Caregiving Unfiltered – a Column by Crystal Onyema

My Uncle Brandon could have a few pieces of chicken and a room full of people and still ask, “Y’all want some?” Never mind that there wasn’t enough chicken to feed everybody. If he was eating, chances were he was going to offer you some. Food was something to enjoy…

“Get out of this car. Get in this house and sit down somewhere.” More than a decade later, I can still hear Uncle Brandon’s voice. I also remember the hard smack against the hood of my car that made me look up. There stood my uncle, staring at me as…

I couldn’t tell you the name of the medication today. But more than a decade later, I can still remember the sound of Uncle Brandon flushing it down the toilet. It was a newer medication his doctor had prescribed for his Parkinson’s disease, and Uncle Brandon hated it. He…

Uncle Brandon’s red recliner matched absolutely nothing in the living room. Yet somehow, it was the star player on a winning team, or maybe the lead singer of a popular group. It stood out, and everyone noticed. His friends joked that the ratty-looking chair threw off an otherwise rustic, traditional…

Fall has a way of bringing back certain memories. Cooler weather (thank God, because it has been brutal!) makes me think about football, the changing leaves, and, unfortunately, dead deer. That last one is courtesy of Uncle Brandon. He loved deer hunting. Growing up in the Piney Woods of Texas,…

“Brandon, remove your hat before we go up in the Lord’s house.” My aunt said it under her breath, but pointedly. Uncle Brandon wasn’t hearing any of it. His baseball caps were part of his signature style. He was an East Texas countryman from the Piney Woods, and hats…

“Mr. Dynasty. Why do we have the pleasure of seeing you?” Uncle Brandon’s doctor already knew something wasn’t right. His next appointment wasn’t for another two weeks, but we’d called to ask if he could see him that day. Still, that didn’t stop him from greeting Uncle Brandon the way…

Texas weather has a way of humbling you just when you think you’ve figured it out. One of my cousins was celebrating a birthday at a local mini amusement park, and our family and friends came out to join the festivities. It was one of those rare Texas days that…

“Niece! Bring me my cup, will ya?” Once Uncle Brandon was living with Parkinson’s disease, there was rarely any confusion in our family about which cup he meant. It was THE cup, and wherever Uncle Brandon went around the house, chances were it wasn’t too far behind. It followed…

As you may already know, my uncle Brandon was a proud man. He liked to do what he could, when he could, and how he could, on his own terms. Even something as ordinary as putting on a jacket meant something to him. He had been doing it for decades…