Working Daughter: A Quiet Revolution of Care and Commitment

We often hear about “working mothers,” and the devotion behind that title. But what about the daughters? The ones navigating legacy with quiet tenacity. The ones coordinating care plans between client calls, advocating for their parents while tending to their own callings and communities.

I’m a working daughter. My mother is preparing to move into a new assisted care home, and I’m organizing every part of that transition with clarity and love. I also run a professional organizing business that helps bring calm to chaotic spaces—and I specialize in photo estate management, helping others preserve their memories with intention and dignity. I guide clients through legacy planning, metadata best practices, and ethical stewardship of their visual histories. It’s not just organizing—it’s honoring.

I also own STUDIOescape, where I host workshops, classes, and retreats designed to reconnect people with their stories and sense of self. My days are full—with responsibility, creativity, movement, and meaning. I’m active in communities like The Photo Managers, Synergy for Success, NAWBO, NAPO, and now, the FOREVER Advisory Council. I advocate for ethical standards, privacy, and legacy preservation.

And I treasure the rituals that replenish me: facials, manicures, pedicures, hot stone massages. I’ve recently stepped up my health game by joining a new strength training club. My husband Pat and I carve out time for trivia date nights and daily walks—small but powerful rhythms that anchor us.

But I don’t wear “busy” as a badge of honor. In fact, I wish we could retire that word altogether. It’s too often used to signal importance, when what we really need is presence. We all have the same 24 hours. What matters is how we fill them—and how they fill us.

I prefer to say: life is full. Because that fullness holds grace, connection, even joy. As one of my favorite reminders goes, “Life gets in the way of life.” That’s not a complaint—it’s a reflection of reality, and of beauty.

We lost our beloved Caribbean (Cari) last year, and her absence is still a tender ache. She wasn’t just a dog—she was family. Her memory walks beside us.

So, to my fellow working daughters: I see you. You are showing up in quiet and extraordinary ways. You’re building lives filled with service, care, and intention—not just managing time but creating meaning. And in that fullness, you are deeply blessed.