This story is based on an interview with Elizabeth Stephens, 45, an HR worker-turned-carer from Lancaster, Texas. It has been edited for length and clarity.
I asked to transfer from Houston to Dallas in my HR role at a leading insurance company because I was very worried about my mom, who lived there.
It was June 2024, but she’d been having issues with high anxiety and forgetfulness for around two years. She’d always been very neat. Then she was the opposite.
Mom started to become overwhelmed
Stacks of papers started to pile up in her house, and she felt overwhelmed by letters from Medicare and about retirement stuff. She loved decorating for each new season, but her fall decor stayed up for a year.
She was referred to a neuropsychologist and failed all the tests. Then, after an MRI and a PET scan, she was diagnosed in October 2024 with Alzheimer’s disease and cerebral amyloid angiopathy (CAA).
Courtesy of Elizabeth Stephens
I wasn’t completely surprised. It was the confirmation that made me cry in the clinic. I was glad I’d made the move to Dallas, especially because I was pregnant.
At first, Mom stayed in her own house, around 25 minutes away from mine. I had my son in January 2025, and later put him in $1,100-a-month day care while I worked at my office in downtown Dallas.
I worked out a routine where my friend would go over and check in on her in the morning. I’d stop by in the evening after picking up the baby. I made sure she ate dinner.
It was nice because she read books to her grandson, even though he was still very much an infant.
Things got stressful
Then, one night in October last year, as I was getting ready to leave, my mom followed me to the car, carrying a big bag. She announced she was either coming with us or wandering the streets all night. Of course, she moved into our house.
Things got physically and mentally stressful as I tried to juggle my $99,000 job with my family life. I would go between my mom and my son, trying to get them dressed and breakfasted before work in the morning.
She would resist getting out of bed for her day care center, which cost $90 a day, while he would run all over the place, refusing to put his clothes on.
Courtesy of Elizabeth Stephens
After I’d dropped them off at their separate locations, I’d drive 45 minutes to work in heavy traffic and arrive at the office exhausted. It felt as if I’d run a marathon before I logged onto my computer.
Then, I did the reverse in the afternoons before making dinner. I took shortcuts like buying all-in-one meal kits and ready meals, but they were expensive.
I employed private carers for Mom to pick up the slack. A friend and a cousin did it for love and either refused payment or charged only $10 an hour. Agency rates went as high as $35 an hour.
I felt relieved when I was laid off
Somehow, we survived six months until March 2026. Mom had fallen at home and was in rehab when I got “the” call from work. As soon as I saw the HR VP join, I thought, “Oh, this is a layoff conversation.”
There had been a lot of voluntary early retirements and layoffs, and I knew I wouldn’t necessarily be exempt. I was entitled to 24 weeks of severance and health insurance through subsidized COBRA.
I honestly felt relief. Something had to give. And, in this case, it was my career. Fortunately, I had done a good job of saving and setting up a 401(k) plan with a decent percentage match.
Courtesy of Elizabeth Stephens
Mom’s Social Security, retirement funds, and Medicare just about covered her outgoings, such as the two- or three-times-a-week daycare, and I have used my severance so far. We’re also considering selling or renting out Mom’s house.
I have made safety modifications in the bathroom, including grab rails, a shower bench, and a handheld shower. And I bought Mom a more suitable bed.
Right now, my goal is to make sure she, my son, and I are all looked after. It’s the reason I bring in help for babysitting and respite care. My philosophy has always been that “you can pay for peace, or live in chaos.”
I launched a podcast for carers
The plan is for Mom, 73, to live at home with me as long as possible. When it’s no longer feasible, in accordance with her wishes, I will look for a place where she can receive the care she needs.
Meanwhile, I’m figuring out my next steps in my working life: something related to eldercare and dementia care. I run a monthly memory café for caregivers and their loved ones. I also launched an independent podcast to help us feel seen and heard.
It’s called “What Ordinary Looks Like.” To me, the daily routine of caring looks a lot like love.
