It was rough. For her last 2 years I went home to care for Mom a week at a time every month. I wanted to give my sister a break from her usual care. She was local, and so bore the burden of every day care. I tried to help out as much as I could from 900 miles away. I called Mom every day. She forgot who I was, but every now and again, she would remember that I was her daughter. I wouldn’t trade those rough times for anything in the world though. My Mom was a living saint. Miss her.
As a man, it didn't come naturally...in fact, it was hard as hell. But I am so glad I did it.