When you think of “caregiving,” you often envision motherhood and the nurturing of young children. Unfortunately, what’s often overlooked is the responsibility of caring for a parent who isn't yet enjoying their golden years. We don't anticipate the physical, mental, financial, and emotional stamina required to care for them as well as advocate for them, nor do we consider the boundaries necessary to protect our own mental health and family. 

I’ve often been called “the sandwich generation,” but how can that apply to me before I reach forty?  I'm still in the endless abyss of trying to figure things out for myself...

It all began with what I dismissed as minor behaviors: wearing the same clothes for days, hiding hygiene issues, forgetting, or concealing needed medications, unexplained bruises, and tens of thousands of dollars given to online suitors. The most shocking? My mother’s delusion that she was promised a marriage to the prince of Dubai.

People often say, “At least you still have your mom.” (Cue eye roll.) I lost my dad over ten years ago and know what it means to grieve a parent. Just because her body is still here doesn’t mean my mom is. Her mind has faded, and she is no longer the woman I once knew. This misconception, though well-meaning, only adds to the pain, bitterness, and frustration. 

And for me, this situation is further complicated by the childhood trauma that resurfaces through this already challenging time.

The most profound aspect of this experience is my willingness to advocate for a woman who, despite her lack of love and support for me, deserves care. I’ve chosen to show up for her in ways she never did for me. When you give to someone who offers nothing in return, that’s true compassion. I chose advocacy over abandonment, not just because she’s my mom, but because I want to be a role model and stay true to who I am.

I have begun to accept the fact that my dreams of sharing my entrepreneurial success with her will not happen. The path to giving her the life she’s never had has taken a long, uncertain detour.

And despite my support system, I've never felt more SOLITUDE.

I’m fortunate to have a strong support system, and I’m incredibly grateful for my husband, children, in-laws, and sister. But they are also navigating this tumultuous journey with me- experiencing stress, anger, disappointment, and exhaustion all their own. My son’s senior year of high school has been overshadowed by frustration, while my freshman daughter strives to meet her Nonni’s delusions with compassion.

Initially, I hid this struggle out of embarrassment. My last memories in my mom’s home are tainted by the arrival of a psychiatrist and law enforcement for her Baker Act. I felt a profound sense of failure, sitting in what was meant to be her final home, waiting for her removal.  Two years of continuous intervention, resulting in emotional and financial debt- all for nothing.

As I have processed and reflected on this season in my life, I have refused to become a victim of this uncontrollable situation. The demands of caregiving have tested my endurance and capabilities, forcing me to suppress my emotions and act in ways that don’t come naturally to me. But I have refused to succumb to that. I’ve chosen a path of resilience and personal growth.  

Throughout this unimaginable process, I have learned a lot about myself, about love, and about advocacy. Here are the four key lessons this experience has taught me.

1. Start Estate Planning Sooner: Take care of estate planning while your elderly parents can still make sound decisions. This includes Medicaid planning, healthcare surrogacy, power of attorney, and all essential “end of life” documents to ensure a smoother legal transition.  Having done this before my mother's decline made the difference for me in assertively taking the lead in everything from financial to medical decisions.  

2. Intervene Sooner: Representation and advocacy for the elderly, particularly with mental health issues, is declining due to the elderly being a marginalized population. I made the mistake of excusing my mom’s behavior. Ignoring the signs of internet love scams and manic depression only delayed necessary action.  

3. Set Boundaries Sooner: Protect your mental health and well-being at all costs by establishing clear boundaries. This gives you the endurance required. I have learned that whatever capacity has diminished, can't be restored- it has taken me time to accept that. In the meantime, the volatility of her mental and physical state caused me severe burnout.  Decide on a healthy level of participation for you and accept that the situation won't be perfect.  And remember, no matter how difficult it may be, the life you are establishing for your parents is better than what they experienced alone.

4. Lean on Your Support System Sooner: For a time, I carried the physical and emotional weight of this situation. I remember trying to juggle my business and my family while feeling utterly drained and simultaneously embarrassed by this situation with my mom.  Without the understanding and full support of my family, I might have completely lost myself in this. Having a support system directly involved can not only lift the weight and shoulder the burden, but more importantly can provide a deeper understanding of the struggle and critical emotional support.

(Long sigh) We’ve recently moved my mom into an Assisted Living Facility, where she receives ongoing support for daily living. There are good days and bad, and I’ve had to come to terms with the fact that she will only progress to a certain extent. Even as she continues to decline, our family remains committed to advocating for the best care possible. There’s still the potential for an improved quality of life- and I will fight for that, and for her. 

The brightest moments are when I visit her with a small gift or treat and see her light up like a child. In those moments, I feel like I’m bringing back her inner child. In those moments, I think deeply about the lessons I’m being taught through this experience. 

It’s a journey that isn’t for the faint of heart. But I will continue to walk this path with grace, love, and resilience.