Phyllis and her mother stood beside her father, Dino, as he breathed his last. Holding his hand tightly, Phyllis witnessed the departure of her witty, wise, and loving father from this world.

Dino’s passing in 2011 marked a profound turning point in Phyllis’s life, one that she hadn’t foreseen. The impact was both unexpected and life-altering. Source: Supplied

Phyllis vividly recalls focusing on the pulse in her father’s neck; as long as his heart continued to beat, he was still with them.

I remember staring at the pulse in his neck; as long as I could see his heart beating, Daddy was still alive.

My Daddy was gone too. And we were devastated.

The ever-increasing role of caregiving

Mum was ‘happy’ to ride the grief roller-coaster by herself.

My father was also Mum’s interpreter when her limited English faltered.

Phyllis with her mother, Barbara. Source: Supplied

At the same time, my boys are getting older — and I find they need me more than ever.

As they become men, I can’t take my eyes off the ball. I need to be present, and there are often important and sometimes difficult conversations we need to have.

When boundaries and love co-exist

Still with me?

Boundaries are vital, because drowning in the soup, desperate for a chunk of her own time, is me.

Phyllis (left) has learned that the only way she can effectively care for her two teenage sons and elderly mother is by caring for herself, which means setting strict boundaries. Source: Supplied

Last year, I wrote and performed in my first one-woman show in 20 years — A Little Bit of Lip — at the Sydney Fringe Festival. It was a series of monologues based on ‘my daily struggle as a peri-menopausal co-parent of teen boys and caregiver for my wisecracking mother’.

In fact, it makes our love for each other more resolute.