One of the reasons I began this blog was to share what I’ve learned over the past five years about aging and the world behind the locked closed door.
When I took on the responsibility of caring for my parents full-time I thought I was prepared. I wasn’t too worried about the challenge of managing their physical and emotional health concerns and after all why should I be? They were my parents, had always been successful at being parents and adults and had led the way for me. But after my brother and two sisters drove our folks down here, along with their clothing and few pieces of furniture, after the bed and TV were set up, after I waved goodbye to my siblings and stood in my dining room remembering that the night before Mom was demanding I get her the police or a doctor at 2AM, that I had run down the stairs from my bedroom every hour on the hour all night long trying to help Mom get back into bed, when I’d seen her eyes flash instantly from recognition that I was her daughter to horror that I was a harmful stranger, I remember a moment of panic. What had always brought joy to me in my life, that of spending time with my folks, was suddenly terrifying. How was I going to do this all by myself? What had I gotten myself into? I had no clue what was in store for any of us.