The Definition of Respite

The following piece is excerpted from Love, Honor, & Value - a family caregiver speaks out about the choices and challenges of caregiving by Suzanne Mintz, President/Co-founder of the National Family Caregivers Association.

I've come to think of respite as coming in three sizes, much the way things did in the house of the three bears that Goldilocks visited. The week away is obviously comparable to a "papa bear" respite. A weekend visiting friends would fit nicely into "mama bear's" bowl, and all the little things that take an hour or less can be easily categorized as "baby bear" respites.

If the truth be told, I've never taken a "papa bear" respite. The longest I've been away is four days and I had the built-in justification that it was for a business trip. But I have taken weekend respites, and each time I have reaped more benefits than I could have imagined. One of the things I find is that when I go away by myself it helps me connect with myself. During one respite weekend at the beach, I wrote a poem called Respite, and I've been told that it expresses the benefits that a weekend away can bring.

I rented a house at the beach this weekend.
I went by myself and I took long walks
I sat by an inlet of the bay and watched the reeds and intermittent trees while they danced lightly in the breeze.
I felt the sun's warmth on my face, and I willed it to seep deep into my soul.
I went to the beach by myself this weekend.
I was alone, but I was not lonely.
I was with my self, and we were at peace - with each other.

It's a wonderful feeling being with your self. For me it means living in the moment, breathing slowly and deeply, feeling a delightful sense of calm and warmth.

I can achieve some of this same feeling by indulging in my favorite "baby bear" respite, a bath by candlelight. Bubbles are a delightful addition, but they are optional, but there is something about the glow of the candlelight that is essential to the experience because it somehow takes the edge off the responsibilities that lie just beyond the bathroom door. Warm water and soft lighting are sometimes enough for me, but at other times the addition of some calming music really helps take me away. It blocks out whatever household noises are invading my privacy and it involves yet another one of my senses in the experience. Touch, sight, sound, and sometimes taste and smell are added to my respite bath. A warm cup of tea gives me a glow on the inside just the way the warm bath water gives me a glow on the outside, and the scent of the tea, especially if it is a fruity blend is yet another way to further remove myself from the day-to-day. And every now and then I add the piece de la resistance, a piece of good quality chocolate. It's true it adds a sort of decadent quality to the whole experience, but that's just the point. I've come to the conclusion that if you are going to have a respite that only lasts fifteen or twenty minutes, it really should be decadent to have the proper effect.

I remember a time when I had been feeling fairly low and I mentioned it to a friend on the phone. A few days later a package arrived in the mail. When I opened it a huge smile spread across my face. Inside was a basket filled with everything I could possibly need for a delightful bathtub respite, bath oils, moisturizer, a big sponge and lovely smelling soaps. I don't think I've ever gotten a more thoughtful gift. I know you may be thinking I am mad, but the point is it works for me.

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