The Emotional Side of Choosing Long-Term Care

Your mom asked for the third time where Dad is, and, yet again, you have to tell her he passed away 3 years ago and watch her heart break all over again. And sooner or later, there comes a point where you can’t do this on your own anymore. 

Looking at the situation from afar, you’d assume that choosing long-term care for your parents is a practical decision. But when you’re smack dab in the middle of it, you realize it feels like betrayal. 

So you look at brochures. 

They all call it “community living,” and every single page shows happy elders living their best lives. Amenities, activities, safety, these are just some of the words glossy brochures like to throw around. Unfortunately, no brochure will tell you you’ll be lying awake at 2 in the morning, wondering if you waited too long or gave up too soon. 

You won’t find anything about the logistics in this article because you can find that anywhere. 

We’ll focus on the other side – the stuff that goes on in your head and in your heart. 

Why This Decision Feels So Heavy

Every time you think about signing those papers, your stomach drops, and there’s a good reason for it. 

This isn’t logistics, nor does it have to do with anything like that. It’s what happens when the roles get reversed. You’re becoming the one to take care of them. You’re no longer the little child that you once were. You’re the parent now. You’re the one that’s now supposed to keep them safe.

Your whole life, it was your parents who were the ones in charge. 

They packed your lunch, signed permission slips, put clothes on your back – they took care of you, they made sure everything was ‘ok’. Now it’s you who makes the calls, and that’s not easy. The natural order of things seems to be knocked off balance. 

As if this isn’t hard on its own, you also worry about whether the move will make them decline faster. 

And there are all kinds of worries that consume you: What happens if they hate the food there? What if the staff is way too busy to notice their residents not eating properly? Or what if they’re understaffed?

You’re basically handing over one of the most important people in your life (if not THE most important) to a bunch of complete strangers. And naturally, you’re terrified. You’re terrified that they won’t be happy there. You’re terrified you’ll end up regretting this decision.

And make things even worse, you know that there are a bunch of relatives watching and judging in silence, from afar. Not approving of what you’re doing. 

They think you’re being selfish. 

But they don’t know what your life is REALLY like. They don’t. Still, they choose to judge you.

Now, there’s also a part that you don’t want to admit. Nobody does. It’s sort of a relief. Under all that fear and stress, there’s relief, and you feel guilty for feeling it. But the truth is, this will be the first time in who knows how long that you’re not the one responsible for wrestling them into the shower or calling out of work yet again because the sitter canceled. You catch yourself breathing easier, but immediately feel like you’re a terrible person because of it. 

Once the move is done, you start second-guessing. 

You replay the conversations you had and wonder if you should have waited for a few more months. You scroll through photos to check if they seemed happier before than they do now. You think about all those headlines talking about families preparing for a nursing home abuse case consultation and panic. 

This won’t go away overnight, but it will in time, especially if you can understand that you did what was right and not just for yourself. 

The Internal Conflict Nobody Likes to Talk About 

You’re sitting down on your couch. It’s 7 P.M., and you have absolutely nothing to do. 

For so long, you were entirely wrapped up in keeping someone alive, and now? Now you’re just you, and it seems like you have no idea who that is anymore. 

Maybe you once told your parents you’ll always take care of them. But somewhere along the way, you absorbed the message that if you end up not achieving this means that you’ve failed. 

When you think about the ‘money’ side of things, it all becomes infinitely worse. 

It’s a huge source of stress as it is, and now there’s another expense you need to cover. So you calculate what you can afford, what they can afford, what happens if the money runs out, and you’re also wondering if you’re making choices based on numbers. You can’t tell the difference anymore, and you hate it. 

Through all of this, you’re grieving. Yes, your parents are still here, and you can see them all the time, but that version of them that existed before is no longer here. 

This is a strange kind of grief that just kind of sits there, feeling heavy while you try to figure out how to handle your new role. 

Conclusion

The good news is that eventually, you’ll feel something shift inside you. 

You’ll start to realize that love doesn’t have to look the same to be the same, and you’ll learn to redefine your role. You’re still protecting your parents, you’re still showing up, only now you’re doing that differently. 

As messy and complicated as this all is, you’re here because you loved someone enough to make a hard choice. And that’s worth something.