Caring for My Parents — A Daughter’s Journey

When I was applying to college, I wrote my admissions essay about being an only child — and all the privileges that came with it. I described how being a “singleton” meant having undivided love, attention, and opportunity. What I never could have imagined was how, later in life, being an “only” would also mean carrying the weight of caring for both of my parents alone.

My mom and dad gave me the best childhood I could have ever hoped for. They filled my life with love, experiences, and every opportunity they could afford. After I graduated college, they moved to Florida to be closer to my grandparents — just as my grandmother was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. Watching my mom walk that journey with her mother was heartbreaking, and I remember praying I would never find myself in her shoes.

Sadly, that prayer went unanswered. A few years ago, my mom was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. For the first two years, she did remarkably well. She joined a clinical trial, hopeful that she could help others and make a difference. She actually looked forward to her monthly infusions, scans, and tests — they gave her a sense of purpose and dignity.

Then, on Mother’s Day of 2024, everything changed. Mom went to the supermarket — just a short walk from home — and didn’t return for six hours. By the grace of an angel on earth, she was found and brought safely home. It was then I realized something else was terribly wrong: my dad hadn’t even noticed she was missing. He was beginning to show signs of confusion himself.

In that moment, I knew I had to step in. Over the next two months, my husband and I made countless trips to Florida — packing up their apartment, turning in cars, selling furniture, and eventually moving both of my parents to Massachusetts so I could care for them.

Today, they are both living in a wonderful memory care facility near me. My mom receives full care, and my dad — while still trying to maintain some independence — is in the same community, surrounded by love and support. They are both thriving thanks to the extraordinary staff and the care they receive.

But as you can imagine, this level of care is incredibly expensive. I am the sole person responsible for their rent and expenses. Over the past year, especially while my husband was out of work due to illness, I’ve exhausted my savings supporting both their household and mine. As an only child, I feel it is my duty — and my honor — to give my parents the same love, safety, and dignity they gave me throughout my life.

For many years, we kept my mother’s diagnosis private. She was afraid of being judged or pitied. But now that she’s in a place designed for people like her, I’ve begun sharing her story more openly — because she deserves to be celebrated, not hidden.

I’m sharing our story because I can’t do this alone anymore. The financial burden has become overwhelming - in fact, I am in jeopardy of having to move them to a state run facility where they will be separated, so I am desperately seeking help. Any donation, no matter the amount, will go directly toward their care and housing.

From the bottom of my heart, thank you for taking the time to read our story — and for helping me give my parents the same love and peace they gave me all my life.