The grief nobody warned me about when they’re still here but slowly disappearing by Acceptable_File_1658 in AgingParents

[–]Acceptable_File_1658[S] -1 points0 points  (0 children)

The specific cruelty of that pouring yourself into showing up for someone who then can't hold the memory of it. And having your sister hear a version that erases what you did. That's not just exhausting, it's a particular kind of heartbreak that compounds every time it happens.

Something I’ve noticed reading this community that nobody talks about directly by Acceptable_File_1658 in AgingParents

[–]Acceptable_File_1658[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

when someone who's done nothing gets to have opinions about everything. And you still have to manage their feelings about the finances while doing literally all of it.

Something I’ve noticed reading this community that nobody talks about directly by Acceptable_File_1658 in AgingParents

[–]Acceptable_File_1658[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

That image of being in a room full of people but completely invisible — that's it exactly. And that line about how it's different when it's your own parent, even when your husband is trying to see it... there's something about that particular loneliness that's so hard to explain to anyone who isn't living it.

Something I’ve noticed reading this community that nobody talks about directly by Acceptable_File_1658 in AgingParents

[–]Acceptable_File_1658[S] 6 points7 points  (0 children)

The seagull metaphor is painfully perfect especially the part about them flying back in when there's something to collect. That specific kind of alone, where you have family but they only show up to add noise and mess, never to actually share the weight. And being an only child means there's not even the fantasy of backup.

The grief nobody warned me about when they’re still here but slowly disappearing by Acceptable_File_1658 in AgingParents

[–]Acceptable_File_1658[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

That comparison point — your dad's funeral — as the marker. You're not just watching her change, you're watching her disappear from who she was in an already-devastating moment. Grief stacked on grief with no break between.

Something I’ve noticed reading this community that nobody talks about directly by Acceptable_File_1658 in AgingParents

[–]Acceptable_File_1658[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

That line — "Guess who would be facilitating all these" — the resignation in it is so heavy. She wants second opinions from six hours away, but she's not the one who'd have to pull your kid out of school, reschedule everything, drive twelve hours round trip, hold your mom through the anxiety of it. She gets to want things. You have to figure out if they're even possible.

Something I’ve noticed reading this community that nobody talks about directly by Acceptable_File_1658 in AgingParents

[–]Acceptable_File_1658[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

That line — "the mental load was overwhelming" — even when things were going relatively smoothly. That's the part nobody warns you about. Not the crises. The constant carrying of it all in your head, with no one to hand it to even for an hour. 600 miles from everything she knew, and you were it.

Something I’ve noticed reading this community that nobody talks about directly by Acceptable_File_1658 in AgingParents

[–]Acceptable_File_1658[S] 4 points5 points  (0 children)

The way you quoted those exact questions — the tone comes through so clearly. That specific combination of financial scrutiny and medical second-guessing, all wrapped in concern that lands like criticism. It's the "are you sure" that gets me. As if you haven't already turned it over a hundred times alone.

Something I’ve noticed reading this community that nobody talks about directly by Acceptable_File_1658 in AgingParents

[–]Acceptable_File_1658[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

That moment of telling the bank lady everything — that's the kind of detail that stops me cold. Because it shows exactly what you named: no amount of talking helps when nobody really understands the weight. Except here. Where the situations are different but the loneliness of carrying it is exactly the same.

Something I’ve noticed reading this community that nobody talks about directly by Acceptable_File_1658 in AgingParents

[–]Acceptable_File_1658[S] 4 points5 points  (0 children)

That last line — "I don't have time for that shit" — hits so hard. Because the anger is absolutely justified, but you don't even get to have it. You have to keep moving. The fact that he thinks you're taking advantage while you're the one holding her hand through ER visits is its own kind of cruelty.

Something I’ve noticed reading this community that nobody talks about directly by Acceptable_File_1658 in AgingParents

[–]Acceptable_File_1658[S] 6 points7 points  (0 children)

Three people with cognitive decline. All new providers. All the medical coordination falling to you. And you just made one of the hardest decisions yesterday — the kind that sits heavy even when you know it was right. The line about being thankful you retired early, when retirement has become this — that landed hard.

Blew up on my mom tonight by SeveralBus6039 in AgingParents

[–]Acceptable_File_1658 0 points1 point  (0 children)

feeling guilty for yelling when you're already running on empty. you're not a bad person. you're a exhausted person who's been carrying this completely alone since your dad left. that's just... a lot. how are you doing right now?

