Caregiver? Who, me? Caregiver’s Journey? What’s that? Sounds like a trip I’d rather skip. My kids are grown, my life is finally my own. Why would I want to be somebody’s life preserver when their boat starts sinking?

Caregiving—it’s certainly not a journey most of us would anticipate, much less prepare for. We’ve been too busy living to think about dying.

Think back. When you’re young, you are invincible. You do crazy things and get away with it. You rarely get sick, take chances you shouldn’t. If you break a bone, it heals quickly. You eat fast food and don’t think about gluten or lactose. Sugar is still your friend. You text while driving—yeah, not supposed to do that, and manage to swerve just in time and miss the truck in the oncoming lane.

You don’t think about mortality.

It’s there of course, a specter looming in the background—but way in the background. You don’t really identify with death. You may lose grandparents, but they’re ‘old.’ Parents can get sick, but they usually hang on at least until you grow up. A classmate might get killed in a freak accident—but most kids you know are planning their future. With a few exceptions, the idea of ‘Caregiving’ is rarely on your horizon. And if there is a sighting, it’s brief, soon forgotten as you get on with getting on with your life.