One of my favorite people in the entire world is my Grandpa. He taught me so much and absolutely spoiled me as a kid. Honestly, he pretty much raised me. I love this man deeply—he shaped my work ethic and always encouraged me to become whatever I wanted to be.
Before I was born, he bought a mobile home park. As a kid, I’d ride around with him on the golf cart, helping fix things and being his little shadow. I was glued to him. Those early years with Grandpa are some of my most treasured memories.
Stepping Into Responsibility Early
I started helping my grandparents with their finances when I was just 15. Managing their money at such a young age taught me invaluable skills I still use today. Even after moving away—first out of state and then overseas—I rarely missed a weekly visit or Sunday call. Talking to Grandpa every Sunday was non-negotiable; it was his tradition to call all his children and grandchildren.
As the years went on, my Grandma’s dementia gradually worsened. By the time I was 30, it had progressed to the point where my Grandpa couldn’t care for her on his own anymore. That’s when we made the difficult decision to move them into a memory care facility.
In 2018, they officially moved into assisted living, and it was… chaotic, to say the least. Grandpa was still driving and taking Grandma to the bank and all her medical appointments, while I handled the finances from behind the scenes. Eventually, I moved them out of their house and rented it out for extra income. Forty years in one house meant a lot of stuff—so the kids got a giant storage unit to sort through later.
Over time, I gradually took on more and more of their financial responsibilities. Grandpa was still sharp and liked being involved, so we worked as a team for many years.
Loss, Lockdowns, and Taking on More
At the end of 2019, Grandpa was hospitalized with a severe infection. Grandma, left alone in the facility, declined rapidly. She passed away in March 2020, just weeks after the COVID lockdown began. Grandpa couldn’t even attend her burial because of the restrictions. It was heartbreaking.
By then, my aunt had stepped in to manage the medical side of things from the East Coast, while I lived 15 minutes away and handled everything else. That balance continued until the summer of 2024.
The Breaking Point
In 2024, Grandpa was in and out of the hospital with recurring infections. One day, my aunt called me hysterical—she didn’t know where he’d been taken. I rushed from work to one hospital, then another, and finally found him mute and disoriented. It was terrifying.
I stayed with him until 11 p.m. that night, then returned every day until he started talking again four days later. That was my breaking point. I had just started a new job, my dad had passed away a few months earlier, and I was running on fumes. Grandpa was 92 and declining.
During visits, I was juggling endless to-do lists: paying bills, giving manicures, cutting hair, checking meds, transferring funds, cleaning and decorating his room—you name it. For years, my “visits” were nonstop tasks.
I finally told my aunt we needed help. Either we hire someone to check on him daily, or he needed to move closer to her. Slowly, over nine months, I transitioned those responsibilities to others.
Reclaiming My Role as Granddaughter
Letting go was one of the hardest—and best—decisions I’ve ever made. For the past six months, my visits with Grandpa have been completely different. Instead of racing around doing chores, I sit with him. I hold his hand. Sometimes I rest my head on his shoulder while we watch TV. Other times I bring dessert or fruit, and we just talk about random things.
I get to be his granddaughter again—not his caregiver.
Some people think that truly loving someone means doing everything for them. But setting boundaries and stepping back was the most loving thing I could do for both of us. If you have the resources, I highly recommend distancing yourself from the medical and financial grind at the end of a loved one’s life. Spend your energy on quality time.
No one romanticizes wiping a 90-year-old’s butt—but people do glorify “sacrificing everything” to be a caregiver. And while that can be beautiful, it’s not the only way to show love.
I don’t know how much time I have left with Grandpa, but now our moments are filled with long hugs, shared sweets, hand-holding, and “I love you’s.” And honestly, that’s exactly what we both need.
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