A Caregiving Friendship

I first met my friend Stephanie 15 years ago when I spoke at a ladies’ retreat. After I shared my story about living with never-ending pain, she introduced herself as a Guideposts reader and handed me a jar of her shimmering homemade preserves that she knew was my favorite. “I pray for you every single day, Roberta,” she told me.

A lot of folks say they pray, but I learned that when Stephanie prays, she prays. Heaven-came-down-and-glory-filled-your-soul prayers. Praying for others is what she lives for. Stephanie’s prayers helped me make it through some terribly tough times in my work as a nurse and as the primary caregiver for my parents.

Because of pain and repeated major surgeries, I sometimes disappeared from non-mandatory areas of life. This unfortunately included Stephanie. But even though Stephanie herself is a caregiver to her mother, and has a family and a demanding job, she never once gave up on me. In her non-intrusive way, she left sweet messages on my answering machine, sent encouraging emails and snail-mailed the loveliest-ever cards that never hinted at throwing in the towel of devotion.

After over 50 years of agony, I was divinely delivered from pain. One afternoon as I rejoiced at the wonder of it all, I happened upon a stash of old cards. Twenty-two of them were from the amazingly-consistent Stephanie. A friend and fellow caregiver who loved me even when I was unable to return the gift.