Being a Young Caregiver

    I've watched my family shrink and shrink over the years. It wasn't a big family to begin with, I'm only the only grandchild on my mom's side. And I have an aunt and cousin on my dad's side but didn't connect with them until recently. I used to love being an only child. It was fun having the undivided attention of my parents, my aunt and my grandmother. But then my father passed away when I was eleven years old. And my aunt died when I was twenty years old. And then my mother found out she had Stage 4 Metastatic Breast Cancer when I was twenty and passed away a year later.
   So here I am, twenty five years young and feeling like the real Orphan Annie.  I moved into the apartment my grandmother and mother shared to take care of them. I slept on an inflatable mattress for six months, the three of us and a dog cramped into a 1 bedroom apartment. Now with my mom gone, I am the sole caregiver to my ninety one year old grandmother and her dog.
    Being a young caregiver is a hard role, and an often unsupported role.  Most people in their twenties are living  it up as young professionals in exciting new careers. I know my friends are. They're in New York City, Los Angeles, Portland, and Chicago. They have the freedom to only worry about themselves. I do not. I have lived with my grandmother the past year. Not only am I grieving over losing my mother and best friend, I am trying to finish my Bachelors of Science degree and work full-time for an airline. At first I just accepted that this was my role in life. That I was unlucky, and that continuing to live with my grandmother was my only option.
    But now, one year after my mother's death, I find myself faced with a tough decision. Over the year I have lost my familial relationship with my grandmother-I am just her caregiver. She orders me around because she is in need of many things, and doesn't give anything in return, not even gratitude. I began to lash out at her. I never thought I would swear or purposely ignore her, but I have. It is an awful feeling to hate the person that helped raise you. But it has come to this.
    So I ask myself, do I continue to put us both in this hostile environment? Or do I look for an assisted living facility? For a long time I couldn't even say that out loud. Now, after much consultation with my therapist, friends, and a clinical social worker, Grandma will be going into a home in two months. (Look for my post on assisted living care facilities.) I'm lucky that she has a good pension from working at General Hospital in San Francisco as a nurse and also has income from social security. She does not have any savings or assets, but it will be enough to pay her rent. But that means I will have to be on my own. It is a scary thought, to be completely responsible for myself. No more borrowing money from grandma or mom when I run tight, it is not a luxury I have anymore. No more advice on big decisions or boys. I am alone.