11/04/2025
When Roles Shift…
Lately the lessons in my journey are heavy and unexpected. Yet, in the midst of my reflection, I can hear: “Pay attention, this is where you grow.” I’m learning to honor these moments,intently listening for what it’s trying to teach me.
This season is not easy. My mother, the woman who has been my inspiration, who once held every detail of our lives: birthdays, the best arroz con gandules and arroz con pollo, who taught us evening prayers and to hope for more, is slowly forgetting.
This year, for the first time, she forgot my brother’s birthday. It may seem a small thing , but to me, it felt like heartbreak. You see she always woke up early to sing Las Mañanitas for our birthdays. Her forgetting was a reminder that time is quickly changing her, changing me and that our little family will never be the same.
Caring for a parent with dementia is both special and exhausting. It’s a love that requires patience, tenderness, and constant adjustment. Some days, it feels like grief with no clear edges, mourning pieces of someone who is still here but is slowly leaving us and while I pour love into her, I am also learning that self-care is not optional, it’s survival.
I remind myself (and maybe this is a reminder for you, too) that I must
take pause, let myself cry, accept help and that I also need to do things that fill me and reenergize my emptiness.
Because when we are the caregivers, emotionally, physically, spiritually, we can’t give from an empty cup.
To everyone navigating this season: you are not alone. There is purpose in every tear, every sigh, every small victory and there is still light, even in the slow unraveling of memory.
I remind myself to step into my power, continue to lead my family without fear, but also, to rest without guilt.
So now my question to you is:
What are the ways you fill your cup?
