As a caregiver, my life was filled with unknowns.

Would the questions that caused my sleepless nights be the problems I’d face in the light of day? How could I know what my life would be like when my caregiving days came to an end—I knew that would soon be the case. There were no miraculous cures waiting.

Should I pray for more time or less pain?

Steve and his mother Sylvia would die and I’d be left—but with what? My life was consumed by their cancers. What would be left? Self-care, sure, but what else? Tonight I decided to clear out a drawer in my nightstand and found a “quotable card” I must have left for myself to discover when I most needed it.

It has a proverb I want to share with you:

“Just when the caterpillar thought the world was over, it became a butterfly.”

Enough said.

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