My father, a strong and independent man, was diagnosed with an abdominal aortic aneurysm requiring surgical repair. What followed was a prolonged recovery marked by strokes and eventually dementia, leading to a critical need for constant care and supervision. Despite my prior experience as a caregiver, my most recent work in finance, specifically Retiree Investment Services, had really not prepared me for the profound challenges our family would face.

His concern, even amidst his own diagnosis, was always for my mother. He wanted to ensure her well-being above all else, which I believe led him to ask me to be his healthcare proxy. After his surgery, a two-week hospital stay followed by a stint in rehab., he returned home significantly weakened. Activities we often take for granted—like getting up from a chair, showering, or using the bathroom—now required assistance. This experience highlighted the immense challenge of maintaining a loved one's dignity and privacy while providing intimate care.

It was during this time that the true meaning of respect became clear to me. I had to get creative, using simple strategies like having a towel ready when he needed to use the bathroom, to cover his privates, talkiing about things I knew he was passionate about as a way of distracting him was another tactic. Yet, I knew, in spite of his love for family, and the Boston Celtics, there had to be a more effective and dignified approach.

Caring for my father revealed how deeply personal daily routines are. Tasks like getting out of bed, fetching a drink of water, or going to the store for necessities are integral to an individual's autonomy. After his surgery, even these small details became part of our family's shared routine, demanding more time and effort than any of us had anticipated. My father, a truly generous man who would never hesitate to help others, found it incredibly difficult to accept help himself.

While professional assistance might have eased some burdens, I believe he still would have resisted. Recently, my daughter, who is also a caregiver, shared an insight that resonated deeply: "It is just semantics, but sometimes changing the way you say something can really make the difference. For example, instead of saying 'no problem,' saying 'it's my pleasure' seems to have a better reception." Her words underscored the importance of genuine compassion in caregiving. Our family provided what we could, but as his condition progressed, we recognized the need for a dedicated team specializing in family-centered care—a resource that simply didn't exist at the time.

My father, who has since passed, became the inspiration for Searchlight Senior Services. I keep a picture of him on the wall next to my desk. Honoring his memory drives my commitment to providing the highest quality care to the seniors we are privileged to assist, which I consider a true blessing. Knowing his generosity and thoughtfulness, it is truly "my pleasure" to offer this support, I only hope my father would feel proud to know his legacy.

How it began…