We write for caregivers the rest of the media forgot.

My day job is VP of Business Development and Operations at an orthodontics company. My other job — the one that shaped everything you're reading here — is being the primary caregiver for my 92-year-old mother, who lives with early-stage dementia. Neither job goes on pause for the other. Both happen inside the same twenty-four hours.

I did not set out to become a caregiver. Most of us don't. One afternoon the phone rings, or a doctor pulls you aside, or you notice a small thing that turns out not to be small at all, and suddenly the calendar you thought you owned belongs to someone else. I learned the way almost every family caregiver learns: at the kitchen table at 11 p.m., by trial and error, by calling the wrong number first.

I am a working professional and a full-time caregiver at the same time. Undersong is written for the sixty-three million of us doing both.

Alongside Undersong I create content for Chronicles of a Rookie Caregiver, a running, first-person account of what caregiving actually looks like day to day — the small wins, the honest mistakes, the phone calls that go nowhere, the ones that quietly change everything. The series exists to promote awareness of, and support for, the millions of other people doing this same work. Undersong is the handbook I wished someone had handed me; Chronicles sits alongside it as the on-the-ground record of what that work feels like.

I am building Undersong with zero outside capital. No venture money, no ad network, no sponsored editorial. That is a deliberate choice: it keeps the writing loyal to the reader, not to a funder. It also means the pace is Sunday-morning pace — one essay, one checklist, one reader note at a time. If that feels slow, it is because the work of caregiving is slow, and the writing about it should be too.

I am still a caregiver. I still keep the notebook. The brand is built so that what I learned the hard way is the thing you don't have to.