STILL HIS DAUGHTER

His story. My heart. Our journey. ♡

Alzheimer’s changed our lives. It changed what I had to do, what I had to learn, and the decisions I suddenly found myself making.

But it never changed one very important thing.

I was still his daughter.

BEFORE THERE WAS THE CAREGIVER, THERE WAS THE FAMILY.

Before there were appointments and paperwork, medications and safety plans, there was just us.

There was Mom. There was Dad. There was me, and there was my son, Tanner — the highlight of both their lives. The boy my Dad always wanted, and the one who brought my Mom and me closer together.

There was a lifetime of ordinary family moments, the kind you don't realize you'll treasure until later. Dad loved teaching, and some of the things he knew best — how things worked, how to fix things, how to figure things out — became part of what he passed down to us.

Dementia had already found its way into our story through Mom. After a traumatic brain injury, she lived with dementia for about ten years. Her journey was different from Dad’s, and dementia was not what took her from us. But watching those changes taught me something I wouldn't fully understand until later: the person you love is still there, even when parts of their mind begin to change.

After we lost Mom in 2020, Alzheimer’s came for Dad.

And suddenly, after a lifetime of learning from Dad, I was learning how to care for him in a completely different way.

But underneath all the appointments, decisions, phone calls, and hard days, we were still family.

And I was still his daughter.

Dad lost his battle with Alzheimer’s Disease on August 28th, 2026.

A man and woman dressed in wedding attire, with the woman wearing glasses and a veil, appears in a portrait against a plain background.
A multi-generational family gathering sitting on a brown couch with holiday decorations in the background, including a small snowman and a golden trophy.
A multi-generational family gathering sitting on a brown couch with holiday decorations in the background, including a small snowman and a golden trophy.
Three people sitting in a restaurant booth, smiling and taking a selfie, with a window showing trees in the background.
Three people sitting in a restaurant booth, smiling and taking a selfie, with a window showing trees in the background.
A smiling woman with short curly brown hair wearing large glasses and a colorful plaid shirt, sitting next to a smiling man with dark hair, glasses, and a white collared shirt.
Two people, an elderly man and a woman, sitting on chairs on a boat deck during sunset, with water and trees in the background.
Two people, an elderly man and a woman, sitting on chairs on a boat deck during sunset, with water and trees in the background.

WHAT I LEARNED.

WHAT I WISH I’D KNOWN.

WHAT I WANT TO SHARE.

Caregiving taught me things I never expected to have to learn.

About Alzheimer’s. About navigating the health care system, legal and financial issues, planning ahead, safety, paperwork, difficult decisions, grief, guilt, and giving myself a little grace.

I learned many of those lessons the hard way.

These books are my way of turning those hard-earned lessons into something that might make someone else’s journey a little easier.

Cover of a guide titled "Still His Daughter: He's Still In There" featuring a woman and an older man, with decorative leaves and hearts, for dementia caregiver support.

THE ALZHEIMER’S JOURNEY

Caregiver Starter Journal

A place to breathe, prepare, document, and remember.

Caregiving can leave you feeling like you’re constantly reacting to whatever comes next.

This 90-day starter journal was created to give you a place to slow down, keep track

of what matters, and take care of yourself along the way.

Created from my own experience caring for my Dad through Alzheimer’s, it

brings together the things I learned, the things I wish I had known sooner, and

the reminders I needed on the hard days.

Inside you'll find:

  • 90 daily reflection pages with guided prompts

  • 13 weekly caregiver check-ins

  • Self-care tracking to help you notice how you are doing

  • Space for grief and gratitude

  • Prompts for the things that are often difficult to say out loud

  • Permission slips for caregiver guilt

  • Space to document the moments you don't want to forget

  • A support contacts page

  • Practical reminders to help you breathe, prepare, document, and remember

Whether you're just beginning to navigate an Alzheimer's diagnosis or you've already

been caregiving for a while, this is a place to put some of the things you're carrying.

You don't have to have everything figured out.

You just need a place to start.

Cover of a caregiver starter journal titled "The Alzheimer's Journey," featuring a scenic lakeside path with trees and a fence, and decorative leaves around the edges.