Showers are great—for a garden. But if you stand under a waterfall for 30 days straight, you get bruised by the force of the water. You get waterlogged. You lose your footing.
If you are currently drowning in the act of loving a parent, put down the guilt. You are allowed to be a human, not a hero. The greatest gift you can give your mother isn't your exhaustion—it's your presence. And you can't be present if you're passed out on the floor. After a month of showering my mother with love ...
She squeezed my hand. "Honey," she said. "I don't need a shower. I just need a sip of water with you." Showers are great—for a garden
That’s when I realized my mistake. I had mistaken martyrdom for love . You lose your footing
After a Month of Showering My Mother With Love, I Learned the Hardest Lesson About Caregiving
It didn’t happen in a dramatic fight. It happened on Day 31. My mother asked me to grab her reading glasses from the other room—a two-second task. And I snapped. My voice cracked. "Can’t you get them yourself? I just sat down. I haven’t eaten today."
My mother doesn’t need a month of frantic, anxious love followed by a month of burnout recovery. She needs me to show up sustainably .