PART ONE: FOUNDATIONS Chapter 1: Discovery of Life in a Cardboard Box Chapter 2: Removing the Rose-Colored Glasses Chapter 3: Sticker Shock---Who Really Pays? Chapter 4: The Oreo Cookie---Stuck In the Middle PART TWO: THE FAST MOVING TRAIN Chapter 5: The Starry-Eyed Caregiver Chapter 6: Family Ties Chapter 7: The Next Chapter Chapter 8: Self Preservation PART THREE: DANGER AHEAD---THE UNEXPECTED Chapter 9: Managing the Unpredictable and the Unexpected Chapter 10: The Tip of the Iceberg Chapter 11: The Pleasantly Forgetful PART FOUR: CLOSURE Chapter 12: Dying Changes Everything

A very objective, informative and heart-warming guide for adult children who find themselves caring for aging parent, many think, simply because they are the daughter or son, they know what is best for their parent and then feel guilty because they are overwhelmed by the task. Too often I have heard, “I think we made a mistake in our decision.” Reading the experiences of this author will give confidence to the reader that the solutions offered are not only professional and objective, but equally as important, they are from the heart. --- Astrid Tertel, caregiver Today is the time to make connections with our parents before time passes. Time also for the conversation of care, years before care is needed.” Pamela Wilson asks the reader to appreciate the fragility of life by valuing our relationships, and to take a proactive stance by realizing that how we live now will shape the future as we age. She offers a toolbox of strategies to help the caregiver move forward with foresight, knowledge, and skills to plan for the future. ---Tina Wells, MA, Alzheimer’s Association Colorado Pamela Wilson has provided us with an information-rich, enormously detailed and practical, very deeply personal, and even fearless exploration and understanding of the all-too-often simply overwhelming care-giving process. It will be a book---like her practice phone number---that I keep within close reach in my own office, and imagine sharing with patients and their families for years to come. ---Jay Schneiders, PhD., ABPP, Clinical Neuropsychologist & Health Psychologist There is a phrase from Pamela Wilson’s new book "The Caregiving Trap" that says it all: “Logic is absent from many caregiving situations as emotions take over the driver’s seat.” Being a nurse who has been a caregiver for over 40 years, I wish I had found Pamela’s book much earlier in my life. Caring for elders is a special skill. Over the last 15 years while caring for my own aging parents, I have encountered absolutely wonderful, patient souls who clearly have a gift with this population. But the trick for the rest of us is to listen to these knowledgeable folks. Pamela is an expert who has provided heartfelt, concrete advice to guide others through this challenging process. ---Patricia A. Herlily, Ph.D., R.N., Rocky Mountain Research No one is more experienced or knowledgeable in helping caregivers and care recipients than Pamela Wilson. Pamela is an educator and a professional caregiver. She knows what works and her advice is more than theory, it has been tested in practical application. ---John J. Horan, CMSP/CFSP, Horan & McConaty This book is a must read not only for any health professional interacting with the elderly and disabled individuals but also for any adult who could possibly find themselves in a care giving situation or the recipient of caregiving now or in the future. Pamela’s personal and professional experience, along with extensive research, offers a compassionate, perceptive and detailed resource. Familiar scenarios, probing questions, and realistic options are presented, all with the end goal of better quality of life for both the recipient of care and the caregiver. ---Linda Warwick, RN Hospice and Alternative Therapy Practitioner

The brown cardboard box sat atop the bed in the vacant room. Sunshine streamed from the window directly above the bed onto a few thirsty plants perched on the narrow windowsill. Inside the box was an oval plastic coin purse I imagined was purchased years earlier at what my parents affectionately called a dime store. Dark green in color and made of soft plastic, the coin purse had a slit down the middle that opened like a mouth when thumb and index finger squeezed both ends. Inside the coin purse I discovered a silver dollar---imprinted with AA---a date and embellished with colored jewels glued in a circle representing the number of years sober. I later learned that being given this coin is a tradition of twelve-step groups. In the box were the front pages of greeting cards with pictures of flowers, wheat fields, and open prairies; the other half that would have contained a greeting or signature was cut off in a jagged path by sharp scissors. Hidden inside the bottom of the box, were a wrinkled handkerchief embroidered with the initials SH and a pink crystal rosary. Absent from the box was a ring of purely sentimental value that was on her hand the last time I saw her, but not with her at the time the funeral home staff arrived to pick up her body. The missing ring was never found. An employee of the nursing home likely slipped the ring off her finger just prior to or after her death. These few belongings were all that remained of Sarah’s life, and I was the only interested party available to collect them. Sarah’s death struck me as significant and melancholy. Sarah lived to the age of eighty-seven. There was no one except me to mourn her passing or to shed a tear, no one except me to know or care where Sarah was buried or to visit her burial place to acknowledge the life she had lived. Cemeteries are filled with stones bearing the names of people who no one visits. My clients tell me that their greatest fear is not dying but the fear of dying alone. It disturbed me that Sarah’s presence on earth was memorialized by material belongings in a solitary cardboard box that now belonged to me. I wanted to believe that life---that all of our lives---offer some legacy to a world that we may no longer inhabit. Holding the cardboard box of belongings gave me a better understanding of the isolation that many individuals experience in the latter years of life. While many of us take for granted frequent emails or phone calls from friends or the ease of going shopping or joining groups of friends, for many older adults advancing age and poor health prohibit participation in these activities. “People with stronger social relationships have a fifty percent increased likelihood of survival than those with weaker social relationships.” Having friends and participating in social activities has a positive impact on quality of life. Older adults become isolated due to loss of friends or family, limited physical mobility, and reduced income that restricts participation in activities like going out for dinner with a friend or joining an interest group. Social isolation and loneliness negatively impact quality of life in many ways that include poorer health, increased medical expenses and moving to a community of care much earlier than expected. Today, families are spread across great distances. When older family members age and become isolated, family is many times unaware or uninvolved of daily struggles or health challenges. I know this to be personally true. This past holiday season I learned of the passing of an uncle who lived at a distance. Because contact with my uncle and aunt consisted of written cards and visits every several years I had no idea my uncle’s health had declined and would have not known of his passing if his niece had failed to respond to my holiday card. As a result of receiving a note in the mail, I had a wonderful telephone conversation sharing memories of my uncle with his niece, who knew of me but whom I had never met in person. Sometimes it takes great loss before we are fully able to understand the value of human connection. Life passes with time and we age. Remaining connected to family is important even if contact is by email or phone. If you doubt the human desire for connection, look at the popularity of Facebook and social media and the way these allow connection to those in our present and in our past. We seek to connect even if the connection is through the convenience of a computer and the Internet.