Caring for my mom after her Alzheimer's diagnosis

When Mom was diagnosed with early-stage Alzheimer's at 72, I didn't know where to start. My sister lives across the country, my brother "doesn't do medical stuff," and I was suddenly the primary person responsible for a woman who had always taken care of everyone else.

The first six months were the hardest. I was her daughter — but I was also, increasingly, her caregiver. Learning to do both at once is something no one prepares you for. The roles got tangled in ways that were confusing and painful for both of us.

What helped was finding this community. Reading other people's stories — even just knowing others had been through this — made me feel less alone in a way I cannot fully articulate. I also found a support group through the Alzheimer's Association that met virtually, which I could attend after Mom went to sleep.

Three years later, Mom is in the middle stage. She doesn't always know my name. But she knows I love her — I can tell from how she responds when I walk in the room, from the way she holds my hand. Connection exists beyond memory, and that has been one of the most profound things I've learned through this.

To anyone just starting this journey: you are going to be okay. You will figure it out, one day at a time. And you don't have to do it alone.