Seven Years a Caregiver | When my parents died, I thought that I After caring for my elderly parents for seven years, I found it hard to abandon that role. It's been four years since my father died, but I still marvel at my ability to sleep through the night. I don't fear getting a phone call from the hospital, doctor's office, or nursing home. I no longer wonder whether my father ate enough or whether a hearing aid popped out and fell victim to an errant wheelchair. I also realize that I wasn't a perfect caregiver, but I was a good caregiver. I have forgiven myself for not taking my mother to the grocery store the fall before she died in January 2011. I have forgiven myself for not taking my father to every ball game my son played. I My father died four years ago, and during those years, I have realized that I am still a caregiver — a caregiver of memories. expanded my world in many ways, but it also made me realize that in the end, material possessions, a heavy-hitting career and a 3,000-square-foot house don't matter. Yes, my parents had had a big house, but when they could not care for it, they sold it. Yes, my father had had a good job as a chemical engineer with U.S. Steel in Pittsburgh, and yes, my parents, had amassed a lot of material possessions, some of which may be worth lots of money. Fortunately, for them, they knew that building relationships with friends and family mattered so much more. That's why I spent so much time preparing trays with an assortment of tasty treats after my mother came off life support; I figured that if she tried a few spoons of the strawberries with whipped cream, the peach yogurt and the milkshake, I would have gotten her to eat and build up her strength. Because I knew how much my dad and mom had supported me as a child, that's why I them Iview but also diminished it. I cherish memorable moments more than I once did. I comprehend the fleeting nature of time, and I don't hesitate to tell my husband, kids and other family members, "I Love You!" I now consider myself a caregiver of memories, and my blog allows me to reflect on how my experiences have molded my current life and my dreams for the future. I want to treasure those close to me, but I also welcome new people, new places and new experiences. I sound like one of the travelogues my parents, oldest sister and I attended in Pittsburgh, Pa., so many years ago.