Caring For Others Starts With Caring For You.

Loved ones: Mother Sarah Caplan (Age 73)

What's a favorite memory with your mom?

Growing up, I was like my mom's shadow. She was a single, working mom, so wherever she went, I went too. And she went to some amazing places! When I was six, she took me to Italy where she was producing a movie, and I spent half the first grade traipsing the streets of Rome, ordering tuna sandwiches in questionable Italian.

On the weekends, when she wasn't working, we'd visit old ruins or museums and when we got home, we'd turn our apartment into an art studio, where I'd recreate famous works with a paintbrush and the gusto of a six year old. My painting of the Colosseum still hangs in her house today.

What does the word “caregiver” mean to you personally?

For me, being a caregiver feels like repeatedly performing an impossible magic trick.

What's something that might surprise people about your daily life with your mom?

I think what's surprising is how ostensibly normal daily life can look and feel. It's sort of like staring into a foggy mirror after taking a shower - you know you're looking at your reflection, but you can't quite grasp the edges.

What does taking care of yourself look like these days? Where do you find little moments to rest or reset?

I am leaning into the Sunday Roast. Every Sunday I go to the farmers market, pick up a fresh chicken, potatoes, and whatever vegetables are in season, stop by the local wine store for a good bottle of something red, and spend the afternoon pretending I'm Martha Stewart.

By the end of this journey, I will at the very least have mastered the perfect roast chicken.

If you could give one piece of advice to someone just beginning their caregiving journey, what would you say?

While nothing can prepare you for the utter transformation of your relationship, particularly with a parent, you have to remember: it's not them, it's the disease.

This has been my saving grace. The notion I cling to when I am upset at the incongruous way my mom is behaving. It's the only way I've been able to recalibrate my brain to not take her actions personally.

It's not her, it's the disease. It's my mantra.

Loved ones: Sue Sonthisombati (Age 86) & Daughter Danica (Age 5) & Godson Enzo (Age 14)

What's a favorite memory with your mom and/or children?

It's difficult to pick a favorite memory since I am grateful everyday that we have this time together but I can share the pivotal memory that makes all these other moments possible. In Jan 2019, I suffered my second miscarriage. That hit me hard because we made it to 13 weeks and I felt that my dream of being a mom might become reality.

It was hard for me to accept that loss because I didn't understand why the universe would give me the joy of pregnancy again without a child. Then four months my mom had a stroke that took her vision and was diagnosed with Stage 3C colon cancer.

It was at the moment that I believed that everything happens for a reason. It would not have been possible for me to become my mom's sole caregiver if I would have been seven months pregnant. The next six months were filled with surgeries, learning how to navigate ileostomy bags, hospital stays and recovery. When my mom became stable, I decided that I would try IVF another time in hopes that I could become a mother and my mom could meet my child.

The next 9 months was a time of cautious optimism and looming fear and anxiety. I was happy to be pregnant but we were unsure if my mom's cancer would return and also we were in the middle of a worldwide pandemic. In June 2020, I gave birth to my daughter Danica. I had always imagined my mom would be in the delivery room and be one of the firsts to get to hold her grandchild.

Instead, my mom was locked up in a nursing home where Covid was claiming the lives of seniors by the masses. In September 2020, I received the dreaded call that my mom got Covid. I was told that I needed to say our goodbyes through FaceTime since she was quarantined. Miraculously, my mom survived.

In December 2020 when my daughter was almost 6 months old, I made the decision to fly over and have my mother meet my daughter. Restrictions were still in place but when my mom was at her oncologist appointment, my daughter and I went to the parking lot and my mom finally got to hold her granddaughter. Later at the appointment, we found out the cancer returned. My mom said she would refuse the chemo and her doctor said that without chemotherapy, she would have a zero percent chance to see my daughter grow up. My mother looked at my daughter, then at the doctor and said, "give me the chemo." I remember this moment because it was when my mom chose to fight all her illnesses and endure the pain of treatments for the simple joys that my daughter brings to her.

It's been five years since that day and we have had countless memories, birthdays and holidays together as three generations. My mom is currently cancer free and we are beyond grateful for the gift of time that we have been given.

What does the word “caregiver” mean to you personally?

To me, the word caregiver goes beyond just providing care and doing the daily tasks that are required for my mom. In addition to her blindness and other physical disabilities, my mom was diagnosed with vascular dementia last year. I have been witnessing her mental and physical decline and I wake up each day not knowing what to expect.

As her caregiver, I feel that my role now mirrors how she must have felt when she first held me as a baby. I am responsible for every component of her survival and happiness. It really is a circle of life where I am now able to take care of someone who has not only given me life but nurtured and poured herself into raising me to be the person I am today. As a single mom, she cared, gave and sacrificed her need to give us a chance for a life with a promising future. I do not see my current sacrifices as a burden but as a chance to return some of the life that she sacrificed for me.

