Today I will begin a new format. My stated goal for this blog is to “inform and encourage family caregivers.” I have been writing for caregivers for almost seven years – first in the Burlington Times News, and since November on this site.

Ever since my active caregiving experience with my dad ended sixteen years ago, I have planned to write a book to honor his memory. In fact, I started writing soon after his death – but as so often happens – life and its myriad callings got in the way. (For instance, I attended nursing school, graduated, worked seven years in long-term care, then started the writing gig for the newspaper that opened the door for me to become a speaker about caregiving to many diverse groups. Along with the twenty-five grandchildren that kept popping up along the way, I got sidetracked.)

And, oh, yes, my first book (that I had started years earlier) was published between my nursing and newspaper columnist careers. Or Be Reconciled is a novel about the sanctity of marriage.

All caregivers need some down time – short periods throughout the day to rest, relax and rejuvenate. My hope is that weekly segments of this book will help you do just that. If you have a question about a caregiving question, check out the archives where previous blogs are listed by categories.

Below is the prologue of my new book. Beginning next Monday and continuing in the weeks ahead, I will be sharing short segments. Enjoy!

Taking Care of Daddy

– a love story –

Prologue – Another Girl

“Mr. Wright, congratulations! You have another girl.” 

Some men, especially a farmer who already had four daughters, might be disheartened to hear those words. Especially since he had already lost his firstborn son who was stillborn, and his wife had almost died following the miscarriage of a second son during her previous pregnancy. He must have known that at their ages (40 and 37 respectively), there probably was not going to be a boy to carry on the family name.

“Boyd, are you disappointed you didn’t get your boy?” The question was put to Daddy by his youngest brother, my Uncle J.C. Just a few months earlier, his wife, my Aunt Sara, had given birth to a son, Jimmy. He became and remained the only boy in a whole generation of Wright cousins.

 “How could I be disappointed with such a beautiful baby girl?” was Daddy’s reply. 

Mother and Daddy had already chosen the name Zachary David for me, the hoped-for boy.  Instead, I was named Ruth Zachary Wright. Most people called me “Ruthie.”

It wasn’t until I was about ten years old that Uncle J.C. shared the above account of Daddy’s affirmation that he was quite satisfied with a baby girl. And that’s just what I always was, my Daddy’s baby girl. I acknowledge that status bestowed many benefits. After all, I had four older sisters to remind me of all the things I got to do that they did not. I gratefully enjoyed the blessings; and when the time came, I would gratefully accept the responsibilities.