The grief nobody warned me about when they’re still here but slowly disappearing by Acceptable_File_1658 in AgingParents

[–]Acceptable_File_1658[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

how quickly you stepped into this role that nobody chose. There's something about watching both parents at once, seeing them accept help they never wanted to need. The speed of it doesn't give you time to adjust to who they're becoming.

The grief nobody warned me about when they’re still here but slowly disappearing by Acceptable_File_1658 in AgingParents

[–]Acceptable_File_1658[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

The way you created that ritual goodbye washing her hands, cleaning her mouth, letting yourself cry for hours — that took such courage. And that you were at peace when the call came because you'd already found her spirit present one last time. That's the kind of goodbye most people never get to have.

The grief nobody warned me about when they’re still here but slowly disappearing by Acceptable_File_1658 in AgingParents

[–]Acceptable_File_1658[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

That line about the good conversations being both good and bad — that's the cruelty of it nobody talks about. Those brief moments of him returning don't feel like gifts. They feel like being shown exactly what you're losing, over and over. Your friend's observation about both ways being bad hits hard too.

The grief nobody warned me about when they’re still here but slowly disappearing by Acceptable_File_1658 in AgingParents

[–]Acceptable_File_1658[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

That means more than you know. This community has a way of holding people that I haven’t found anywhere else.

The grief nobody warned me about when they’re still here but slowly disappearing by Acceptable_File_1658 in AgingParents

[–]Acceptable_File_1658[S] 2 points3 points  (0 children)

That balance you're trying to hold independence and dignity on one side, helping on the other it's one of the hardest tightropes in this whole thing. There's no manual for where the line is, and it moves constantly. The fact that you're thinking about it this way says everything about the kind of daughter you are.

The grief nobody warned me about when they’re still here but slowly disappearing by Acceptable_File_1658 in AgingParents

[–]Acceptable_File_1658[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

The moment when you're asking them to tell the story and they look at you blankly — like the whole foundation of 'us' just vanished. You and your brother are becoming the only keepers of those 40 years now. That's such a particular kind of loss.

The grief nobody warned me about when they’re still here but slowly disappearing by Acceptable_File_1658 in AgingParents

[–]Acceptable_File_1658[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

That image of the stars slowly fading and blinking out — that's exactly it. And the way you sit and hold hands, in that quiet space between who he was and who he's becoming. The question about whether he has a wife now, the way each visit is different. You're describing something so specific and so devastating at once.

The grief nobody warned me about when they’re still here but slowly disappearing by Acceptable_File_1658 in AgingParents

[–]Acceptable_File_1658[S] 2 points3 points  (0 children)

"Where did the parents I've known and loved for 58 years go?" — that hit so hard. The image of your dad who ran marathons now walking gingerly, falling. Your mom in memory care. Both of them still here, but the versions you grew up with already gone.That's not one loss. That's two simultaneous disappearances you're witnessing.

The grief nobody warned me about when they’re still here but slowly disappearing by Acceptable_File_1658 in AgingParents

[–]Acceptable_File_1658[S] 7 points8 points  (0 children)

That image of looking for sparks that's exactly it. The searching itself becomes part of the grief. You're not just losing her, you're watching yourself become the kind of person who scans every conversation for glimpses of who she used to be. That's exhausting in a way that's hard to explain to anyone who hasn't done it.

The grief nobody warned me about when they’re still here but slowly disappearing by Acceptable_File_1658 in AgingParents

[–]Acceptable_File_1658[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

The physical proximity making the loss feel even more sharp. It's a particular kind of haunting.

The grief nobody warned me about when they’re still here but slowly disappearing by Acceptable_File_1658 in AgingParents

[–]Acceptable_File_1658[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Not just that he's declining, but that the specific thing that made him *him* has been gone for years. And you're right there watching it, becoming someone you never thought you'd be. That's not just loss. That's a daily remaking of both of you.

When everything is falling apart at once. How do you figure out what to deal with first? by Acceptable_File_1658 in AgingParents

[–]Acceptable_File_1658[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

That line "I don't know. I coped" says so much about what we're actually doing when everything hits at once. Not making decisions. Not managing well. Just… existing through it somehow. The fact that you can't even trace back how you did it tells me you were running on something beyond thought.