Full Circle

After my stepmother’s stroke, my father became primary caregiver, coordinating doctor appointments, filling prescriptions, grocery shopping, and cooking meals.

He often experienced caregiver burnout. I visited as much as possible, in the midst of a demanding sales job.

My stepmother passed away two years ago, a bittersweet ending to their thirty years together. He was devastated over her loss. “I miss not having anyone to talk to,” he told me.

I spent months helping him navigate the complex web of death. Months stretched into years. Never have I spent so much time with my parents.

Yet I still see them through the lens of a child.

Soon, my father will eighty-five. I’m thankful for our increased time together; for his new friends; for the lessons in caregiving he unwittingly shared with me – a blueprint for my own caregiving journey.

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