Lessons That Started With Her Grandmother

Mercy’s first lessons in caregiving came long before she knew it was work she would one day choose for herself. Growing up in Africa, she watched as her grandmother began behaving in ways that were confusing to her as a child.

“As a young girl, I didn’t understand what was wrong with Grannie,” Mercy recalled. “She started digging in the mud and doing unusual things. My mother explained that as people get older, they can become confused, and it’s important to be patient and kind to them.”

Mercy has carried that lesson with her into her work at Senior1Care, where she is now in her second year as a caregiver. Patience and kindness remain at the heart of her approach, along with something experience has reinforced along the way: good caregiving requires paying attention. What one person needs can be entirely different from what another needs, and sometimes the smallest gestures are the ones that matter most.

Small Things, Big Impact

Mercy has no shortage of stories about moments with clients that have stayed with her, including some that seemed fairly ordinary at first. She remembers helping one client put on her shoes when the woman suddenly began to cry. “Nobody has ever done this for me,” the client told her. “You are so nice. No one has helped me get dressed the way you help me.”

For Mercy, helping with a pair of shoes wasn’t remarkable. But her client’s reaction was a reminder that something routine to a caregiver can mean much more to the person receiving that care. “It’s about seeing what that person needs every moment you’re there,” Mercy said. “Asking yourself, how can I be helpful, and what can I do to support this person today?”

That attentiveness is something Mercy tries to bring into each client’s home. She knows clients may be sick or simply having a difficult day, and what they need from her can change from one visit to the next.

Another client showed Mercy just how meaningful those everyday interactions can become. On about her fifth visit with the woman, Mercy arrived and stood in the doorway, reminding the client of her name. The woman responded by wrapping Mercy in a tight hug. She eventually let go, looked at Mercy and told her, “You are so sweet.” By the end of the shift, the woman had another question: “No, don’t go. When are you coming back?”

Mercy doesn’t expect every visit or every client to be the same. Instead, she pays attention to the person in front of her and what they need from her that day. Sometimes that means providing a little extra help with an everyday task. Other times, it may simply mean offering patience, kindness and a reassuring presence.

Over time, those individual moments can grow into something bigger: trust. Mercy takes pride in seeing clients smile when she arrives and knowing they recognize her as someone who will treat them well and speak kindly to them. “They know I’m someone they can trust,” she said.

More than a Job

Relationships are part of what has made caregiving much more than a job for Mercy. She has found that the more attention she gives to understanding each client and what they need from her, the deeper those connections can become. She also appreciates the personal attention she receives from Senior1Care. Notes and check-ins from office staff, along with regular communication while she is working in clients’ homes, help her feel supported and encouraged in her work.

When asked what she would tell someone thinking about becoming a caregiver, Mercy’s advice comes back to the same qualities her mother taught her about as a young girl: kindness and compassion. She believes caregivers need to understand how much their help can mean to the people who depend on them, and that the desire to help should be at the heart of choosing the work. “Don’t go just because it’s a job,” Mercy said. “Go because you want to help them.”

Years after first learning the importance of patience and kindness while watching her grandmother age, Mercy is now putting those lessons into practice for other families, one relationship at a time.