Caregiving

Gerrard used to love the rainy season in San Francisco. There was something about the cool air and the salty Bay Area rain that made him feel alive and energized. He never even really used to mind the flooding because, for him, it always seemed like a great chance to connect with his neighbors and lend a helping hand. Every year, when Gerrard was still able-bodied and strong, he and his wife would pick up sandbags for all the houses on his block in the back of his old VW van and help pile them up in front of everyone’s doorways and basement windows.

Diane looked forward to the holidays all year long. Every year, Diane would fly from her home in San Francisco to her daughter Helena’s home in Austin to spend the holidays with her beloved grandchildren.

When Ruth first started becoming afflicted with the slowly growing dusk of Alzheimer’s, the holidays became more difficult for her family. A time when we usually ward off the long nights with lights and love became a fraught mystery, filled with tension and a feeling of mute frustration.

In The Warmth of Other Suns, a Pulitzer Prize-winning non-fiction book from 2010, the writer, Isabel Wilkerson, documents the Great Migration, the wave of African-Americans moving north away from Jim Crow and sharecropping into the uncertain and fraught freedoms of the industrial north in the 1910s and 1920s. In it, she tells a story that is both familiar and jarring: that of grandparents raising grandchildren.