Put that cheese burger down

When I moved to Germany, I thought the biggest challenge would be learning a new language or adapting to a different culture.

I was wrong.

The real test has been learning how to care for my aging mother from thousands of kilometers away — trying to balance two lives, two time zones, and one constant worry that never really fades.

In 2022, my father passed away. Losing him changed everything. The silence that followed felt heavier than grief itself. My mother’s world shifted overnight, and so did mine. As the older child, I’ve always been the one who steps in when things need to get done. It’s not something anyone taught me; it just became part of who I am. That sense of responsibility still shapes every decision I make — from managing my mother’s care to keeping our family steady from a distance.

My mother lives in India with two full-time caretakers. She has myasthenia gravis, a condition that weakens her muscles and makes everyday life unpredictable. Some mornings she sounds cheerful on our video calls, and other days even speaking feels like too much. I handle everything remotely: coordinating doctor visits, managing her medicines, checking her vitals, and trying to make sure the people around her are doing their jobs with care.

Long-distance caregiving is a strange kind of routine. My mornings often begin with WhatsApp updates from home — oxygen readings, meal notes, and the quiet reassurance that things are under control. Between work meetings here in Germany, I’m constantly switching roles: professional, daughter, problem-solver, emotional anchor. It’s like living two lives at once.

There’s guilt, of course. The kind that lingers even when you know you’re doing your best. The guilt of not being there physically, of missing small moments, of relying on others to do what you wish you could. It wears you down in quiet ways — through sleepless nights, mental exhaustion, and that constant thought, am I doing enough?

But caregiving from afar has also taught me what love really looks like. It’s not about being there every day; it’s about showing up in every way you can. It’s about being consistent, reliable, and present even through a screen. I’ve learned to find connection in small things — the calm in my mother’s voice when she says she’s fine, the trust that builds over time with her caretakers, and the peace that comes from knowing she feels safe.

Technology has become my bridge. I track her prescriptions through shared folders, schedule appointments on digital calendars, and use video calls for everything from doctor consultations to afternoon chats. I’ve learned that efficiency can also be an expression of care.

Still, the emotional toll is real. There are days when I’d give anything to just sit beside her, make her tea, or share a meal. Every visit feels precious, and every goodbye feels heavier. You begin to understand how fragile time is and how love, when stretched across continents, needs constant tending.

Caregiving has changed me. It’s made me more patient, more grounded, and more grateful for the ordinary moments. It’s taught me to slow down, to prioritize what truly matters, and to accept that even when life feels divided between two worlds, it’s still possible to stay connected through intention and love.

If you’re caring for a parent from abroad, here are a few things I’ve learned along the way:

• Build a support system. Find local helpers, family friends, or neighbors who can step in when you can’t.
• Use technology wisely. Shared folders, group chats, and telehealth tools can make a big difference.
• Release the guilt. Distance doesn’t mean neglect. Emotional consistency is its own kind of presence.
• Take care of yourself. Caregiving is not sustainable without self-care. Rest is not a luxury; it’s a necessity.
• Accept imperfection. You will make mistakes. What matters is that you keep showing up.

Caring for my mother from another country has been both the hardest and most meaningful part of my life. It’s a constant reminder that love doesn’t fade with distance — it adapts, stretches, and deepens in ways you can’t fully understand until you live it.

And I’ve learned I’m not alone in this. According to a 2023 Pew Research Center study, nearly one in four millennial’s in developed countries now provides care to an aging parent, relative, or loved one — many while living abroad or managing full-time careers. The World Health Organization estimates that over 12% of caregivers worldwide live in a different country from the person they care for. We are part of a quiet generation of global caregivers, managing spreadsheets and emotions side by side, balancing independence with duty, and redefining what family support looks like across borders.

If you’re one of them, take heart. You are doing more than enough. You are proof that love can travel across oceans, survive time zones, and endure through screens. You are living a kind of strength that isn’t always visible — but is deeply, profoundly human.

If this resonates with you, share your story. Talk about your challenges and your victories. Every voice matters — and together, we can make caregiving less lonely, more supported and better understood.