As an adult child that is caring for an aging parent,  there is a certain sadness that goes with the territory.

I know my mother as a vibrant woman who looked after me and my siblings while working full time and going to graduate school to get her Master’s degree in early education. Now, the woman I call Mom lies in a bed unable to care for even her most basic needs.

I stand by her bed when the attendant comes in to care for her, and I hear, “Hellooo, Caroline. How are you today?” There is no response from her, but I am crestfallen. I remind them that her name is actually Carolyn and that she was a school teacher in days past. She had energy and ideas galore. Her eyes no longer hold the spark that touched the lives of so many people throughout her career and life.

It is a somber reminder that we all need someone in our corner who remembers us and can let the world know who we really are.