by Alexandra Axel
Two nights ago, I sat around a table with eight others, all at least 25 years my senior, discussing caregiving.
Death, disease, aging, disability, caregiving—these had touched every single one of us. But I was slow to realize how caregiving has touched my present life (besides, obviously, the work I do here).
And then it hit me. Almost every one I know is a caregiver, or a caregiver-to-be.
The kind of care I see might be very different than the kind of care you associate with “caregiving.” After all, I’m talking about 18 to 28 year olds, living in New York City. But if you heard a little of their lives and struggles, there is no doubt that they are caregivers in their own right.