As an only child, I am in a unique position to care for my aging parents. While I do get to make all the decisions without having to consult or argue with siblings or other relatives, it’s so stressful and time-consuming having to do it all alone.

Having grown up with low effort parents and no real relationship since I became an independent adult, it’s hard to reconcile how much my parents rely on me now. I feel guilty taking time away from my own family to deal with my ungrateful and noncompliant parents. It’s complicated and hard to explain to outsiders who can’t imagine ever being in this scenario. I will never let my parents go without and I will always provide the highest care and satisfy every whim I can, even though they never did the same for me or my children. It’s also hard living in Ohio and having them live in Georgia.

They say it takes three incidents for aging adults to realize they need assistance. I guess my parents were in absolute denial. I should have intervened sooner, but I’m not sure how else I could’ve forced the issue. It was bad enough when it came to the crisis point in December 2024.

Some history and timeline:

The last time we saw my parents was when they visited the kids and me for Christmas, when my husband was deployed in 2018. I think my father was already experiencing some memory decline then. The visit was a shock and surprise and the only real memory my kids have.

In August 2020, I was informed I should not come down to assist my parents when my mother fell in teh back yard and broke her sternum.

In September 2020, my mother tripped over the vacuum cord and bruised her face and eye really, really badly.

In December 2022, and ongoing, my father had shoulder issues and my mother had spinal issues. At some point, my father had shoulder surgery.

In January 2023, when I posed some difficult questions and concerns, my father informed me they would never leave their tri-level house.

In March 2023, my father fell in the bathroom.

In April 2023, my mother fell in her bedroom.

In June 2023, I was told no when I asked could I come help when my mother had spinal surgery.

Over the years, I asked about a will and POA and legal paperwork because I couldn’t remember if or what they had completed years ago. They ignored me.

I had asked if they planned to downsize or even move into someplace smaller and more accessible. They refused to discuss anything.

I don’t think my parents had any quality of life for at least five years and it’s been very frustrating trying to get information.

I expected a whole mess when and if there were ever an emergency with one or both of my parents.

Then, I got the call in December 2024.

When I arrived to deal with my mother’s stroke, I was surprised by so many things.

So much medicine, lots of it expired. There was an entire room in their basement filled with empty cardboard boxes. They had huge black trash bags filled with grocery store bags. They had a pantry full of expired, rancid, stale food and leftovers in the fridge that were months old. There were so many brand new clothing items, often multiples of the same item, still with tags, in all different sizes, from different years and seasons. My mother easily had twenty pairs of the exact same pair of shoes.

All day long, they sat in their recliners with the music channel on their TV, had toast for a late breakfast, ate canned soup for a late lunch, sometimes TV dinners or nothing. My father got the mail every day and took out the trash can to the curb each week. They had grocery delivery from Walmart. They went to Walgreen’s to pick up pills every week. They went to doctors frequently. They hoarded their material goods and money in the bank.

It would be easy to care for aging parents if they would allow me to help and if they would communicate and work with me, in the knowledge that I want the best for them.

Every family is different and people age at different rates based on their lifestyle, diet, exercise, habits, interests, activities.

My husband is turning 50 this year and we have learned so much about how we need to get our lives in order to make things easier for our kids as we age or in case of an emergency.

Estate planning is not just for rich people. I don’t want to leave anything to chance or the state or have my kids deal with months of probate court. I want to make all my decisions and preferences known. I want my kids not to have to worry or make any difficult decisions.

Caring for Aging Parents

Every state is different in how they handle estates upon incapacity or death. Some states have filial laws.

Legal

It’s super important to make sure legal paperwork is in order as parents age. It’s difficult for some people to discuss end of life decisions. This shouldn’t wait. The sooner it’s handled, the better and there are fewer questions if there is an emergency or incapacity.

I am so grateful that my parents paid an estate lawyer twenty years ago to put myself and my husband as financial and property POA, and also created a living trust, living will, non-resuscitation instructions, filed their property will to avoid probate. It’s made everything so much easier.

We very quickly sold both their cars and put their house on the market. Thankfully the house sold within two months.

Financial

In addition to estate planning paperwork, it’s super important to have all financial accounts accessible.

Years ago, my parents added me to their banking accounts in case of emergency so I would have access and control and to help with their estate and taxes.

The POA doesn’t grant access to bank accounts.

We provided two doctor letters showing incapacity to the bank and credit card companies since the POA paperwork shows my parents acting for each other and then myself and husband as contingency (which is good and normal). They are still living, but are incapacitated, residing in assisted living memory care and cannot make any decisions.

