In September 2025, I spent five weeks in South Africa with my mom, who was then 83 and had been living with Parkinson’s for 13 years. It was a visit filled with both tenderness and challenge. There were moments of deep love, and others of helplessness, frustration, and fatigue.

Challenges

One of the hardest days was Mom’s birthday, the 17th of September. I had planned to take her out to lunch and make it a light, joyful day. She absolutely loves a place called ‘The Waffle House’, close to her Retirement Village.

But Parkinson’s had other plans. Her symptoms were difficult that day, and she wasn’t well enough to go anywhere. I tried everything I could to lift her spirits — fetching her favourite meal from the Waffle House, buying flowers and a special gift from my siblings and I… and still it was so very hard not to be able to take away all her distress and suffering.

Another challenge was the constant change of carers.

Three lovely women rotate, but a new one had just started, and Mom was terrified she might be unkind, or treat her impatiently. Mom is so sensitive to harsh tones or grumpiness and is afraid of conflict. Instead of speaking up about her needs, she tends to withdraw. I’m pretty sure she’s an HSP too, experiencing life and its challenges very deeply.

One night, she was truly scared, in tears of fear…. and I could feel her lifelong, ingrained fears squeezing her whole being. Her fears affected me, too, as an HSP and someone with the Empathy talent (CliftonStrengths).

I wished I could take all her fear away, yet some things we simply can’t fix for those we love.

The other Side of the Coin

And yet, amid the many challenges, there were moments of tender beauty and grace.

Like the day we both burst out laughing when a balloon she tried to blow up exploded right in her face…. First the shock, followed by belly laughter — all of which released days of tension for both of us.

Or the evenings we spent reading a little spiritual piece together after she’d been tucked into bed. Those few minutes were tender, calm, and deeply connecting.

On my last day, we agreed that there would be no more tasks (they were relentless); only time together. I sat with my crochet project, while Mom worked on a pair of trousers… just sitting side by side peacefully. It felt like the old days (when life was simpler) and quietly joyful.

My Learnings

I was reminded of a few things through this visit:

I am strong enough to face the hard days yet I sometimes need help. And it’s better to ask sooner than later.

Time alone and walks by the sea are non-negotiable for my well-being.

I learned (yet again) that my limits are real and I need to listen to them before I reach my breaking point.

Also, again, I experienced that EFT tapping, especially with a skilled person, helps me return to calm when I feel stretched so thin that I want to scream.

I tapped by myself most days, and sometimes it was more effective than others. The last Sunday morning of my stay, I sat in the car at the beach at 8 am to tap with a very skilled colleague, because there was no privacy anywhere else. It was an absolute lifesaver!

Caring for someone we love can open our hearts and also stretch them. It’s a tender and tricky dance between love, limits, and letting go.

Perhaps you, too, are walking that line of giving deeply while learning how to refill your own cup.

If so, I hope you’ll pause today to take a breath, feel your strength, and remember that your care matters — including the care you give yourself.