When I think about my caregiving experience, it often evokes memories of the act of caregiving. I recall how the hours, days and years were filled. I can still envision the list of items I felt compelled to learn about, the vital calls that I needed to make and the creative methods of problem solving around issues that were unanticipated and constantly evolving. I have embodied all caregiving roles: I was the primary caregiver and lived with my parents; I have been the sec

"Why don't you move home and reassess your next steps, spend time with family and just take a break?" Those were my mother's words to me when I decided to move out of Los Angeles. Agreeing to all of this represented a surrendering to a new life, one that I had been apart from on an intimate level for some time. My father had been sick for six years by this point and I knew that returning home signified a commitment by me to his care. It would be my silent agreement- my consen

I remember my parent's biggest topic of discussion, usually part of our dinner conversation, was how they would spend their retirement. Traveling was always the consensus. But the details of how long they would spend in a certain country were always up for debate. There was never an inkling of thought that neither of them would have the opportunity to do so. Traveling around the world was their dream. And despite many challenging times in their lifetime, they never abandoned