Dear Adri,
In the last few years, my dad has experienced some life changes related to his health and is now living in an assisted living living facility. Between work, parenting, and taking care of my own health, I only see him about once a week. The time together is often spent watching football or TV because his strokes make it hard for him to talk. He also has dementia and untreated depression that makes everything feel even harder. I find myself in a guilt spiral. I feel guilty for not going over more, guilty when I leave, and especially guilty for even being concerned about how I feel in comparison to where his life is now. I want to be there for him in the right way but I don’t know what that is. Would you do anything different?
Guilty
Dear Guilty,
I’m not going to lie, I cried reading your question. My dad passed almost two years ago, but before he did, I grappled with many of these feelings over the course of his care. The worry that I wasn’t doing enough—the reality that I was doing too much, mostly on my own. Guilt, shame, sadness—huge sadness, because, after all, you are processing the slow loss of your dad, which can get lost in the logistics and the labor.
You aren’t alone and you aren’t a monster—caregiving, be it parenting, elder care, etc is one of the hardest things we will ever do, and this country makes it far harder and more expensive than it needs to be at a policy level. And doing it while juggling the full complexities of working, parenting adult life is a tremendous task.
It, in my experience, is also one of the highest honors and deepest acts of love and care we can give our loved ones. There is no version of life where you will regret anything you do for him now. It’s particularly unique to let the care dynamic reverse between parent and child. It’s vulnerable, and scary, and if you weren’t already, it makes you grapple with your mortality.
There is no way to make it easier. Whatever you are doing, whatever you can do, will be enough. We try to bridge the gaps. We do our best. We try to quickly give all of the love that we fear will soon have nowhere to go. That is The Gift. The only way to do more is through community—through asking for and accepting help, so do that, if you haven’t. I don’t know if he needs more. You probably do.
More useful than any of my words though, as you and your dad walk this path together, may be this poem from Mary Oliver—I read it whenever I miss my grandmother or my dad, which is often and will be always.
Yours with love and in grief,
Adri
This is beautiful, Adrienne.🥹💔❤️🩹