Things in Erin’s Head 


Today, dear reader, I have a short story for you. A dream of sorts… or maybe an intuition… or a vision… or insight based on all the Caregiving experiences I’ve lived and stories I’ve heard… but I think it might speak to you. And if you’re not in the mood for reading, hop on down to the bottom to click the link to the site of my all new program. Maybe share it with a friend. I feel like it’s going to change the Caregiving game. 

Enjoy the tale…



Jenna dragged her aching body to bed. Trying to calm her mind for sleep, she stared at the ceiling wondering why she wasn’t handling this Caregiving situation better. Her brain filtered through the tasks she had completed and she cringed with shame remembering the dirty laundry pile – she had no clean underwear for tomorrow… Her eyes squeezed a little tighter in embarrassment as she remembered walking out of a business lunch and leaving her left purse behind. Who leaves their purse?  Tears began to flow and she turned on her side and cried herself silently to sleep. 

As her sleep deepened, Jenna began to dream. She found herself vividly on the side of a mountain, all geared up with ropes, a backpack, and solid hiking boots. She found it curious being on the mountain, because she was inherently afraid of heights. But the dream version of her climbed with ease, hands and feet finding all of the right ledges and rocks to slip into and rise. She felt like she could manage the climb. Sure, it was new, but she could do it. How hard could it be?

As she scaled higher, she began to pass abstract objects on the mountain: The pill box she filled every week for her husband, a toy car that looked just like the reliable sedan she used to drive him to appointments, and she put each of them in her pack. She passed an old rotary phone representative of the heavy calls made to family and friends with updates on her husband’s health, and she put it in her pack. With every item she added, every “other duty as assigned,” the pack got heavier and her thighs quivered under its weight. She could smell the salty sweat on her body. With the next step, her boot missed its footing and pebbles shimmied down the side of the mountain, making her feel unstable and she started to question her choices. Her hand stretched out for the next rock, but it turned to sand under her grasp. A boom of thunder filled the dream and she felt herself being pelted, not with hail, but with paper – medical bills and insurance statements and she felt completely lost. 

In a nanosecond she began to fall. She didn’t know which item was the one that made the pack too heavy to bear, but she was being pulled backward and she plummeted toward an unknown darkness. In the moment right before she woke, Jenna felt a jolt. In her dream she had stopped falling. She was suspended, mid-air. The sun was tugging Jenna awake, back to reality, but she fought to stay in the dream, to see what had saved her.

Her dream-self caught a glimpse of something shinny – an orange sparkle. It was a carabiner. A little metal, spring-loaded D-clip, securing her to her ropes and the ropes to the mountain. She barely knew it was there. It had allowed her to climb freely when it felt easy, but as she fell, it connected her to her safety-critical systems and stopped her fall. What saved her, was The Carabiner. 


Because it’s all about love…



A program created to soften the Caregiving journey with tools, resources, and gentle guidance that support both a Caregiver’s active journey and their recovery, in an honest and playful way.

Beginning May 2024