Anonymous wrote:

Anonymous wrote:I’m more bitter than jealous. I was 18 when my mom died and 44 when my dad died suddenly. I have a cousin who is nearly 60 and falling apart because her 80+ parents aren’t doing well nor is her 80+ husband. My sibling and I are trying to step in with care for her parents because she can’t seem to manage it. She’s never experienced real loss and it all seems beyond her. I just have no compassion for it. Maybe I should, but I don’t. She’s been beyond blessed to still have them all and can’t see that.

I can see how you feel on one hand but…

My mom and dad are still alive - 87 & 86 - and can’t afford home care, won’t move near family, are living on social security (barely) in a 3/4 million dollar home. Now that my kids are grown, I am expected to leave everything in MY life (my company, husband, pets, etc) to live where they are because they are not doing well. Ten years of giving them every opportunity to make sure this did NOT happen, and enduring getting called selfish, etc. because I could see the train wreck coming. They are not cognitively aware enough anymore to understand that they will destroy my husband and my retirement if we are forced to provide the 10K/month care they will require. They could afford ALL this by simply downsizing. My father’s doc just yelled at him for refusing to use a walker despite a couple falls by telling him, yes, I am correct, that he CAN be forced by the state into a nursing home due to unsafe conditions. He now will at least use one.

Compare this to a neighbor up the street I am friends with and help. She’s physically disabled (walker, etc) but mentally very competent. She’s still able to live on her own and is mentally sharp as a tack, but more importantly, she made sure to take care of her financial future. Sadly her husband passed 10 years ago. Helping her week to week with things she cannot physically do is a pleasure as is spending time with her, because we know what her future looks like. I am the daughter she never had and when it comes time for assisted living, etc. you can be damn sure I will be there to ensure NO ONE abuses her. Instead of being her parent, I can continue to be her loving friend and “daughter”. When parents essentially turn you into THEIR parent through stubbornness, resentment is a natural outcome. It’s not about the idea of being there to help; it’s about being expected to give up EVERYTHING in YOUR life to help.

I sincerely wish you had more time with your Mom and Dad, I truly do. That doesn’t make it easy for your cousin. Her primary responsibility is to her husband at this point.

Anonymous wrote:I’m more bitter than jealous. I was 18 when my mom died and 44 when my dad died suddenly. I have a cousin who is nearly 60 and falling apart because her 80+ parents aren’t doing well nor is her 80+ husband. My sibling and I are trying to step in with care for her parents because she can’t seem to manage it. She’s never experienced real loss and it all seems beyond her. I just have no compassion for it. Maybe I should, but I don’t. She’s been beyond blessed to still have them all and can’t see that.

Anonymous wrote:Thanks, everyone. OP here. I came back on and see that more people responded. I really appreciate all of the thoughts and comments. It’s comforting. My kids dance ballet and will be performing in Nutcracker coming up. My mom danced ballet and would be so proud of them. I’m planning to invite friends and some extended family, but I’m also prepared to be incredibly happy/proud and sad and get good at experiencing and holding those emotions simultaneously. Extending warm thoughts to all who have commented about their parents who have also died. I’m so sorry for your losses, too. The loss of a parent — whether the relationship was good or not so good — is so emotionally complicated.

Anonymous wrote:

Anonymous wrote:I’m more bitter than jealous. I was 18 when my mom died and 44 when my dad died suddenly. I have a cousin who is nearly 60 and falling apart because her 80+ parents aren’t doing well nor is her 80+ husband. My sibling and I are trying to step in with care for her parents because she can’t seem to manage it. She’s never experienced real loss and it all seems beyond her. I just have no compassion for it. Maybe I should, but I don’t. She’s been beyond blessed to still have them all and can’t see that.

OP here — I feel this 100%. I actually used the word “bitter” today in admitting these feelings to a friend today. I’m acknowledging the feelings, so I feel like that’s half the battle. I do hope it fades in time. But it’s hard. I have a friend who constantly complains about her mom and it’s so hard to listen to. I get it. My relationship with my mom was far from perfect, but I think it’s hard to have the grateful mindset when the person is still alive and well. It usually takes death to bring things into perspective. I can even admit that, in hindsight, there were so many times I took my mom for granted. Now, I wish I could have all of that time back and do it over. Alas….

Anonymous wrote:I’m more bitter than jealous. I was 18 when my mom died and 44 when my dad died suddenly. I have a cousin who is nearly 60 and falling apart because her 80+ parents aren’t doing well nor is her 80+ husband. My sibling and I are trying to step in with care for her parents because she can’t seem to manage it. She’s never experienced real loss and it all seems beyond her. I just have no compassion for it. Maybe I should, but I don’t. She’s been beyond blessed to still have them all and can’t see that.

Anonymous wrote:OP, I get it. My parents died when I was in my 20s. I was very close to my father. I am 55 now and it still hurts. The hardest part was my children not having grandparents (my DH's parents not involved at all), especially at schools where a "grandparents day" was a big deal. A wonderful principal had a beautiful solution- He would offer that kids without grandparents living near them could bring an older person without grandchildren from the church to the grandparents event. My kids built a beautiful relationship with a widowed woman who did not have children of her own.