Thoughts on the decision to move my mom into memory care

When I made the decision to move my mom into memory care, I found myself caught in a profound internal struggle. Balancing her dignity with the undeniable reality of her condition was a heart-wrenching journey. For two years, I was her primary caregiver, trying to ensure she felt loved and respected, all while grappling with the overwhelming pressures of her care.

This journey deeply impacted my personal and professional life. My work suffered, and my relationships, including the one with my partner, began to fray under the weight of responsibility. We had just started our life together, buying a house with the intention of giving my mom a stable, loving environment for as long as possible. The idea of placing her in a facility felt like a betrayal of that promise.

Yet, as time passed, it became clear that her needs were outgrowing what I could provide. She grew more agitated, and her decisions were no longer in her best interest. The realization that I might not be the best person to provide the care she needed was a painful one. I feared she might feel abandoned, and the thought of someone else taking over the routines we had built together was almost unbearable.

But deep down, I knew that moving her into memory care was the right thing to do. It wasn’t about abandoning her; it was about ensuring she had the specialized care she deserved. This decision, as difficult as it was, was ultimately an act of love—one that allowed her to receive the attention and expertise she needed, even if it meant redefining my role in her life.