As I get older, and my parents get older, I find myself shifting from the role of daughter to more of a caretaker, the infamous sandwich generation, I guess. From my short introduction, it sucks. It hurts my heart to see the people who raised me and never let me see the difficulties, need help.
There’s a certain frailty to them now. The infamous C word has struck home. Cancer. No word carries more horror. I won’t always be able to drop everything and make the 900 mile trip to them, but when I can, I do. And when my mom told me that I didn’t have to, my answer was, “Yes, I do.” I wish some others felt the same.
I’m used to taking care of my kids. Taking care of parents is shockingly similar to taking care of young kids. And yes, I occasionally take a time out. I had forgotten how exhausting it can be.
So I’ve stocked the fridge, and I’ve done what I can. Tomorrow, I’ll board a plane back home, and I’ll hope that there are no more emergencies for a while. And my heart will break a little.