MY STORY began in 2014 when my wife, Kathy, was diagnosed with Mild Cognitive Impairment. It evolved into Early-onset Alzheimer's in 2018, and she passed away in April 2020, due to complications with Covid.

When I cared for Kathy at home, I did everything a caregiver could do, yet, after two years, I felt miserable. People told me to take more time for myself. That caregiving will pass. It's temporary. Stay strong. Have dinner with some friends. Take that day off you need. Eat better. Go to the gym or run or get to that yoga class. Repeat and repeat and repeat. And doing those things helped. But the help was temporary. And though I felt good doing them, I didn't gather any insights as to why I was still physically tired, emotionally exhausted, and spiritually drained.

I wanted to blame someone or something for how I felt. I suffered the way I saw other caregivers suffer. But I wanted a way out of my suffering. I hit a tipping point in the middle of 2018 when my circling thoughts focused on Kathy dying as soon as possible. I recognized that I was the problem, not caregiving and not Alzheimer's. I knew the relief I sought lay inward. I also knew that I couldn't look inward by myself.

Perhaps it was how the stars and planets were aligned, I can't be sure, but I found the willingness to ask for help.

I found someone and met with him weekly and still do today.

And then, in the middle of December, I realized that I could no longer care for my wife at home. I moved her into a memory care facility. I thought I had been cleaved in half. I felt such pain. I crashed. I felt scared and confused. I cried most days. Whatever had contributed to my feeling secure broke apart. Nothing I depended on worked. Nothing I believed in or had faith in helped.

Now I truly began to work with my teacher. Under his guidance, I looked inward. I studied with him. I developed a spiritual practice that helped me see myself, caregiving, and the world with more clarity.

I felt myself changing. I looked at my wife differently. I didn’t see her as disabled or ill. Her diagnosis didn't define our relationship.

Now, with a belief in something greater than myself, I found the courage to surrender to what was happening in front of me. Alzheimer's was traveling through Kathy's brain. Her physical presence would continue to deteriorate. Death was indisputable. Caregiving was neither a detour nor an interruption in my life. This was my karma.

I chose not to sit passively and wait for her to pass. This wasn't some holding pattern I was in and when it was over, I would return to my old life.

I worked on myself so that I could strengthen our relationship. I cleared away the debris that covered the truth of what was before me. I didn't let Alzheimer's limit us, define us, or obstruct us. I realized that every experience provides an opportunity to gain emotional and spiritual maturity. Every encounter is an opportunity to know yourself better.

As I adopted this new vision of reality, Kathy and I connected in ways that were unimaginable to me. I remember our last months together, and I smile. We were so in love. When I surrendered and accepted the reality of her passing in 2020, there were no unspoken words, no unresolved feelings.

My initial feelings of anger, frustration, and shame resolved into an ocean of love. Though I felt sad and cried when she died, I didn’t suffer. We completed our journey together, very much in love.

And that is the goal of Caregivers Journey workshop: turning your caregiving journey into a love story, more love for yourself and the person in your care.