Update beneficiaries on all investments and get copies as proof.

Insurance

It’s important to revisit medical insurance accounts to make sure there is enough medical coverage as we age longer and our bodies break in so many new and exciting ways.

Thankfully, my parents have Tricare, Blue Cross, and Medicare, so they pay very little for their medical care – mostly just copays for prescriptions. It has been educational having to navigate all the claims and bills and statements since we only have Tricare as a military family and all our medical needs are taken care of on the base.

Some life insurance can be cashed out after like age 62 to help cover aging costs or payoff bills. But make sure there are no lapses in coverage or reduction in value.

Medicine

It’s important to keep all medicines in order and have records of current prescriptions and recommended over-the-counter drugs and also interaction concerns, like foods or drinks that should be avoided.

My father didn’t even really understand the meds he was on or why.

It’s important to have a partner or care giver, someone to know what meds we are on and why.

I don’t take any prescription drugs and my husband only takes a couple daily, so it’s not very complicated for us at this time.

Downsizing

I hope I realize when I begin to have difficulty walking up and down the stairs in our house and perhaps it will be time to downsize or go into a transition living situation.

We have so much stuff, a lifetime of twenty years, in addition to important items from my parents’ 83 years, my paternal grandparents’ items, and many items from my husband’s parents (who passed twenty years ago during our first year of marriage) and also his grandparents. It is a lot of stuff.

I’m constantly cleaning and organizing and purging and storing items securely to make it easier on everyone in the future. We reevaluate often: what do we love, what can we let go of, what can we store away? We do not have a storage unit. We have a 4 bedroom house with a finished basement and small cellar. There are so many things I can’t part with yet.

Communication

It’s important to have a plan – multiple plans – in case of emergency, in case of incapacity, in case of decline. Who is the emergency contact? Who is in charge to discern and communicate to family that it’s time to intervene for the safety of the elderly family member?

We have fire-proof safes with files and lots of instructions and information in case something happens.

My parents were in denial for years that they were aging and declining and refused to communicate with me about their future, that very obviously affects me and my family and now is almost all-consuming for ensuring they are safe and cared for. I didn’t even have a house key or know where anything was inside my parents’ house when I arrived six months ago. I had to wing it and make up every little thing along the way.

Assistance

I’m sure it’s hard to realize it’s time to ask for help.

My parents were not ready to give up their independence at age 82, with my father’s failing memory, and my mother’s frail body. They would have preferred to decline with no quality of life, while maintaining their control and independence. It would have been so much easier and better for everyone if they had admitted it was time to seek assistance, downsizing, moving into a facility.

I hope to have a much better relationship with my kids as they grow up and away, so they will surely understand when it’s time and I don’t have tantrums about it. There is an option for a legacy interview so we can record instructions for ourselves and children in the future.

The estate lawyer we met with has a health decision grid that leaves nothing to chance and I can tell my kids what I want and when and for this we are thankful. In a decade, I can add a specific dementia instruction in case that need arises.

Memory Care

I feel that our society doesn’t really have a system in place that helps families plan for aging adults with physical or cognitive or memory issues.

No one is ever prepared for memory loss nor for the paranoia and aggression that may accompany it.

During the month I was stuck in the house with my parents after my mother’s stroke, desperately begging for doctors, nurses, therapists, the VA helpline, police, or a social worker to help, I was told there was nothing anyone could do while I navigated it all alone, but I needed doctor signatures to admit them to assisted living. Their primary care refused to sign.

I am disappointed that none of the medical professionals took responsibility for my parents’ inability to care for themselves. They were in a dangerous situation and I was desperate. I’m angry that there are no helpful services in place to help adult children with aging parents who refuse care.

There are few instructional manuals or good information for caregivers or children having to navigate caring for parents with dementia. There was no option for me to leave my parents in their home, even with nursing care. Two assisted living homes refused their admission because they were not locked down enough to ensure safety for my parents.

I’ve spent the last six months in near daily communication with their care home, a hospice care team for my father when he refused to leave his bed, then traveling to Georgia to clean out their house twice, and deal with a hip replacement and rehab and therapy for my mother.

Then she fell and dislocated her new hip last week and now she is on bed rest. Thankfully, this qualified her also for the hospice care. They now have a great care team helping them with hygiene and daily needs.

They still seem to think their living circumstances are temporary and that they will get better and go home within the year. They seem to think they live in a hotel or rehab center.

