A Decade of Caregiving: Memories, Milestones, and Meaning

Facebook has a way of sneaking up on me. Sometimes those “memories” are lighthearted — a funny post, a vacation snapshot, a sweet reminder of a moment with friends. Other times, they open a floodgate.

This week, sitting in Indianapolis with my friend Starr, I was transported back to one of the most difficult chapters of my caregiving journey. The memory: evacuating my parents’ home ahead of Hurricane Irma. My mom had just suffered a massive stroke that robbed her of her ability to communicate. She’d been transferred hours away to a new hospital. Dad and I were forced to leave the danger zone without knowing when we’d see her again.

Eighteen days later, she was gone.

I can still feel the weight of that season — fear, uncertainty, heartbreak — all woven together with a strange calm that came from focusing only on the “next right step.” I remember the calls from doctors and nurses who promised they’d take good care of her until we could return. I remember the love and prayers pouring in from friends. I remember whispering gratitude, even as life turned upside down in an instant.

And now, ten years later, I sit in a quiet apartment with Starr, another caregiver whose path has overlapped with mine in so many ways. She has walked her parents all the way home. Today, she serves others as a hospice nurse and helps others along their way. I am still walking alongside my dad.

We’re here in Indy, taking a pause from the weight of responsibility, laughing together, swapping stories, and preparing to cheer at the Indiana Fever’s final home game of the season. There is such beauty in this friendship forged in fire, perspective shaped by loss, and the resilience to keep showing up even when the journey feels endless.

Caregiving is like that. It asks more of us than we think we have. It stretches us, humbles us, and breaks us open. And yet, within it, there are gifts: the slowing down, the deepening of love, the discovery of where our limits lie, and the rediscovery of what really matters. 

I once wrote in that moment of chaos, “There will be a book.” Today, I am writing that book. It's a mini-book, actually. It's an honest, open take on caregiving that focuses on the things I know are most important for caregivers and that some people never talk about. 

The working title is Caregiving Essentials: What to Say, Do, and Prepare Before Caregiving Becomes Your Second Full-Time Job. It's a practical guide for anyone, but especially targeted towards for high-capacity women navigating aging parents, tough decisions, and caregiving curveballs — with clarity, confidence, and compassion.

If there’s one truth I carry from a decade of caregiving, it’s this: life can turn on a dime. Hug your loved ones. Take the picture. Say the words. And when the storm comes, because it will, be prepared and trust that you’ll find the strength to take the next right step.

Be first to know when the book launches. Get updates, behind-the-scenes notes, and launch info about
​My Caregiving Essentials here. 

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