The secret to my parents' 60-year marriage is based on so many factors, some of which could never be predicted. That's right: Sixty years of mutual devotion, regular frustration, occasional spats and a fierce commitment to the greater good. There were no hot air balloon rides or tandem sky jumping stunts. No open bar. Not even a harbor cruise. The auspicious milestone was marked quietly, with a small family gathering at my dad's nursing home.

But in my head, champagne corks went a-popping.

As we all know, your average American marriage these days is not a safe bet for 60 years of two lovers in the same sack. But looking back at my parents' long marriage, I can point to a number of things that fused and strengthened their connection over the years. They shared a common legacy of immigrant families, dedication to family and education, and a certain joie de vivre. Best of all, they were always willing to air their differences (honestly and audibly) -- and then make up, with due affection. Those traits probably helped them weather many tempests.

Oh, and did I mention my 85-year-old father's mistress? I'm quite sure the past 10 years would have been hell for both of them without her. Thank goodness for her ever-present, ever-yielding spirit.

But she's no ordinary mistress. You see, my father suffers from dementia. And over the course of the last decade since his diagnosis, to while away the long, physically inactive hours, he has found a way to fill this void ... with an imaginary mistress.

Her name is Cunégonde (pronounced kuh-nee-gund-uh), derived from the love interest in Voltaire's Candide. And she's beautiful. Imagine my devoted mother's shock (and amusement) when she found out one day that a young and voluptuous paramour had been entertaining her husband with visits -- regular visits, if you ask him. And if you keep his mind engaged along this line of conversation, as my mother so diligently does, they're apparently conjugal visits!

For my dad, his fantasy lover acts in many dramatic roles. She is a playmate, lover, maternal figure, and most of all, as my dad himself explains, a source of solace.

Life in the nursing home can be a lonely existence. But when mom asks what he most appreciates about Cunégonde, Dad quips, "She has beautiful breasts. And she has a good disposition."

Working with him to stay connected, my mother inquires, "Which is more important?"

"You can't have one without the other!" blurts Dad. As they chortle together, it is comic proof that years of dementia have not dimmed the man's appreciation of the good things in life.

To read more of this post from Jody Gastfriend, LICSW, read her blog at http://www.huffingtonpost.com/jody-gastfriend/mistress-my-fathers_b_2641075.html

One of the biggest advantages to having some years behind you is knowing how things will turn out when you are past middle school, high school, college and everything that follows. During this season of valentines, I'm penning a love letter to my younger self, reassuring her about life's major milestones and telling her what I now know: It will all turn out just fine.

Dear Jody,

Here, let me give you a hug. Middle school is tough and changing schools is especially hard. After years of coddling and feeling like the star in elementary school, you suddenly feel invisible and insignificant. Everyone expects you to be self-sufficient. Your teachers drop difficult concepts into your lap and expect you to sink or swim. That said, you're really knocking that academic stuff out of the park! I know you're afraid to "mess up," but you are smarter than you give yourself credit for. Work on becoming more confident. And while that first secret crush is especially painful, there is nothing to be ashamed of. In a couple of years, you'll go from "gawky" to "elegant" and you'll have no trouble finding boys to date. Oh, and that "weird" kid in your third period science class -- be nice to him. Someday he may be your husband's boss.

Ah, high school is such a tempest. Mean girls, trash-talking boys and teachers who would rather be doing something else. Don't believe that the slightest misstep in your junior year will ruin your chances with a good college, which will ruin your chances at a job and important friends, which will ruin your chances at life. So much of all our futures depend on luck and happenstance, and you end up doing what you were willing to reach for. Falling in love for real is a whirlwind and you will fall hard. Weekends spent crying on the couch because your boyfriend is MIA seem like it is the end of your world. But it isn't. Enjoy your friends (the good ones, like your friend Beth who will still be in your life 35 years later!). Ignore the cool guys who converse with your chest. At your high school reunion 20 years later, they all have pot bellies and receding hair lines.

And stop catastrophizing. Getting a B- on your chemistry final and losing your term paper for honors English (in the old days when there were only typewriters) seem like calamities at the time. But the drama, anguish, gut-wrenching ups and downs of high school and college will help you to be a better and more understanding mother.

Oh and appreciate your own parents once in a while. While they might drive you crazy now, you will cherish their love and guidance once you have your own kids. The memories of long late night talks with Mom and watching Walter Cronkite with Dad seem so precious later in life.

To read more of this post from Jody Gastfriend, LICSW, read her blog at http://www.huffingtonpost.com/jody-gastfriend/letter-to-my-younger-self_b_2672365.html

Caregiving is often an unpredicatable road of turns and junctions, particularly for those who are caught off guard. In fact, unexpected twists and turns are part of the journey. It's just a matter of recognizing your "new normal" as a family caregiver. Whether you are new to this series or just joining, I have discussed first spotting signs that your parent's health may be declining, then putting a care plan in place, and now comes the acceptance of your new life -- the new "normal."

My dad turned 86 a couple of months ago. He had been doing quite well in the nursing home where he's lived for four years. His dementia wasn't getting any worse and his mood was mostly cheerful and content. Then two weeks ago, I got a call that Dad was in the hospital following chest pains. My husband, three children and I dropped everything and made the two-hour trip to Western Massachusetts, where Dad was in intensive care. He had just "ruled in for an MI." In other words, he had a heart attack.

The next two weeks were a whirlwind of good and bad news (mostly bad). Initially Dad's health improved and he was discharged back to the nursing home. Less than a week later he was readmitted for nausea and vomiting. Then my mom got the flu. Then Dad's medications somehow got mixed up and he didn't get his new heart medicine. Then his blood pressure shot up. Days later it stabilized but the blood thinner levels were off. And so it went.

We've been down this road before, as have many other seniors' children and grandchildren. Miraculously, my father has made it, despite some pretty close calls. If you're going through something like this, you're not alone. Here are some of the things I've learned about coping with the new normal of caregiving:

1) Expect the unexpected. Just when you think you know the prognosis, the routine, the choices -- something you couldn't have anticipated happens. Find ways to respond, and keep moving.
2) Never say never. Don't promise Mom that you will never put her in a nursing home. It may be the safest and best option one day.
3) It's OK and "normal" to get angry and frustrated. You need to find a safe outlet to express negative, pent up feelings. Talk to a friend, join a support group or get professional help.
4) Get on the same page with your siblings. Forget that your sister's college tuition was paid by Mom and Dad while you were saddled with student loans. Focus on how to plan for Dad's care. Let go of the old hurts (or put them in a box for another time if you can't totally let go).

To read more of this post from Jody Gastfriend, LICSW, read her blog at http://www.huffingtonpost.com/jody-gastfriend/caregiving-navigating-the-caregiving-frontier_b_2617287.html