For 3 1/2 years, I lived in Phoenix while my dad took care of my mom. It was just as stressful as living here with them. Maybe more so. I talked to them every Wednesday and Saturday for those years. I never made plans on those days, because I didn't want to miss their call. I often wondered if something happened to my dad, would my mom's caregiver call me? Would she just keep taking care of mom and not let me know. I was a nervous wreck if dad was 3 minutes late calling. I gave him 15 minutes one time and about had a panic attack before I called him. In all realty, I am surprised that I didn't have a heart attack or stroke myself. I am really surprised that I never got an ulcer from worrying so much. I felt so empty and alone during that time. My husband tried to help, but he didn't know how. I didn't want to leave my job. I was making great money and we had the "perfect" life. Now, looking back, I don't know if I made a mistake coming here or not. I don't know if I was right to wait all that time to come here. I get confused when I think about all that.
I guess the finally descision in us moving here was, I had started drinking heavily and our marriage was falling apart. Most of it was due to my not being here with my mom. It was the only thing we thought we could do to save our marriage and me.
My husband made the decision. I told him I wouldn't. I didn't want to hear everyday how unhappy he was by moving here and feel guilty all the time that we did. We both wanted a change. It was more change than we wanted, but that is another entry.