Caring for Three Loved Ones: My Journey Through Caregiving, Cancer, Chronic Illness, and Love

 

When my Dad moved in with me in 2019—just months before the world shut down due to Covid—I thought I was simply preparing to help an aging parent through the normal challenges of getting older. I had no idea that our home would soon become a small, fierce pod where three of the people I love most would face battles I never saw coming. I also didn’t know that caregiving would change me in ways I’m still discovering.

Caregiving arrived in layers. It began with Dad—always the steady, gentle soul in my life. Stoic, kind, generous, endlessly grateful. During the long months of the pandemic, we built routines and memories I will always hold close. For a long time, caregiving for him required very little. Other than a few medical scares—a heart valve replacement among them—he was remarkably healthy.

Then, in 2023, everything shifted. Dad suddenly required a Foley catheter. I know that may not sound like much from the outside, but trust me, it changed everything about his daily life. Over the past two years, he has endured more than twenty hospital visits, chronic UTIs, catheter complications, and long stretches of pain and discomfort. And still, every single day, he says, “Thank you for all you do.” Sometimes those six words were what kept me going.

In 2022, life delivered another blow. My boyfriend was diagnosed with Stage 3C colon cancer that had metastasized. Joe fought hard through a ten-hour major surgery, chemotherapy, uncertainty, and the slow rebuilding of strength.  In the end, he SURVIVED what could have taken him. Even during chemo and recovery, he continued helping me with Dad. I am so blessed to have witnessed two different generations of men supporting each other with humor, compassion, and bravery.

Just when I thought we had survived enough, my daughter—my only child, my heart—entered her own medical storm. Living with chronic Lyme and liver disease, she endured four major surgeries in 2025, long recoveries, and a frightening two-week hospital stay. My sweet Heather is a fighter—her strength and determination never cease to amaze me. During each recovery, she stays with us, and I care for her the way I did when she was little—because that’s what mothers do.

Three people. Three journeys. All under my roof.

There were days when the weight of caregiving felt overwhelming—nights when I ran on fear, exhaustion, and instinct alone. But caregiving taught me something powerful: love expands you. It becomes strength you didn’t know you had. Caregiving isn’t just about tasks or routines; it’s holding a hand in a hospital bed, making meals no one feels like eating, staying steady when fear threatens to take over, and becoming the anchor for the people who need you most.

I never expected to care for two generations at once, but I guess this is the reality for many in my age group—the “sandwich generation,” caring for both parents and children. And if life asked me again, I would say yes every time, because they are my family and my reason.

Somehow, in the middle of surgeries, infections, cancer treatments, setbacks, and emergencies, we became closer. Dad with his gentle gratitude. My boyfriend with his fierce determination to survive. My daughter with her unbelievable resilience. They each fought battles they never asked for, and I fought right beside them.

As hard as it was, our little pod became something extraordinary—filled with compassion, humor, patience, and love.

Caregiving for one person is hard. Caregiving for two at different times is overwhelming. Caregiving for two at the same time is something only love can make possible. I didn’t choose this journey, but I embraced it. And along the way, I witnessed the absolute best of the people I love—their courage, their hope, their gratitude, and their ability to keep fighting.

We survived all of it together. We made it through the impossible. And now we keep moving forward—one day, one challenge, one blessing at a time.

I also feel I should say: I’m not perfect, and I’m definitely not a saint (SHOCKING). I’m just a daughter, a mom, and a partner doing what needs to be done. Caregiving is tough, and there have been real struggles behind the scenes. I’ll be sharing more about those challenges too, because they’re part of the story.

xo
Lisa