This story is based on an interview with Shifali Erasmus, 46, a vice-president at a PR agency, from the San Francisco Bay Area. It has been edited for length and clarity.
I’m a single mom and live with my teenage sons in an apartment, 20 miles from the home my parents had owned for 40 years.
It’s a different setup from when I was a child, when there were around 12 family members living on the same property. My mom’s brother, two sisters, and their kids were part of our household.
The arrangement is pretty common in Indian culture, with each generation having different responsibilities.
When my already ailing dad, 81, had a bad fall and required spinal surgery in February 2026, I wondered whether we could buy a big house for me, Mom, and the boys to share.
It felt like the right thing to do because Dad, a former neurosurgeon, had been in poor health since 2023, with very high blood pressure and diabetes. He had poor mobility and acute kidney failure due to long COVID and needed dialysis three times a week.
Dad was in a rehab facility
Meanwhile, my mom, a retired OBGYN, was relatively healthy for her age of 82, but suffered from hypertension. Their house had 12 steps to get inside, and there was no way they could stay where they were.
My older sister flew to the Bay Area from her home in Wisconsin after Dad’s fall. He was in a rehab facility, and it gave us a buffer so we could make some hard decisions.
In an ideal world, the kids, their grandparents, and I would have gotten a place together. I would be the primary caregiver to all four.
It was like being inside a pressure cooker
I soon realized living together would only be a fantasy. How could I cope as a single mom and VP of a company? It simply wasn’t practical, affordable, or sustainable for me to take on that role.
I remembered the time in January when Dad was in the ER with fistula complications, and Mom had been admitted at the same time for feeling unwell.
I had my work computer in my bag and was running from one of their rooms to the other. I had my phone and Slack, but I couldn’t attend meetings.
Luckily, my boss was very understanding — it’s a “family first” business — but I felt like I was inside a pressure cooker. I didn’t want to let my colleagues down, but I also wanted to show up for my parents.
I needed to ask one of my friends to pick up the kids, too.
The experience gave me insight into the future we’d face if I’d tried to do it all, even if I had been able to handle the physical aspects of caring, like lifting someone.
I feared Mom and Dad would be trapped in an endless cycle of being in and out of the hospital, with me struggling to cope with making their meals, showering them, and taking them to doctor appointments.
It would be impossible to provide full-time care for both my children and parents without quitting the job that kept us financially afloat.
They have wine-and-cheese mixers
So, forced to change tack, we toured nearby senior living facilities for my dad. We eventually chose one with a nice apartment with a little kitchen, less than a 10-minute drive from my home. It costs $10,000 a month out of my dad’s savings.
It has 24/7 nursing care, all meals are included, and they transport him to dialysis or wherever he wants to go within a 10-mile radius. They even host events like wine-and-cheese mixers.
Dad is doing great. We were able to transfer some of his primary care to a doctor and nurse practitioner who come monthly and weekly, respectively.
The staff also manages his medication, monitors his blood sugar levels, and gives him an extra dose if needed. He’s improving leaps and bounds.
My parents sold our childhood home, and Mom now lives in a small place of her own. People are asking if Dad will come join her, but unfortunately, it’s not feasible.
It’s a difficult balance to hold
Of course, I feel terribly guilty, particularly because of my heritage of joint family living. I feel like I am bucking the tradition.
A woman’s identity is challenged by every layer of role she chooses to take on. They come with labels of responsibility, such as mother, daughter, worker, wife, and partner.
Then you have your own self that you don’t want to abandon. It’s a tightrope to walk, but I’m doing the best I can to stay upright.
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