She’s been home for about four or five days now.
The weekend
Tuesday, we attended Joey’s mom’s funeral
Wednesday was our stay-at-home day
By Thursday, I could feel the restlessness
starting to creep in — that quiet, uneasy energy that often shows up when there’s too much
stillness and not enough stimulation.
As her daughter and caregiver, I try not to let days at home pile up without purpose.
I’ve learned that structure, gentle movement, and a little adventure go a long way in keeping her mind and spirit engaged.
So today, we chose a walk in the forest.
Not just for exercise.
Not just for fresh air.
But for something deeper — healing.
There’s a quiet kind of magic in the trees. The filtered sunlight, the call of the birds, the steady rhythm of our steps. It calms the nervous system — hers and mine.
It soothes without asking for anything in return. No fancy tools. No medications. Just presence.
We weren’t out there training for Everest — just walking slowly, one step at a time, reconnecting with breath, with earth, with each other.
Why do I take her into the forest?
Because nature heals.
Because movement matters.
Because joy doesn’t always come in a bottle or from a screen.
These forest walks support her wellness by:
Stimulating her brain through sights, sounds, and motion
Helping to reduce anxiety and agitation
Offering natural rhythm and deep breathing
Giving us time to bond — and giving her something to anticipate
Every step is a small act of hope — a reminder that healing isn’t always in hospitals or prescriptions. 
Sometimes, it’s right here, under the canopy of trees, in the space between conversation and silence.
But let me be honest — she didn’t exactly leap at the idea.
Angela: “Why you always want to go into the bush?”
Angela: “It’s scary.”
Angela: “I’m not a mountain man — I don’t know what I’m doing.”
Me: “Well… do you want to stay home alone?”
Angela: “NO.”
Me: “Alright then, shoes on. Let’s go.”
That’s the rhythm of caregiving: a dance between resistance and trust, challenge and connection.
And sometimes, all it takes is showing up — for each other, for our own peace of mind, and for the kind of life we want our parents to still enjoy.
Because quality of life doesn’t end with diagnosis or age.
It evolves — step by step, hand in hand.
#Leadership#Inclusion#Angela’s story
#HikingForHealing#MentalHealthMatters#aFamilyHealing#ForestTherapy#WalkingWithLove#CaregiverJourney#MCH
