I’m Laura Mitchell, and my daughter Emily has always slept alone in her cozy room—a wide bed, books, stuffed animals, soft nightlight. One morning, she whispered, “Mom, my bed felt really tight last night.” At first, I laughed, thinking she’d dreamed it. But the complaints kept coming: “I felt pushed. Something was taking up space.”
One night, she asked, “…Did you come into my room?”
I installed a camera. At 2 a.m., it showed why: my mother-in-law Margaret, suffering early Alzheimer’s, had quietly climbed into Emily’s bed, seeking the child she once cared for—my husband Daniel.
We explained to Emily, moved her to the guest room, and created new routines to protect both her sleep and Margaret’s dignity. Slowly, our home transformed from independent routines into a compassionate, interconnected family. Emily learned that true strength is caring for those who can no longer care for themselves.