Emily Paine Carter

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"Mommy, I'm sick. Will you come rub my feet?" daughter Caroline moaned into the phone.

"Oh, dear!" I sighed. I wanted to burst through her door, my massaging paws ready -- and bearing famously therapeutic Brooks-Byrd orangeades.

Such "mothering" kindnesses are frequently shared among moms, daughters and grandmothers. (Guys tend to help with fix-it/mow-it tasks.)

Alas, Caroline's little family is no longer two blocks away, but 2,000 danged miles. (Yes, I'll pout until my precious grandkids return home.)

And, vice versa: distant, aging parents can weigh on one's conscience and heart. Some friends seem forever on the road -- not in a fun, Jack Kerouac-sense, but in a traveling-nurse way.

"We're at 'that age,' " my sister baby boomers opine. Many are "sandwiched," caring for two generations. "Club" sandwiches, even, with another layer of responsibility: baby-sitting grandchildren.

You probably have many examples. I remember ("Big") Ann Patrick's mother, who lived with Ann's family in Salem until she died at 100-something. Now "Big Ann" lives with daughter "Little Ann" in Richmond.

More recently, Betty Boothe, 57, stopped substitute teaching to bring her mom, Louise Nance, into her and Ron's Salem home. She said she loved having her there for three years, but now appreciates the "good atmosphere, with Mom's own furnishings" in an Our Lady of the Valley assisted living apartment. She sees her "feisty" mom (age "a secret") about twice a week, talks to her nightly, "and [our daughters] Beth and Tricia are also good to visit her -- bringing milkshakes. She pushes to keep going, and is in [Our Lady's] traveling choir!"

Salemite Carol Buriak's parents, Bruce, 82, and Marjorie Barger, 78, had been happily retired in Florida "until Mom's early dementia/Alzheimer's -- just semantics! -- diagnosis six years ago," said Carol.

(I have at least 10 other friends whose parents have Alzheimer's; one has tended her otherwise-healthy mother for 10 years.)

"It seemed smart to move them here, so December 2003 we did. Now Dad is also slipping," Carol said.

In January she quit subbing, turned down a full-time teaching job and pared down her once-extensive volunteer work. Carol became the caregiver: Handling their paperwork and doctor appointments; washing clothes and dishes; helping with baths; finding puzzles, photos or a household task to engage her mom.

But arriving at their house by 7:30 a.m. was "killing" Carol, 51, so now she sends kids Laura, 14, and Jimmy, 17, off to school, works out, then stays from 9:30 a.m. to 3ish or longer if needed.

Soon she and husband Jim (a Roanoke College teacher and athletic trainer) will take students to Greece for a popular ancient Olympics study program. "It will refresh me before my folks' big move" in June or July to The Glebe in Daleville. "Luckily, they can go as a couple. And I'll visit daily. I also promised I'd keep Mom's stuff at my house for her to visit."

Carol said her mom was a talented artist. Betty's mom was a preacher, teacher and author of four books. Another friend said her mother once was "a force of nature."

Now it's so very hard to watch such once-fierce warriors -- our beloved, doting parents -- fade.

Here's a Mother's Day curtsy to all caregivers. Now, go; hug your mom. You could even bring her a Brooks-Byrd orangeade.