Skating Through Grief: How One Caregiver Turned Pain Into Purpose

March 2, 2026

Heart of the Home Series Dementia Care Sandwich Generation Caregiver Stories

EnhDme Feature ❖ Heart of the Home Series

Jocelyn Cox’s story of caring for her mother through dementia — while raising a newborn and competing as a figure skater — is a masterclass in love, resilience, and the courage to keep moving forward.

By Kevin Lambing, CEO & Certified DME Specialist (CDME) · March 2026 · EnhDme Editorial

At EnhDme, we believe that the most important care in America doesn’t always happen inside a hospital. It happens in living rooms at 2 a.m., on long drives to doctor’s appointments, and in quiet moments when a daughter holds her mother’s hand and helps her write a check — one last time.

That’s why we created the Heart of the Home series: to shine a light on the extraordinary family caregivers who show up, day after day, with love that never clocks out. It is through one of these communities that we were introduced to our featured caregiver: author, figure skater, and devoted daughter, Jocelyn Jane Cox.

Meet Jocelyn Cox: The Skater Who Learned to Balance Love and Loss

Jocelyn Cox is many things: a competitive figure skater, a skating coach, a humor writer, a mother, and the author of the memoir Motion Dazzle. But for several of the most pivotal years of her life, she was something else entirely: a family caregiver.

When her mother began experiencing the early stages of dementia, Jocelyn was simultaneously navigating the first year of motherhood with a brand-new baby. Two people she loved desperately needed her — and both were on completely opposite trajectories. One was growing and gaining new skills every day. The other was losing them.

From Daughter to Caregiver

The Moment Everything Changed

“There was a moment I describe in my book Motion Dazzle, when my mother was trying to write a check to pay a bill. She didn’t know what to put where and writing itself was difficult. I realized in that moment that she was losing the ability to accomplish formerly simple tasks and was therefore losing her independence. It broke my heart. Shakily, she wrote that check with my help, and never wrote another one again.”

The Rink as a Training Ground for Life

Years of competitive figure skating had given Jocelyn a resilience she might not have found elsewhere. The sport demands that you push beyond your perceived limits — physically and psychologically. It teaches you to perform even in pain, to smile through discomfort, and to keep moving even when every instinct says stop.

“Figure skating instilled in me a resilience I might not have developed otherwise. Caring for my mother was challenging and upsetting — but, of course, I did it anyway, and I’m glad I had the capacity to do so.”

Balancing New Life and Slow Loss

“Two people I loved needed me for their survival. They were on opposite trajectories. One of them — my son — was gaining more developmental skills every day and one — my mother — was declining physically and mentally. I had to compartmentalize, and I became more and more skilled at that.”

The Guilt That Comes Later

“Because it was my son’s first birthday, I was not there for her final moment. This plagued me for a long time, but ultimately I have forgiven myself; writing the book helped me work through a lot of those feelings.”

That act of self-forgiveness is one of the most powerful things a caregiver can do. You are doing your best. You cannot be everywhere at once. And that has to be enough.

A Slow Grief

One of the most misunderstood aspects of caring for someone with dementia is the grief that begins long before they are gone. There is a term for this experience: ambiguous loss — the grief of losing someone who is still physically present.

“I absolutely ‘lost’ my mother for the most part long before she passed away. I didn’t know the term ‘ambiguous loss’ while I was going through it, but I have learned it since, and it absolutely describes the grief I felt.”

“I’d love people to know how significantly the dynamic can shift from cared-for to caregiver. The whole experience breaks your heart into a million pieces — and while that’s happening, you may be losing the very person who formerly served as a primary source of support. My mom was my person. Most of us keep putting one foot in front of the other, but the hurt and sadness is there at pretty much every moment.”

Humor, Identity, and the Art of Surviving

“Sometimes I wanted so desperately to be mothered, but of course that was not possible — and I could laugh at my little childlike self.”

Protecting Her Identity

One of the most important things Jocelyn did during caregiving was maintain a part of her life that was just hers. The skating rink was her sanctuary — a place where she was not a mother, not a daughter, not a caregiver. She was just Jocelyn, the coach. This is a critical lesson for all caregivers: preserving your identity is not selfish. It is survival.

For Those Skating on Thin Ice

“My advice is to go as easy on yourself as you possibly can. Just as parenting is imperfect, so is caregiving. We do our best, but aging and ailing is a ‘developing situation’ with constant shifts, changes, and unexpected occurrences. Just keep making decisions, re-assessing, and using mistakes as moments to pivot or grow within the experience.”

“Through writing Motion Dazzle, I was able to find more grace for myself and understand that my mother would have wanted me to do exactly what I did — and, with a clearer state of mind, I think she also would have approved of exactly how I did it.”

Jocelyn Jane Cox

Author · Figure Skating Coach · Caregiver Advocate

Jocelyn Jane Cox is the author of Motion Dazzle, a memoir about her experiences as a caregiver for her mother during the progression of dementia — while navigating new motherhood and a career as a competitive figure skater and skating coach. She is also the author of the humor book The Homeowner’s Guide to Greatness.

We Want to Hear Your Story

Are you a medical professional or a family caregiver with a story to tell? Help us shine a light on the grit and grace of caregiving.

Share Your Story →

You are not alone. You CAN care, cope, survive, and thrive!

Back to blog

Item added to your cart