What's something that might surprise people about your daily life with your family? (Our goal with this question is to shine a light on what caregiving looks like, and how it can look so different from family to family)

I currently take care of my mom (86), my godson (14) and my daughter (5). Each person has different needs and priorities. As a sandwich caregiver, my daily life involves lots of teaching and coaching moments. As a parent, I am teaching my daughter how to read and my teenager values that will help him make the right choices. These are common lessons as we are helping raise kids who are developing and gaining more skills and knowledge each day. As a caregiver for my mom, it's different. She is nearing the end of her life and losing her capabilities. I spend my days teaching her how to do the tasks that toddlers are learning-- eating, swallowing, walking, etc.

Each day I experience joy when I see that my daughter and godson are improving and maturing. I am saddened to see my mom decline and not remember how to do things that she taught me to do. The dichotomy is my daily life and I need to strive to continue to find gratitude for the time and moments that we have as a family. My hope is that the kids seeing and experiencing my mom's decline teaches them empathy and awareness for how precious life really is.

What does taking care of yourself look like these days?

To be honest, I rarely take care of myself. There are not enough hours in the day for me when I am the only adult caring for 3 people with needs. I am happy if I am able to make and attend a doctor's annual check up for myself. I try to prioritize this because I know I need to be healthy in order to care for others.

Where do you find little moments to rest or reset?

When everyone is asleep, I try to find a moment to watch some silly reels, catch up on the phone with a friend or sneak a treat.

If you could give one piece of advice to someone just beginning their caregiving journey, what would you say?

The best life lesson my mom taught me was "Look up and look down." The concept taught me gratitude and humility. I remember when I was young, I told my mom I was sad that we didn't live in a big house with a pool like my friend. She told me that it's ok to look up and have goals of what I want. Then she told me to look down and see that others lived in smaller places with more people or didn't even have a place to live.

I use this philosophy as a way of giving me perspective when I have my hard days of caregiving. At times, I get exhausted and wish that I wasn't in my current situation but then I look down. I realize that six years ago, I thought my mother would not live past the 6 months that the doctors gave her and I didn't think I would become a mother after experiencing two miscarriages. Fast forward to now and although each day is hard, I am blessed to be able to care for the people I love most.

Loved ones: Mother Gertrude Jordan (Age 82) & Daughter Mckenzie Lewis (Age 18)

What's a favorite memory with your mom and/or children?

My favorite memory of Mommy was our car rides to school when I was a little girl. Every morning, she would pour into me and give me so much wisdom. She would always tell me to trust God for everything, to love and forgive people and treat them right, and remind me of how important it was to stay focused in school. And, I know it's odd for me to share a memory about our car conversations, but those conversations shaped me into the woman I am today.

What does the word “caregiver” mean to you personally?

The word caregiver holds so much weight, and it's impossible to define it, because caregivers do it all! Being a caregiver is a sacred assignment. I get to stand in the gap for my mother, be her advocate, honor her, take care of her, make decisions in her best interest, and be tasked with the honor of walking her into heaven when she leaves. So, to me, a caregiver means that I'm an unseen hero!

What's something that might surprise people about your daily life with your family? (Our goal with this question is to shine a light on what caregiving looks like, and how it can look so different from family to family.)

Something that might surprise people is that nothing ever goes as planned with our family, even when we have everything in place. Dementia doesn't honor time or care about schedules. Being a sandwich caregiver is hard because we are taking care of two daughters, who are in high school and are in extracurricular activities, while taking care of Mommy in the final stages of Alzheimer's. Some days are calm, and other days are frustrating, especially as she declines. I believe what surprises people the most is that even though this journey is complex and unpredictable, we still find joy! Our family isn't traditional. We have learned to be flexible, adapt, and share the weight of caregiving while living life with no regrets! Our servant-leadership approach allows us to savor the sweet moments of this journey while giving ourselves grace in the chaos.

What does taking care of yourself look like these days? Where do you find little moments to rest or reset?

Taking care of myself right now means being kind to myself and making sure I'm asking for help when I'm exhausted. I find moments to rest early in the morning. I also make sure I schedule small moments to grab coffee, go out to eat with girlfriends, and take walks on the beach.

If you could give one piece of advice to someone just beginning their caregiving journey, what would you say?

If I could give one piece of advice to a caregiver just beginning their journey, I would tell them that caregiving is not a sprint, but rather a marathon. Give yourself grace and take it moment by moment. It's a journey that will test you, but will make you grow in ways you've never expected.