Dear indispensable human, who is also a human,
Your promotion to a person again
I understand that you currently hold several positions, possibly including Keeper of the Appointments, Locator of the Thing, Interpreter of the Instructions, and Person Who Knows Whether We Have Any Left. Your portfolio is impressive. I would nevertheless like to speak to you in your original capacity: the person I care about, with a day and a mind of your own.
When someone needs a great deal of care, questions understandably gather around them. You become the person supplying the answers. This invitation is me trying to remember a different question: how is all of this for you? Not how well have you managed it, or whether everything is under control. What has it felt like to be the one doing the caring today?
The sainthood application may be withdrawn
You are allowed to be loving and tired. You can be relieved, frustrated, grateful, or thoroughly fed up with a small thing nobody else would notice. I am not reviewing your application for sainthood. Frankly, the hours appear unreasonable and the robes would only add to the laundry. I would rather hear the version with ordinary human feelings still attached.
You do not have to finish a difficult sentence by assuring me that it is all worth it. I know affection and difficulty can live in the same day. Tell me what you want to share without arranging the feelings into a more admirable order. You deserve a conversation in which being capable is not the only available way to be.
You can put down the job title for a minute. I would like to hear from you.
A favour should not need a slide deck
If a practical hand would help, you can name something specific: an errand, a meal, an arrangement to discuss. I will be honest about what I can do. There is no need for an executive summary, three possible dates, and a reassuring statement that you would manage perfectly well without me. You can ask for an actual useful thing.
And if working out what to ask for is itself too much work, you can say that. You do not need to invent a task to justify my attention. Listening is available without a completed project brief. Tell me whether you want company, practical thinking, or simply someone to hear that the day has been long and the kettle has been boiled four times.
Other news from your own life
I would welcome a thought about a book, an unnecessarily firm opinion about a television programme, or a small pleasure that belonged to you. The person doing the caring still has tastes, curiosities, and occasionally a very good joke. These have not been cancelled because the schedule is full. You can tell me something entirely unrelated to anybody else's needs.
When you do talk about caring, choose the details that feel right to share. I do not need someone else's medical information or private story in order to hear about your experience. You can leave things unnamed. A short account of your afternoon does not require supporting documents, and I have no intention of asking you to attach receipts for having had a difficult time.
An invitation with absolutely no rota
Open the invitation and choose how to reply: a video if seeing each other feels good, a camera-off voice note if it does not, or a few written words. Sixty seconds is a starting point, not a minimum requirement or a maximum allowance. Say a little or take longer. You can review what you made and decide whether to send it.
Your reply comes to me, the host, rather than automatically being sent around friends or family. I may see it later, so keep our usual way of getting in touch for anything time-sensitive. There is no daily rota to maintain. Skip days, take a break, or decide this is not useful. I do not want caring for our connection to become another thing only you remember to do.
OUR LITTLE PROMISE
All the jokes about forms are covering a rather plain feeling: I care about the person doing all this caring.
If a little of your day would like somewhere to land, I would be glad to receive it. No evidence of exceptional coping required.
With affection, from someone volunteering to notice you too