the lowering of the barriers, the risk of hurt, the pain of a goodbye?

Or would it have been better for us both to walk away that first day?

I am hoping that it was worth it. We say goodbye tomorrow. For the last time. Although we plan to stay in touch. And we have a date set for twelve months time.

I am dreading the goodbye, but am so grateful for the time we've had. He has changed my life. Reminded me of who I was before I picked up this anonymous label of "carer". Makes me want to rekindle the person who has been lost and buried during this past year. He has inspired in me the simple (forgotten) art of shopping for pretty clothes and shoes, and I now have the urge to wear them rather than the sensible shapeless practical outfits that get packed and unpacked from the suitcase week after week, month after month. I want to be the real me again. He's helped me to find her.

Says I've made him a better man. That he admires me, I'm his hero. Wouldn't any of us find that flattering?

We will never forget each other. And maybe "love" is too strong a word. Whatever label we put on it, it's been good.

Love or not, whether I miss him hopelessly or not, there is always another holiday to look forward to. More adventures to be had. And one thing I've learnt during this journey? I am no longer frightened of falling in love. However, I may be looking for an alternative line of work.

Your experiences:
What stories do you have on finding love and friends as a live in carer?

Do you find yourself letting yourself go? Not putting as much effort into your appearance as you did in your old life? Do you still wear makeup, even if the only person you will see all day is a 90 year old nearly blind lady? Are you eating and exercising properly?

How do you keep a hold of the person you once were?

I'd love to hear your experiences and share them here.

 I think this is leading to a whole new story....