The Caregivers in our life.

Author: Zoey Garcia

  • Interview One~

    Ps- There is some background noise due to my siblings and my pets. It’s hard to keep a very busy household quite.

    For my first interview I decided there is no better person to interview then my mom, since she was mine and my siblings primary care giver and I personally look up to her. During this interview I was honestly kind of nervous and afraid of maybe asking too much of a personal question but later in the interview I was able to let go of some of those negative emotions and be able to ask her some of these questions from heart. At the end we were able to have this type of heart to heart. Something I would like to highlight from the interview is when I asked my mom the question of ” other then being a mother is there any other memories of being a care giver to either siblings, friends, or even any other family members” and she started to talk about her grandmother (my great grandma) and how she had to start taking care of her once she started to develop Alzheimer’s. I made this type of connection to where I realized that the role of ” care taker” has been switched. I started to remember all of the little story’s my mom used to tell me about her and my great grandma, my great grandma would always allow my mom to sneak out when her mom didn’t allow her to or when my mom would be around my great grandma so much. At the end of the response my mother said she looked up to her and that just made my heart melt because even though my mother said no to the question of ” did your primary care giver have any major impact on your life” I knew that even though my great grandma wasn’t her primary care giver, she still had a big impact on my mothers life.

  • Row your boat

    At night the body of clouds advancing higher up the sky smothers the whole quiet gulf below with an impenetrable darkness, in which the sound of the falling showers can be heard beginning and ceasing abruptly—now here, now there. Indeed, these cloudy nights are proverbial with the seamen along the whole west coast of a great continent. Sky, land, and sea disappear together out of the world when the Placido—as the saying is—goes to sleep under its black poncho.

    The few stars left below the seaward frown of the vault shine feebly as into the mouth of a black cavern. In its vastness your ship floats unseen under your feet, her sails flutter invisible above your head. The eye of God Himself—they add with grim profanity—could not find out what work a man’s hand is doing in there; and you would be free to call the devil to your aid with impunity if even his malice were not defeated by such a blind darkness.

  • Gently down the stream

    The dawn breaks high behind the towering and serrated wall of the Cordillera, a clear-cut vision of dark peaks rearing their steep slopes on a lofty pedestal of forest rising from the very edge of the shore. Amongst them the white head of Higuerota rises majestically upon the blue. Bare clusters of enormous rocks sprinkle with tiny black dots the smooth dome of snow.

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