Lindsey Pace, LCSW

Perhaps burnout has been a companion of yours for sometime now. You've actually gotten used to it and adjusted your life according to your limited reserves. You've surrendered to the burn so to speak. You no longer beat yourself up for not having enough energy for everyday tasks. You stopped saying yes to requests and activities because you knew that you would end up cancelling or being a no show anyways. Your friend group and support system has shrunk because in their efforts to be supportive of you they began to feel helpless and their efforts futile. You started your caregiving journey with zeal and conviction and purpose and passion but all that is gone now and you are alone, tired, and resigned to the idea that this is how its always going to be. I frequently talk with people who find themselves in this place. I try and offer hope and encouragement and care and support but it often seems to evaporate into thin air. Its almost as if the person in this situation doesn't

Well meaning parents and caregivers often try to shield children from the experience of grief and loss and for good reason. Grief and loss are acutely painful experiences. However, regardless of our best efforts to shield these innocent hearts, children are intuitive and whether they can verbalize it or not they sense when something isn't right. Rather than leave their little minds to try and make sense of what's going on around them, I argue that parents and caregivers should invite children into the experience of loss and grief so that they can encounter it with a caring adult and guide at their side.  Here are a few ways I encourage parents and caregivers to approach children about issues related to grief and loss: 1- Be open and honest and keep in mind that honesty does not mean revealing every minute detail and aspect of the situation. Simply paint an overall picture of the situation and allow the child the freedom to ask question and seek more information on their own. Le

One of my greatest privileges I’ve experienced in my professional work has been and is to be a witness to another person’s life as they near the end of their physical life. In the past 10 years of working in hospice , I’ve had many memorable patients and moving experiences. Just in the past few weeks, I have had some moments that, as they were occurring, I knew were significant. A few weeks ago, I stopped by a patient’s home to drop off a copy of her DNR form to her husband. This patient was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s Disease a few years ago and had experienced a steady decline over the past few months leading her to be eligible for hospice. I wasn’t planning to go into the home and visit with the patient and her spouse since I had already made a formal visit the week earlier and I wasn’t aware of any new issues or needs but the husband invited me in and to be polite I accepted the invitation. As soon as the door behind me closed, I heard the all too familiar sound of congested breathi