Neighbors have visited and either do not understand the situation but riles my parents up, when they have wondered why there is no in-room TV or other conveniences and wish my parents still had possession of their cell phones. Even a nurse recently asked if I could get them a TV or a radio or books. I had provided them a CD radio from day one, but my parents asked me to remove it. There are two large TVs in the facility. My parents were frustrated navigating the remote control in their home, and there really is just no room for a TV in their room. They had no quality of life before but at least now they are safe.

My father is mostly sullen and silent and stays in bed except for a meal or two each day. I’m sad, but he didn’t do much else six months ago, for probably the last several years. He just sat in his recliner all day, every day.

My mother is either in denial or doesn’t understand that my father has more advanced dementia. She gets very frustrated with him. They share a room and he isn’t capable of helping her. When she fell these two times, he just stared at her – unwilling, unable, or too confused to know how to get help. They don’t like having people come into their room, but then she will complain she is not checked on enough. I had to buy a little nanny cam to keep up with what they do in their room.

The only thing my mother cares about is what I can buy her – shoes, shirts, apple juice. I use Walmart delivery and have had to buy them a little fridge for their drinks and snacks along with a plastic storage drawer for their pullups, wipes, and pads. She won’t speak to me on the phone nor has she ever asked any questions about their estate. She complains to anyone who will listen that I took away her perfume and cell phone.

I’ve waited all my adult life to reconcile and have relationship with my parents. I mourn the loss of grandparents in my children’s lives.

It’s been very hard for me to realize my parents are low effort family. They never wanted a relationship with me or my children. And now, it’s officially too late.

It saddens me that we have and will hit milestones that they will never see.

You might also like:

• Going Home for the Last Time
• Adult Daughter
• My Father is a Racist
• Grieving Family Who Are Still Alive

Resources:

• A Dementia Caregiver Called to Action: The Journey by Dr. Macie P. Smith
• The Essential Guide to Dementia Caregiving: 70 Vital Tips for Caregivers to Know by Lindsay White
• Adult Survivors of Emotionally Abusive Parents: How to Heal, Cultivate Emotional Resilience, and Build the Life and Love You Deserve by Dr. Sherrie Campbell
• The Highly Sensitive Person: How to Thrive When the World Overwhelms You by Elaine N. Aron
• The Highly Sensitive Child: Helping Our Children Thrive When the World Overwhelms Them by Elaine N. Aron
• The Empath’s Survival Guide: Life Strategies for Sensitive People by Judith Orloff
• The Dance of Anger: A Woman’s Guide to Changing the Patterns of Intimate Relationships by Harriet Lerner
• The Dance of Connection: How to Talk to Someone When You’re Mad, Hurt, Scared, Frustrated, Insulted, Betrayed, or Desperate by Harriet Lerner
• Will I Ever Be Good Enough?: Healing the Daughters of Narcissistic Mothers by Karyl McBride
• The Search for Significance: Seeing Your True Worth Through God’s Eyes by Robert S. McGee
• Boundaries: When to Say Yes, How to Say No To Take Control of Your Life by Henry Cloud and John Townsend
• Raising An Emotionally Intelligent Child by John Gottman

I got the call that no one wants to get on the afternoon of December 12, 2024.

A police officer called me at home to inform me my mother had a stroke and my father was confused and frantic with worry.

I tried to get all the necessary information from the policeman and my dad.

Emory University Hospital had called for a well check when they couldn’t reach my father by phone to get approval for an MRI.

My father said my mom fell and hit her head really bad while they were at a cabin in the mountains to look at flowers. In December. He said he took her to the nearest hospital and that she had been transferred. He claimed she was having surgery. This all sounded so odd to me. Why were my elderly parents in the mountains on a vacation so near Christmas and they told no one they were traveling and probably shouldn’t be driving at all?

I knew it was time.

My adult daughter and I drove from Dayton, Ohio, to Atlanta, Georgia. we didn’t know what we were walking into. We brought funeral clothes. We were terrified.

My father was given written directions to Emory University Hospital by the policeman. He also practiced calling me on my mom’s cell phone. I didn’t know what else to do. He wouldn’t use Uber or a taxi or wait for me. The policeman seemed confident that all was well.

What happened after that is stranger than fiction.

It was not well at all.

My dad never made it to Emory. He got very lost. I was trapped in a nightmare, trying to get to Georgia as soon as we could. It took three hours for my husband to coach him back home with multiple hang-ups and call drops. The traffic was “horrendous” and my father was confused and upset. I’m not sure how he managed to get home by himself the previous night.

