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CONNIE'S STORY

Connie Siskowski, PhD, RN, MPA

Born on the cusp of the boomers, it was unique to have a dad who would only occasionally visit and to live with grandparents along with my mother and brother. My mom worked and then played cards on Saturdays. I grew up helping with various chores. My grandfather, "Pop" and I shared a special bond. He protected me from the wrath of my grandmother and from the torments of my brother. Each week he gave me my 25 cent allowance and taught me how to garden, mow the lawn, repair a lamp, etc., etc.

When I was about 11 and he was the age of 82 years, Pop finally stopped working part-time. We saw his failing health continue to decline. His feet would swell and I learned how to check on his edema, help him put on his white socks and stretch his shoes to fit. I made and brought him food and helped him eat. I emptied his urinal when trips to the bathroom became more difficult. He was tall and big but I found a way to help him get out of his chair. We would spend time listening to the radio, reading or playing cards. I cut his hair, shaved his beard, and trimmed his moustache. I treasured my time with Pop and felt great joy in helping and caring for him.

The doctor would come to the house and change his medicine. One day he started on a new medicine for his heart that he needed to take around the clock. By now I was 13 and I was the person who was going to wake up at 2 AM to give it to him. That night I slept in the living room so I would be closer to his bedroom in case Pop needed something. Why I was the person doing this, I have no clue…maybe I just wanted to…after all, he was my Pop! The alarm didn’t go off but I woke up at about 2:02 anyhow, and got some water and his pill…I reached his bed only to touch his cool skin…I was too late…he would never hold me in his arms again.

Who knew then about young caregiving? The experience probably led me to learn CPR and First Aid and to become a junior volunteer on our town’s emergency squad in Nutley, NJ…and ultimately to become a nurse. Except when Pop died, I didn’t miss school or neglect my homework…I may have spent less time with friends but that didn’t matter…my Pop was my priority. Today I am thankful to have experienced the shared blessing of caring and being cared for during my formative years. Pop’s love and strength helps me persevere today.

Connie Siskowski, PhD, RN, MPA

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