Wreath season ends; a season of being an ALS caregiver stretches on

Every year, I make and sell Christmas wreaths. Much of my day is filled with caring for my husband, Todd, who has ALS, along with household tasks such as laundry, meals, dishes, and snow removal.

But I often have a couple of hours each day — after I set Todd up on his computer — when I can run errands or go for a walk or ski. Starting mid-November, I use that time for wreath-making, and wreath season carries me through mid-December.

As the orders come in, I work to fill them. It’s a race to stay on top of everything, and it can feel overwhelming — especially this year, after I came down with a cold. Still, I pushed through and finished all of this year’s orders a few days ago. I finally made my own wreath yesterday.

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I am busy enough without this extra side hustle, but I can squeeze in wreath-making when I have the time, so it’s a good way to earn a little income. It gives me a creative outlet, I get a sense of accomplishment for making something tangible, and it’s limited in duration — just a month of Fraser fir needles on my dining room floor and bows scattered around my living room.

Kristin Neva shows off one of the many Christmas wreaths she makes during the holidays. (Courtesy of Kristin Neva)

I couldn’t keep up that pace long term, but I can do it for a month. It is just a season of my year.

Looking back at other seasons of life, there were many difficult times when I was able to plow through because I believed the discomfort was of limited duration.

I remember having my first baby. I was full of love, joy, and excitement, but I was exhausted until she finally slept through the night. I look back fondly on the season of life with small children when toys covered the floor and cleaning the house felt like shoveling while it was still snowing.

Knowing something is just for a season changes how much I am able to bear. I think now about how that applies to ALS.

For some people, the disease progresses so quickly that life with ALS is only a short season with long, hard days. There is no time for home modifications. Life becomes a brief, intense period of crisis management.

But for those of us on a slower track with ALS, the climate shifts with no foreseeable relief. We have to adapt and find ways to make life sustainable. We need to find resources and help to care for the one with ALS, and primary caregivers need to find ways to manage chronic stress.

When wreath season ends, I vacuum the fir needles from the kitchen floor, roll the wreath table back into the garage, and carry boxes of bows and pine cones up to the attic. The house returns to its usual order.

One small season has closed, as another stretches on, and caregiving continues.

Note: ALS News Today is strictly a news and information website about the disease. It does not provide medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. This content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician or other qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition. Never disregard professional medical advice or delay in seeking it because of something you have read on this website. The opinions expressed in this column are not those of ALS News Today or its parent company, Bionews, and are intended to spark discussion about issues pertaining to ALS.