About
About Moab CareLink
Why this site exists, what it is — and what it is not.
What Moab CareLink is
Moab CareLink is an independent, community-based platform for family caregivers and patients in Moab and Grand County, Utah. It gathers practical, evidence-based information about caregiving, adjustment to serious illness, financial help, and local resources — in one place, written in plain language.
The goal is simple: when someone in a small rural community is suddenly handed a caregiving role, or a scary diagnosis, or an aging parent who can't live alone anymore, there should be a quiet, honest place they can turn to for real information — not marketing, not a signup wall, not a directory that was written for a big city and doesn't reflect what's actually available here.
What Moab CareLink is not
- Not a licensed healthcare service.
- Not a nonprofit. Not a 501(c)(3).
- Not a clinical diagnostic tool.
- Not a matching service or caregiver agency.
- Not a replacement for advice from a doctor, therapist, lawyer, or licensed Medicare/Medicaid counselor.
Everything on this site is informational. Decisions about care, treatment, legal matters, and money should be made with qualified professionals who know your situation.
How Moab CareLink began
Moab is an extraordinary place. People come for the landscape, but it's the community that defines it.
When something is needed here, people show up — quietly, consistently, and without recognition. This project exists because of that.
It started with a Christmas Angel Tree.
In December 2025, a simple post asked for help fulfilling holiday wish cards from the Grand Center's Senior Angel Tree. Many of the requests were heartbreakingly basic — toilet paper, denture cream, a warm pair of socks. Things that should already be in someone's home. Within days, every card on that tree was fulfilled.
But it didn't stop there.
People kept showing up. Calls came in about other seniors who were isolated and struggling. Donations were offered. Services were offered. And most precious of all — time. Without any formal organization, Moab built a quiet network of neighbors helping neighbors: fixing appliances, giving rides, clearing yards, donating firewood, dropping off blankets, running errands, helping with paperwork, sitting with someone who didn't want to be alone.
It was humbling. Moab has always been the kind of place that steps up when an emergency hits — and what became clear is that for many of our seniors, the emergency has been quietly going on for years.
That same six-month stretch also brought into focus something many in the community already sensed: while the people of Moab are extraordinary, formal support is limited. In-home care is scarce. Assisted living options are few. And longtime residents are sometimes faced with leaving home to access the care they need.
Our family came to understand that reality firsthand.
A serious health diagnosis turned daily life upside down almost overnight. A newly-retired husband became a full-time, around-the-clock caregiver. The decline into bedridden isolation came faster than anyone was prepared for.
One of the hardest parts wasn't the care itself — it was trying to find help. Sorting through scattered information. Making call after call. Often without clear answers. The kind of search that takes time and energy a depleted family simply doesn't have. What felt like a personal challenge turned out to be a shared one — quietly familiar to many families in this community, even if it's rarely spoken out loud.
When you have nothing left to give, the last thing you can do is make twenty phone calls to find out there is no help nearby.
It has come at our family from every side.
That was only the beginning. As the months went on, the same pattern showed up again — and again — and not only inside our own home.
An elderly loved one in our family had to leave Moab to reach the level of care that simply is not available here. Hundreds of miles away from the people who love them, and from the place that had been home.
A second family member — born and raised in this town — may be next. Someone who helped build this community is now being measured against the question of whether they can stay in it. That conversation has begun at our own kitchen table.
And it has not been only us. Through the neighbor-to-neighbor support that grew out of the Angel Tree work, we have walked alongside other local seniors trying to remain in the place they call home. Since December alone, four of them have had to relocate out of the area — not because they wanted to leave, but because the help they needed was not here.
From inside our own home. From our own family. From the wider circle of neighbors we have been trying to help. The same answer keeps surfacing — there is not enough care in Grand County, and people who built their lives here are being asked to leave it to stay safe.
This website doesn't solve those challenges.
What it does is bring together — in one place — the resources, tools, and information gathered along the way. Through lived experience. Through deep research. Through the generosity of this community. So others don't have to start from scratch when their own day arrives.
It pulls together what's genuinely available in Grand County, names the real limits honestly, and points to statewide and national options when local help isn't enough. Every resource is listed with a phone number, a website, and a plain-language description — so a depleted caregiver or patient doesn't have to guess. It also takes the human side seriously: the caregiver fatigue, the patient overwhelm, and the practical hope it takes to keep going.
The information is drawn from respected public-health sources — Mayo Clinic, the National Institutes of Health, the American Psychological Association, Cleveland Clinic, the VA — and translated into plain English for real families living real lives.
While this website was put together by a single local resident, the truth is that Moab built this. It is the care, concern, time, and generosity of this community — neighbors helping neighbors — that has already changed, and continues to change, the lives of friends, family, and those who might otherwise be overlooked.
Moab is the strength behind it all.
How it's kept up
Resource information is checked periodically. Phone numbers, links, and organizations change — especially in smaller communities. If you find a number that's disconnected or a link that's broken, please email so it can be corrected.
Contact
Questions, corrections, or a resource you think should be added?
Email:
If you are in a health or mental health crisis right now
Medical emergency: Call 911
Mental health crisis: Call or text 988 (Suicide & Crisis Lifeline)
Moab Regional Hospital: (435) 719-3500
Start exploring
Everything on this site is here to help you move forward — at whatever pace works for you.