Sawubona: I See You (National Family Caregivers Month Part I)
The number of Americans caring for loved ones is anything but insignificant. According to the 2025 Caregiving in the U.S. report from AARP and the National Alliance for Caregiving, approximately 63 million Americans—nearly one in four adults—provide care for a family member, friend, or neighbor living with illness, disability, or other significant health challenges. That represents a 45% increase over the past decade.
Much of this care is provided without compensation by family members and friends who may have little or no formal training. The demands extend far beyond physical assistance. Nearly one in four caregivers reports feeling socially isolated, while approximately two-thirds experience moderate to high emotional stress.
Behind these numbers are millions of individuals whose contributions sustain families and communities, yet whose own needs and struggles may go largely unrecognized.
To each of them, I offer a simple greeting: Sawubona. (sah-oo-BOH-nah)
In isiZulu, a language spoken in South Africa, Sawubona is an everyday greeting meaning "I see you."
While it is a simple greeting, these words invite us to consider something profound: What does it mean to truly see another person? Not simply to notice their presence, but to recognize their humanity, their experiences, and the life they carry beyond what is visible to others.
As we begin National Family Caregivers Month, I can think of few people who deserve that recognition more than those who care for others.
To the caregiver: I see you.
I see the early mornings and sleepless nights. The appointments scheduled, medications managed, meals prepared, and difficult decisions made. I see the responsibilities that rarely pause and the countless small acts of care that may go unnoticed.
But caregiving involves more than the tasks we can observe.
There is the emotional weight of watching someone you love struggle. The uncertainty of what tomorrow might bring. The frustration of circumstances beyond your control. The grief that sometimes begins long before a death or other significant loss occurs.
And there may be moments of tenderness, laughter, gratitude, and meaning woven throughout the difficulties.
Caregiving is rarely one emotion or experience. Love and exhaustion can coexist. Gratitude and resentment may occupy the same space. A caregiver can find deep meaning in caring for another person while simultaneously wishing life were different. None of these experiences diminishes the love or commitment that may be present.
Through my years working in hospice care, accompanying individuals and families facing serious illness, dying, and grief, I have come to appreciate how easily the caregiver can become invisible. Conversations understandably focus on the person receiving care. We ask about their symptoms, their comfort, and their needs. But how often do we turn to the caregiver and ask, "How are you doing?" And perhaps more importantly, how often do we make room for an answer beyond "I'm fine"? Caregivers are more than the responsibilities they carry. They are individuals with their own hopes, fears, relationships, limitations, and needs.
This November, perhaps we can begin by offering caregivers something that requires neither expertise nor an immediate solution: our attention, our presence, and our willingness to listen.
Not to fix their circumstances or tell them how they should feel, but to acknowledge their experience.
Sawubona. I see you.
And you matter, too.
Next week: When Love and Grief Exist Together — exploring the complicated emotions and often-unrecognized grief that can accompany caregiving.
Reference
AARP & National Alliance for Caregiving. (2025). Caregiving in the U.S. 2025. https://www.caregivingintheus.org/
Christopher Henson, LCMHCA
Christopher works with adults experiencing grief and loss, anxiety, depression, caregiver stress and burnout, serious illness, and major life transitions. He has particular interests in supporting bereaved spouses and partners, men seeking counseling, caregivers, clergy, healthcare workers and other helping professionals, and individuals navigating spirituality, religious trauma, or changes in personal beliefs.
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