Short answer: You control your own actions: what you say, what you set up, what you ask for, and when you step back. You do not control your parent’s illness, their choices, or how other people respond. Sort each problem into those two piles, then put your effort into the first one. It does not mean doing less. It means aiming better.
You moved the walker beside her chair this morning, and again after lunch, and again after her nap. At 3:15 she stands up, steps around it, and crosses the room with one hand on the back of the couch to reach the remote. “I am fine,” she says. “Stop hovering.”
You are already halfway out of your seat with your arms out.
What can I actually control as a caregiver?
Epictetus was born into slavery in the Roman world, and after he was freed he taught philosophy in Greece. He built his whole teaching on one idea: some things are up to you, and some are not.
“Of things some are in our power, and others are not. In our power are opinion, movement toward a thing, desire, aversion (turning from a thing); and in a word, whatever are our own acts.”
Epictetus, Enchiridion, Chapter 1 (George Long translation)
In plain words: your own choices, words, and effort are up to you. Other people’s choices, your parent’s body, and what anyone thinks of you are not.
Why this hits differently when you are a caregiver
For most people, this idea is a calming reminder. For you, the line between “mine” and “not mine” is blurry, and the stakes make it worse.
You really can influence a lot. You can set up the house, call the doctor, fight the insurance denial, move the walker. So it is easy to slide from “I can influence this” into “this is my job to make turn out right.” That is where the trouble starts. Then every fall is your failure, and every refusal is something you should have prevented.
But look at what is not in your hands. Her diagnosis. How fast it moves. Whether she agrees to the walker. Whether your sister answers the group text. How long the insurance company takes. You can affect each of these around the edges. You cannot control them.
There is also a trap on the other side. “I can’t control it” can sound like giving up. That is not what Epictetus meant. Your part is often large. It is just not the whole thing.
Here is the clearest way to think about it. If your mother has her full judgment, the walker is her decision, even when it scares you. Your part is to make the safe choice the easy one, and to tell her honestly why it matters to you.
If memory loss is changing her judgment, your part may be bigger and look different. The principle is the same: find the part that is truly yours, and do it fully.
One thing you can do today
Pick one problem that has been taking up space in your head. The walker, your sister’s silence, the insurance denial. Take an index card and write three sentences.
First: “I cannot control…” Be exact. Not “her health.” Something like “whether she chooses to use the walker.”
Second: “What I can do is…” Put in everything you can think of. “Move the walker where she stands up. Take the throw rug out of the path. Put the remote within reach of her chair. Tell her once, calmly, why it matters to me.”
Third: “By Friday I will…” Choose one action small enough to finish in ten minutes. Then do it today if you can.
When it gets hard, the worry will pull you back to the first line: “But what if she falls?” Do not argue with it. Add a fourth line to the card: “If it happens, I will…” and write the actual steps. Who you call, what you do first, where the numbers are. A worry with a plan attached has somewhere to go.
When you catch yourself pushing against something that is not yours, read the first sentence again.
Sit with this
Where in your caregiving are you spending the most effort on something that was never yours to decide?
Going deeper with this lesson
The three-sentence card is one of four practical tools in this lesson. The book gives you the other three, plus a full written reflection, a journaling prompt, and a worksheet page you can fill out and keep.
