When Caregiving Becomes the Nation’s Blind Spot

A Holiday Reflection Inspired by Senator Kim’s First Speech

This week, newly elected Senator Andy Kim from New Jersey stepped onto the Senate floor for the first time—and instead of policy talking points, he spoke about the personal and financial cost of caregiving. It landed like truth ringing across a chamber that rarely hears it.

For families like ours, caregiving isn’t theoretical.
It is lived in the bones.

For decades, we have written about this reality—especially for older parents, families supporting medically fragile children, and young adults navigating the murky waters of adult services. I’ve written about the quiet, relentless work of filling in where paid caregivers can’t, won’t, or aren’t available because the workforce has evaporated. Families step in because someone has to.  Because we want what is best for our family members–a meaningful life in their communities of choice.

And now, as Medicaid and waiver cuts ripple through states, the floor is once again shifting under people already shaken and stressed.

These cuts aren’t numbers.
They are hours lost, supports reduced, and futures narrowed.

And now, with proposed caps on how many hours a family caregiver can bill, thousands of households are facing something close to a Sophie’s Choice:

  • Keep a roof over your head by getting a second job
    or
  • Stay home to provide the essential care your loved one needs—and risk losing income so vital that your family’s survival becomes uncertain.

We don’t use this phrase lightly:
A second job may mean inadequate care, real medical risk, and outcomes no politician would ever accept for their own family.

This is the impossible math caregivers are being asked to solve.

An Invitation to Those Not Living This Life (Yet)

If caregiving isn’t part of your daily world, December might look like shopping lists, family gatherings, or winter travel. For many caregivers, December looks like reorganizing life around another support hour cut, scrambling to fill open shifts, and figuring out how to stay awake long enough to do it all again tomorrow.

If that’s not your life, you can still help lighten someone else’s load.

This Christmas season, you can offer:

  • A hug that lingers long enough to say, “I see the weight you’re carrying.”
  • A bag of groceries when the budget is stretched to breaking.
  • A cup of coffee is handed to someone who hasn’t had a moment for themselves in weeks.
  • A place in your community, even when their schedule or stress makes showing up hard.
  • A message to your legislators that families deserve more than policy experiments—they deserve stability.

Caregivers rarely ask for help.
But they usually feel better when someone shows up.

Love Is the Reason — But Love Alone Is Not Enough

Families step up because love leaves us no other choice. But love alone cannot compensate for a system that is fragmenting before our eyes—especially when caregivers are punished financially for doing the very work that keeps their loved ones alive and thriving.

Senator Kim’s speech was a reminder that caregiving is not a side story in American life.
It is the foundation that keeps millions of families afloat.

And Then There’s the Larger Truth

Our country has long struggled—and continues to struggle—to build a long-term care system that is not institutional at its core. Despite decades of evidence, America still drifts toward solutions rooted in facilities, not freedom.

But we know the truth:
People thrive in their own homes.
They flourish in their communities.
They do better when they are surrounded by connection, familiarity, and dignity—not fluorescent lights and long hallways.

This season, let’s remember that caregiving is not just an act of love.
It is a national responsibility, a community commitment, and a moral compass pointing us toward the kind of country we say we want to be.

Because change begins when someone reaches out, looks a caregiver in the eyes, and says:

“You shouldn’t have to carry this alone.”

Our Holiday Reminder

Caregivers are the quiet fascia of America, the unseen network making it possible for the rest of the country to work, grow, and prosper. Yet the disparities they face grow by the year. This season, may we remember that a powerful nation is held together by care, not commerce alone.