Enough.

The meaning of that word seems to be indescribable and abstract, yet often described to us by society. How much is enough? And what does it mean to truly be enough? Who decides something like that?

We do. You do. Every single day, you define that word.

It seems to be the case that we are always drowning—trying to do enough, trying to be enough. Endlessly trying to fulfill the criteria for this one word.

Someone can tell you that you’re enough, but you have to be the one to believe that.

My mom recently told me that she “hadn’t done enough”. She was referring to my grandma, abuela as we lovingly name our grandparents in my culture. Throughout my abuela’s eleven-year battle with dementia, my mom was there for all of it. Yet, it wasn’t enough. Four and a half years ago, as a result of the progression of my grandma’s disease, my family decided that she could no longer live on her own. Do you know what my mom did? She said, “she’s going to live here, with us.” It wasn’t really a question for any of us. We simply knew that we had a responsibility to take care of her in her old age. Thankfully, it wasn’t just us. My two older and busy aunts willingly took care of my abuela on the weekends throughout the four and a half years as well.

At home, abuela received everything she needed and more. I swear she lived better than anyone I knew. She always ate delicious meals, we bought her strawberry-kiwi Snapple to drink, she always had new fuzzy socks, nightgowns, and fleece blankets. She was bathed everyday and her hair was always done. The woman even had Dolce & Gabana perfume. Aside from her cognitive state, she lived like a queen. She was always treated with the love, dignity, and respect that she deserved.

Recently, my grandmother was placed into hospice and we were able to care for her at home. Just about two weeks ago, she passed away in my home, where she had spent the last few years. In the midst of family, she slipped away into her final state of rest.

In the wake of all of this, my mom recently looked at me and said: “I didn’t do enough”. I honestly couldn’t figure out what she was talking about until she said that she didn’t care for my grandma enough. I was shocked, overwhelmed even. The woman who dedicated over twelve years of her life to the care of elderly parents with Alzheimer’s and dementia hadn’t done enough. It was absurd.

I was furious. How could she possibly say something like that?

The feeling of fury was fleeting—I quickly realized what it was. We never think that we have done enough…after all; there is always something else we could have done. I assured her that there was no reason to feel this way—even though we always feel as if we need to do more, she had surely done more than enough.

I want the moms and dads, sisters and brothers, uncles and aunts, cousins and grandparents, and neighbors and friends to realize that we decide what’s enough; it’s purely our own decision. Despite what other people or society might have you believe, the power resides within you.