For most of my life, my response to a difficult situation has been to keep going. If something was not working, I looked for another solution. If that solution failed, I tried something else. I have always believed there is almost always an answer if you stay with a problem long enough to find it.

That mindset served me well in business. I started my first company at 23, and building businesses taught me quickly that things rarely go according to plan. Equipment breaks. Weather changes schedules. Employees need answers. Customers have concerns. Jobs become more complicated than they looked on paper. There were plenty of days when I was tired, frustrated, or unsure of the next move, but I learned to continue working through it.

For a long time, I considered that ability to push through almost entirely positive. I still value persistence enormously. What I have learned during this chapter of my life, however, is that persistence does not always mean continuing at full speed. Sometimes stopping for a few hours is actually what allows you to keep going.

I Was Always Comfortable Pushing Through

I spent years building companies in the paving industry and eventually served as general manager at Rose Paving. Pressure was simply part of the job. When you are responsible for employees, customers, projects, and a business, you cannot decide that you are finished because the day became difficult.

I became good at operating that way. If we had a rough week, I knew it would eventually end. A project would finish. A customer issue would get resolved. A deadline would pass. Even during stressful periods, I usually had something to point to and say, “We got through that.”

I also felt satisfaction in knowing I hadn’t quit when something became difficult. The more often I pushed through a problem and eventually solved it, the more convinced I became that working harder was usually the answer.

Then my circumstances changed. I stepped away from my career to become the primary caregiver for my wife, KC, who has ALS, while also taking care of our two young sons. I brought the same mindset with me, but I quickly discovered that caregiving operates by very different rules.

Caregiving Does Not Have a Clear Finish Line

One of the biggest differences between running a business and being a caregiver is that there is no real point when you clock out. The responsibilities are always there in some form.

There are the needs that come with caring for someone with ALS. Appointments, household responsibilities, decisions, and things that have to be planned ahead. At the same time, we have two boys, six and five. They still need their dad, and I want them to have as normal a childhood as possible. Their lives cannot simply stop because our family is dealing with something difficult.

I want to be there for all of it, but wanting to be there does not give me unlimited energy. A few times a month, I reach a point where I can tell that I am burned out. I become more tired than usual. My patience starts getting shorter. Small tasks begin feeling much bigger than they really are.

When that happens, I usually do not want anything elaborate. I am not looking to escape my responsibilities or disappear for a week. Sometimes I just want a few hours of quiet where nobody needs anything from me.

It took me longer than it probably should have to accept that.

I Had to Get Past the Guilt of Needing a Break

Guilt can come with needing time for yourself when someone you love is sick. I decided to step away from my career because my family needed me. KC needs me, and my boys need me. When you look at it that way, it can feel selfish to say you need some time alone.

I wrestled with that because it went against how I had operated for most of my life. My instinct was to tell myself that I was fine and keep moving. If I was tired, I could push through it. I had done that countless times before.

Eventually, I had to ask myself a different question. If I was physically present but completely exhausted, was I actually giving my family what they needed from me? If I had no patience left because I had refused to stop for weeks, was pushing through really helping anyone?

I did not particularly like the answer.

There is a difference between being present and being useful. Sometimes taking a few hours to reset allows me to return with more patience and energy. I have had to stop viewing that time as something taken away from my family and start seeing it as part of caring for them responsibly.

Some Problems Cannot Be Solved by Working Harder

This has probably been the hardest adjustment for me personally. Business trained me to solve problems. You identify what is wrong, consider the options, make a decision, and keep working until the situation improves.

ALS does not work that way. There are things I cannot fix by putting in another four hours. Some circumstances can’t be changed by determination. For someone who has spent his life believing that there is almost always another answer, accepting that can be extremely difficult.

I still believe persistence matters. What has changed is my understanding of what persistence can look like. Some days, persistence means pushing forward and handling everything in front of me. Other days, persistence means recognizing that I am reaching my limit and giving myself enough time to recover.

Twenty years ago, I probably would have considered stopping a weakness. Today, I understand that sometimes it is simply maintenance.

Rest Does Not Need to Be Productive

I have also had to become more comfortable with the idea that not every hour needs to accomplish something measurable. That sounds simple, but it is difficult when you have spent most of your adult life measuring progress through completed jobs, solved problems, revenue, growth, and the next goal.

If I get a few hours to myself, I do not necessarily need to turn them into another project. I can read, think, sit somewhere quietly, or simply have a little time where I am not responsible for solving the next problem.

Part of me still wants to make even that time productive. I catch myself thinking about what else I could be getting done. Then I remind myself why I needed the break in the first place.

If I come back more patient with my boys and better able to care for KC, then those quiet hours served a purpose. They don’t need to leave anything else to show for them.

Asking for Help Is Still Difficult for Me

Recognizing that I need a break is one thing. Creating the opportunity to take one is another. That usually means accepting that I cannot personally handle every responsibility all the time.

I have always been more comfortable being the person people come to for help than being the person asking for it. I think many people who have spent their careers in leadership positions understand that feeling. You become accustomed to being responsible for finding answers, and eventually it becomes part of how you see yourself.

Caregiving has forced me to question whether that approach always makes sense. I may be capable of handling something myself, but that does not automatically mean I should handle everything myself. Those are two very different questions.

I am still learning how to accept help without feeling as though I am handing over a responsibility that belongs to me. I do not think I have completely figured that out yet.

My Understanding of Strength Has Changed

For much of my life, I associated strength with endurance. You take the hit, get back up, and continue moving. I still believe that kind of resilience has tremendous value. I wouldn’t have built the businesses I built without it, and I couldn’t handle what life requires of me today without it.

What has changed is that my definition of strength has become broader. Strength can also mean recognizing when you are approaching your limit. It can mean admitting that you need a few hours of quiet. It can mean letting someone else help without convincing yourself that accepting that help is failure.

I am not naturally good at those things, which may be exactly why I needed to learn them.

My family does not need me to prove how long I can operate without stopping. They need me to be there for the long haul. I still don’t believe in giving up when life gets difficult, and I doubt that part of me will ever change. I have simply learned that occasionally sitting down isn’t the same as walking away.