Normally I don’t show up to your inbox twice in one week, but its the third Friday in February and so I am sending Big Love to all of you caregivers out there today!
In case no one has told you lately…
Many of you are in the trenches with little kids, ailing parents, perhaps siblings or other relatives to care for - maybe all of the above. You do all the things that no one else sees. I see you. I’m right there with you. And I’m so grateful to all of you for being here and to those who have reached out to me directly to share your own stories.
Your job today is to do something for yourself - without added pressure or stress. Go on a walk. Daydream. Take yourself out for ice cream or an almond croissant. Curl up in bed early with a good book (from your ‘want to read’ not your ‘should read’ pile). Watch something funny.
Or, if you want to recognize another caregiver in your life, something as small as a handwritten note, a phone call, or giving them a little break from caregiving would likely mean the world.
I’m leaving for Mexico on Monday, where we’ll be celebrating the end of an era for the foundation I work for. I am also mentally preparing for this to coincide with the one year anniversary of my dad’s death - I can’t believe it has been a year. Needless to say, it’s going to be emotional all around. I’m grateful that I’ll be surrounded by colleagues who have also become dear friends. I’ll share the highs and lows with you when I’m back.
I am working on some interviews with other caregivers that I’ll begin to share here this spring! In the meantime, I’ve created a google form that you (or anyone you share this with!) can submit if you’d be interested in sharing your story on Gen Xandwich. I’m hoping to bring a range of helpful and unique care perspectives to the newsletter.
Fill the form out HERE If you’re interested! I’ll respond to everyone who fills it out.
❤️ Anna
Thinking of you at this nexus of anniversaries and events, Anna. Take care of yourself ♥️
YOU are amazing! Sending you 💜 for your journey this week.