Happy Fall, what a beautiful time of year. This year has been especially challenging for me. It got me thinking about how we move forward with grief and loss. How do we return to work? How do our colleagues, friends, and family respond? What will our employer think? Will I be given some grace at work? This conversation is directed to anyone who has experienced a loss, and especially for those folks who are managing employees. At the end of the day, we are all human beings. I would love to know your thoughts. If you know anyone who would benefit from our community, please share this information with them.💕 https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/caregiver-brief-fall-2025-kelli-bradley-szrcc/

Most of us don't prepare to be caregivers. We're simply living life—until a phone call, a diagnosis, or a hospital stay flips everything upside down. A dear friend has been battling some health issues since March. At first, it was diagnosed as a pesky tumor that needed to be removed and watched. No harm, no foul, but fast forward to August, and the pain returned with a diagnosis of cancer. Twelve days later, she was gone. My heart, along with many others, is broken. Why should someone be taken so early, so young, so full of life? It makes no sense, and I know many of you have been in this same position. My friend came home with grief, fear of what was next, and a brochure in her hands. Hospice services were arranged, but I don't think she was prepared to see a hospital bed, walker, wheelchair, potty chair—all at once. Her safe space became unrecognizable. Her friends wanted to help but had no roadmap. This is what unexpected caregiving feels like: overwhelming, messy, lonely. But this is why It's Called Life exists. Because here, you don't have to figure it out alone. I know we are just getting started, but please share this space with one person. That is how we build one person at a time. There are 63 million unpaid caregivers who need support. Let's be that lifeline! 💬 What was the most challenging part when caregiving first landed in your lap? Or, if you're in it now, what's one thing you wish others understood about what you're carrying? Your story could be the lifeline another member needs today. Alive, a little undone, and still devoted, Kelli💕

Life doesn’t play fair. This year has been heavy. I’ve said goodbye to one dear friend and watched another face a heartbreaking diagnosis. It’s reminded me—again—that caregiving, illness, and grief don’t follow rules. They come suddenly, they turn life upside down, and sometimes there are no answers. No cure. No clear way forward. And in those moments, I’m struck by two truths:💔 Grief often begins long before goodbye.💔 The only thing that makes it bearable is not having to carry it alone. To anyone walking through the unimaginable right now: your heartbreak matters. Your strength is seen. And your fear, exhaustion, and love are all valid. This is why I created It’s Called Life. Because while we can’t stop the storms, we can stand beside one another and whisper, “You’re not alone.” Please share this community with anyone who might need a little extra support. Alive. A little undone. Still devoted. — The Devoted Daughter

"But she's all alone. There's no one else." I've heard this so many times—from families, and myself. It's one of the most brutal truths about caregiving. Because you want to help.Because you care. But you're only human. What starts as a few errands, meals, or check-ins quickly becomes being the caregiver because it feels easier to say yes than to have the complicated conversation about limits. Because someone has to. But boundaries aren't selfish. They're necessary. Because caregiving without boundaries leads to burnout, resentment, and guilt that no one deserves to carry. What can help when you're feeling the weight of it all? ✅ Name what you're doing—it's caregiving .✅ Be honest about your limits .✅ Ask for help creatively—friends, neighbors, church, senior services, paid help .✅ Call the primary care doctor. Ask about resources .✅ Talk to the social worker on staff. They often know options you don't .✅ Adjust as needs change. ✅ Let go of the idea that you have to do it all alone. You're not failing because you need help. You're not selfish for protecting your well-being. You're not broken because this is hard.💕 You're becoming. 👇 Have you struggled with setting boundaries in caregiving? Share below if you'd like. — The Devoted Daughter

Caregiving conversations don't usually start with a plan. They start with a problem. We wait. We avoid. We hope the need won't grow; these conversations are hard. Here's how it usually goes: "We're managing (sort of)." A patchwork of family, friends, and neighbors. It's not ideal, but it's free. It feels "good enough." "It's getting harder." Needs change. Suddenly, it's about personal care, money, and driving. Conversations get uncomfortable. Independence is threatened. So the needle doesn't move. "We can't do this anymore." The breaking point. You have to move." "We're done." That moment is full of grief, guilt, resentment, and often sabotage. Trust breaks. We think love means avoiding the hard talks. But real love means having them. It means naming what's changing before it becomes a crisis. It means talking about the hard stuff—even when it's uncomfortable. It means planning so no one has to give ultimatums in anger or desperation. Caregiving is hard enough without also feeling blindsided and betrayed. If you're avoiding these conversations—I get it. If you're dreading them, you're not alone. If you've already had the "we're done" moment, I see you. This is caregiving It's messy. It's human. It's life. You're not failing because it's hard. You're not broken for struggling. You're becoming. — Kelli Bradley, The Devoted Daughter