“When my grandpa began to fade, I didn’t realize that I would be the one who’d fracture.

Nor did I realize how precipitously someone can slip away. Not long ago, my 97 year-old grandfather, a decorated World War II veteran, was living a proudly autonomous life. But shortly after his 95th birthday, everything changed. My family’s impromptu weekend visits became thrice-weekly meal drops, errand runs, and check-ins.”

…

“When I was younger, I always envisioned caring for my elders as something that would happen in a distant era “later on.” Maybe I’d have salt-and-pepper hair and bifocals and be doing yawn-worthy, respectable office work. That future version of me is more mature, established and utterly unrecognizable. He is actually ready for that responsibility.”

…

“With scant information available about LGBTQ+ millennials in my situation, I felt majorly isolated. I knew there had to be other queer millennials out there aging into family caregiver roles… but did they also feel out of their depth and woefully financially unprepared? Did they, too, flatten themselves around older family members? Were they also struggling to stay connected with themselves?”

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