When my brother and I spend time together, we fall into the habit of examining the crazy quilt that is our family history. Unlike many quilts, constructed by carefully replicating a set pattern, a crazy quilt consists of oddly shaped blocks, arranged in a pattern that springs out of the quilter’s own thoughts. Our family history is like that.

I, like many others, felt unprepared for caring for my aging parents when they suddenly needed me. With all of our education and experience, why is that? Perhaps it is because there is a general feeling that caring for parents is an interruption to “real life” and a burden. Perhaps society is so youth oriented that we do not consider it a privilege to care for the older person that no longer is the same. Perhaps it is denial.