Caring for aging, difficult parents has the unique ability to make us feel older than we ever thought we’d be and like the little children we were all at once. It’s an experience that is thick with time travel and emotional lava bubbling up from within.
I'm currently caring for my father in hospice. I have no idea about his finances because his wife keeps everything a secret. But I'm the one cleaning him up and begging him to eat and take his pills. That's the most difficult part.
Several folks forwarded this to me, but I'd already saved it to read when I had some quiet time. As a child you dream of getting away — I did dream that. I was supposed to be gone completely and living in my farmhouse by the time I was 45 (and that had been put off and put off and put off). But than a parent dies and one is left alone, and how can you leave? And that one gets ill, and how can you leave? And then, you're 67, jeesus, that's almost 70, and you're still attached at the umbilical cord. I imagine I will be long after she's gone. Assuming she goes some time before me, which she may not. ❤️
This article is brilliantly written and caused me to subscribe to you. It definitely makes its way past model to become genuinely poignant. It is great writing because your voice is so clear and eloquent here. Thank you.-Erie
Thank you for putting this as an offering of not-aloneness out to others. I’m 37 and spending the week with my parents and starting to see some mental threads lose their tethering—the logic lost. I came here looking for someone else who could relate. A light in the dark.
In other words — I’m sorry for your experience. Thank you for sharing it. It means the world to me at a very strange and scary time. 🩷
Caring for aging, difficult parents has the unique ability to make us feel older than we ever thought we’d be and like the little children we were all at once. It’s an experience that is thick with time travel and emotional lava bubbling up from within.
I'm currently caring for my father in hospice. I have no idea about his finances because his wife keeps everything a secret. But I'm the one cleaning him up and begging him to eat and take his pills. That's the most difficult part.
Several folks forwarded this to me, but I'd already saved it to read when I had some quiet time. As a child you dream of getting away — I did dream that. I was supposed to be gone completely and living in my farmhouse by the time I was 45 (and that had been put off and put off and put off). But than a parent dies and one is left alone, and how can you leave? And that one gets ill, and how can you leave? And then, you're 67, jeesus, that's almost 70, and you're still attached at the umbilical cord. I imagine I will be long after she's gone. Assuming she goes some time before me, which she may not. ❤️
This article is brilliantly written and caused me to subscribe to you. It definitely makes its way past model to become genuinely poignant. It is great writing because your voice is so clear and eloquent here. Thank you.-Erie
Lovely.
Thank you for putting this as an offering of not-aloneness out to others. I’m 37 and spending the week with my parents and starting to see some mental threads lose their tethering—the logic lost. I came here looking for someone else who could relate. A light in the dark.
In other words — I’m sorry for your experience. Thank you for sharing it. It means the world to me at a very strange and scary time. 🩷
Love to you.
I can feel every moment of this journey because you have written it so well. Thank you.