Crossing the Salish

Aging is not for the faint of heart. Caring for someone, especially for someone you love, is also not for the faint of heart. It is relentless. It invades your life. There is no end to the mundane, the terror, the bittersweet.

Panic as my phone rings at 9 pm, this time just to say goodnight. In the car driving to pick up my daughter, I realize I haven't ordered meds. Stressing over how I am going to find someone to take the Sunday night shift. There is no off switch. There can't be.

The ferry that brought me joy in my childhood is now the transport to care for my parents. Crossing the Salish Sea, I find a fleeting moment of transition — moving from mother, wife, friend to daughter. On the ferry, I can take a breath and prepare for what is awaiting me.

There is a lifecycle to caregiving. When it ends, I have lost so much that consumed me these past four years. Crossing the Salish Sea comforts me. The ferry gives me a moment to pause and reflect. To realize that as my parents walked on this ferry, so have I, and so will my children.