While I was fueling up at a gas station in Oklahoma on a family road trip to the Grand Canyon, I received a shocking call from my sister: my dad had suffered a stroke. I tried to hide my tears from my kids, but it was challenging to mask the anguish. Once I was back in the car, I slumped down, overwhelmed. I had become so immersed in my role as a mother that I lost sight of my own childhood and my connection to my father. I had been so busy managing my own family that I often left my dad’s calls and texts unanswered.
I began contemplating whether to continue our trip or rush back home. As we drove past sprawling cattle farms and tumbleweeds, I felt trapped in the car, desperately seeking updates about my dad’s condition. Eventually, I lost cell reception. My sister texted me to call her, but I couldn’t get through. One message came through, “It’s not looking good, Jamie. I’m on my way.” I sat there, staring out the window for the next four hours, consumed by thoughts of how I had missed precious time with my dad during the pandemic.
I didn’t make it to the Grand Canyon. I knew if I continued on, I would lose contact with my family, so I decided to head to the nearest airport in Albuquerque. Defeated, I walked to the hotel room, sat on the bed, and booked my flight home. In that moment, I felt a profound urgency; I needed to see my dad one last time.
As I approached the hospital, I was overwhelmed by feelings of being a child again. I reverted to my familiar role of adoring my dad, now mixed with the weight of devastation. I was angry at the world, mentally listing all the things he could no longer do. He couldn’t walk, eat, or even talk. As his child, I feared he might not even remember me or our cherished memories. My hopes for a future with him began to fade as I entered the Intensive Care Unit (ICU).
However, something unexpected happened when I stepped into his ICU room. I shed my fears and insecurities as a child and switched into “mom mode.” This is a familiar instinct for mothers—a superhuman strength that emerges when our families need us. Transitioning into this role was incredibly challenging, yet I found the strength to be what my dad needed.
As I reached his bedside, I smiled, and I could see the recognition in his eyes. We both cried together. I wasn’t prepared to take on the role of caregiver for my parent, but the skills I had developed through motherhood made it feel instinctual.
During my time in the hospital, I supported my dad through therapy as he learned to walk, eat, and talk again. And he did. I took comfort in my maternal instincts—arranging his blanket, spoon-feeding him until he could manage on his own, applying lotion to his hands, and gently reminding him it was time for a nap, all while patiently helping him find his voice again.
“Say hi, Dad!” I encouraged him during our video calls. When he finally responded with an enthusiastic “Hi! Hi! Hi! Hi!” it felt like witnessing a child’s first words. Each milestone with my dad mirrored those precious firsts I experienced with my children: I will never forget seeing them crawl or ride a bike for the first time, just as I will always cherish witnessing my dad walk again and share a conversation over the phone.
Being there for my dad during this challenging time was both difficult and beautiful. Even though I wasn’t ready to take on the role of caregiver, motherhood equipped me with the skills to do it confidently. I had somewhat forgotten that, while I became a mother, I still remained a child. The beauty lies in the fact that we can channel our maternal skills to support our parents in their times of need, helping us navigate the most unexpected challenges.
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Summary:
This article details the profound experience of stepping into the role of caretaker for a parent after a sudden health crisis. It explores the emotional challenges faced when a child becomes a caregiver and reflects on how skills developed through motherhood can be invaluable in such times. It serves as a reminder that while we become parents, we still hold the identity of a child, and we can utilize our nurturing instincts to support our parents.
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