I wrote this because I feel like sometimes people don’t understand the impact of a slow and expected death of a parent. Sharing it here because perhaps it can help someone going through the same thing to know that they’re not alone..
(Photo taken by Naska Demini)
Plain and simple it feels like hell. Like living in hell.
It feels like losing your parent over and over. And over. A little piece of them slipping away each day, each visit.
Because every day, every week, every month, there are declines that make me feel like I’m losing him all over again.
But, in the back of my mind, the big final Loss always looms.
Watching your parent die feels like constantly worrying. Like walking around with your phone glued to you. Like knowing in the two minutes you forget your phone at your desk you’ll miss an important call. Like you’re afraid to make plans because you don’t know if you’ll keep them. Like you just can’t get a good nights sleep so you’re always walking around like a zombie. Like having no energy for the fun stuff: socializing, going out, exploring. Like your brain just won’t shut up. Ever.
It feels like a major need for comfort. For familiar surroundings (I.e. work, gym, home. On repeat.) It feels like drowning, without any water.
It feels like permanent confusion. Like the inability to make even the smallest decision - Do I want quinoa or rice? Black pen or blue? Straight hair or curly today?
Watching your parent die feels like absolute hell.