Caregiving is one of those things you don’t fully understand until you’re in it—deep in the day-to-day, the heart-heavy moments, the quiet routines, and the exhaustion that doesn’t just live in your body… it settles in your spirit.
My dad can’t do much for himself anymore. He can’t wipe his face. He can’t blow his nose. I’m the one who does all of that—and more. I bathe him. I shave him. I change his diapers. I give him his meds. I cut his hair (see my bootleg barbershop below). I trim his nails, toes, and eyebrows. You name it! I make sure he’s clean, fed, comfortable, and safe. And I do it with love… because that’s my daddy, and I love him.
And while he may no longer have control over his physical body, one of the greatest gifts I still have is that his mind is strong. He’s mentally clear, sharp, and still the wise, witty man I’ve always known. We talk. We laugh. We reflect. And those conversations? They’re sacred to me.
🌪️ The Part People Don’t See
But let me be real: this is hard. I don’t have reliable help, at least I haven’t in the past, and we’ve gone through soooooo many aides. However, at the moment we do have an aide that is truly wonderful. Lord knows I have been praying for reliability! Anyway, when I was without help, and those periods of time could span up to a year, or 6 months here or there, I didn’t get to clock out.
There were no shift changes, no backup caregiver waiting in the wings. It was me—day in and day out.
Sure, I have a couple of friends I can vent to, but they don’t walk in my shoes. They care, and I’m grateful—but they can’t truly feel the weight of this role. That’s why I created this space… to speak to the women who know this life. Who feels it. Who live it, too.
👩🏽🔧 I’m Betty Crocker, Barbara the Builder, and the Accountant
My best friend calls me “Barbara the Builder.”
Why? Because I’m the one figuring it all out. Fixing what’s broken. Patching what’s leaking—physically, emotionally, and financially. My dad thinks I’m Betty Crocker‘s protégé, a superhero, his bookkeeper, his landscaper (see my lawnmower below), his everything… and honestly, most days I am
But sometimes, I want to shout, “I’m tired!” Then I remind myself that if he were able to do it, he would. So, I manage to find a way to get things done instead.
💛 The Love That Keeps Me Here
Still… I wouldn’t trade this.
Because I know in my heart: no one else would care for my dad the way I do. No one would treat him with the dignity, the gentleness, and the sacred attention I bring to him every single day.
This role, though exhausting, is also an extension of my purpose. I love serving others—it’s written into who I am. And I’m proud of the care I give. I just know… I need to get better at caring for myself, too.
🔁 Learning to Find Balance
Finding balance is the next mountain I’m learning to climb. Not just physically—but emotionally and mentally. Because when you’re everything for someone else, it’s easy to forget you’re someone, too.
Right now, that balance might look like this:
- Setting boundaries around my availability
- Combing my hair or scheduling a hair appointment
- Carving out small, sacred moments of stillness
- Letting go of the guilt when I say “not right now” or “give me a few minutes.”
- Asking for help… even when I don’t think anyone understands
- Taking a minute to dance…or line step!
✨ Final Thoughts
If you’re reading this and nodding because you get it, please know: I see you. I’m with you. You’re not invisible, and you’re not alone. Even on the days when you feel broken down and stretched too thin.
This blog isn’t just for me—it’s for us. The ones carrying full plates and full hearts. The ones trying to be everything to everyone… while learning to be someone to ourselves, too.
With strength, love, and a little bit of Barbara the Builder energy,
Daphne
Full Plate Femme