My daughter and I arrived at my parents’ house late, after 10 PM. We didn’t know what to expect. Would the house be dark and locked? Was my father safe, asleep, or awake? Did he remember we were coming? Would he pull my grandpa’s .38 on me, thinking we were intruders? The policeman told him to put a key for me under the front door mat, but it wasn’t there.

Luckily, the lights were on, the garage door was up, and my dad was just sitting in his chair, watching TV.

He was so visibly relieved to see me and my daughter. I think he knew he was safe and we would take care of him and take him to visit his wife the next day.

We found three messages on the answering machine from my mother over the last two days and two messages from a nurse. He missed all those calls because he had been driving around, lost in Atlanta, the suburbs, almost to the South Carolina border, confused and worried – for two afternoons.

We asked for clarification for what had happened with my mother.

He told us they were sitting in their chairs, watching TV, when she started breathing strangely and looking oddly and wouldn’t answer him. He thought she was just snoozing, but “after four hours, he called 911.” He tried to follow the ambulance to the local ER, but got lost. He doesn’t know how he got home. Then he got lost trying to go to Emory in Atlanta, then lost again getting back home.

We all went to bed and got up the next morning. I called the nurse who had left a message and we spoke to my mother. Everyone was so relieved. I drove us all to visit my mother. Traffic in Atlanta is always stressful, but my father claimed it was “horrendous traffic” if he saw two cars nearby on the road.

My mother didn’t even understand the timeline, had thought she had been in the hospital for weeks.

My mother was very concerned about their monthly bills. She had never set up any payments for autopay, but did every little thing each month on her schedule. I logged into all her accounts and set up autopay. They had always complained they were on a fixed income, never had any money. Their idea of “having no money” is certainly very far from my idea of living paycheck to paycheck my entire adult life.

Physically, my mother is doing amazing. She hardly has any stroke symptoms. After several tests, she was cleared medically.

My mother’s hospital doctor refused to release her to come home unless I had a plan in place for her care. I was told they both should be in assisted living ASAP.

My parents refused and had sworn for years that they would never move out of their house. This humongous house was never my home. They sold the home I remember when I got married and moved away from Georgia. I have no memories of anything meaningful.

My daughter decided to stay to care for my parents. Everyone seemed excited about the plan. We thought maybe finally we could develop a relationship, forgive, and make some nice memories.

I made regular doctor appointments for Friday for both my parents. It was good I got a medical record update.

I learned my father had a memory change diagnosis in 2022. So, I think it was more like 2018 that he started showing symptoms, and I think it’s been bad for both of them since then and they never told me.

I didn’t realize the confusion for both my parents was so far gone. The stroke most likely exacerbated my mother’s mental condition. My father seemed to lose more and more of himself each day, like he didn’t have to hold back anymore.

It was like it went from zero to sixty in three days. They fed off each other and turned into the horrors I remember from a teenager. They were mean and nasty and name-calling and abusive. They screamed at me and threatened me and my daughter.

We didn’t realize how much care they both needed.

I knew I had to take over for my parents’ safety and well-being. I had assumed we could transition them into assisted living over the next year. We soon realized that was impossible.

Of course it got worse.

Because after my father called the police six times in five days, accusing me of all sorts of horrible misdeeds, I had to prove over and over that in spite of having virtually no relationship nor communication with my parents, they had indeed granted me control of their lives for this very instance that these events called for.

Thankfully, I found the binders in the office closet with copies of their wills, living trusts, POAs. My husband and I were joint POA, having been granted this privilege twenty years ago. I had been on their banking accounts for at least two decades.

I very quickly learned that no one would help me. The medical professionals kept informing me I needed neurology referrals. The police informed me they couldn’t do anything for me, my daughter, my husband, my parents unless there was an active murder or suicide taking place. The mental health hotlines couldn’t do anything other than talk to me with very condescending conversation or vet emergency services calls.

It was all so frustrating.

My daughter went back to Ohio and my husband joined me in Georgia.

They both were quite shocked to realize all the horror stories I have told them are all true. I am not just a spoiled only child who thought her parents were strict. My parents are abusive, emotionally immature, narcissistic and selfish.

I started keeping records of every little thing to build a case for assisted living. I didn’t realize how arduous a journey it would be to get them admitted.

I found and hid his guns and ammo in separate spots in the basement. It was sickening how much he had.

I hid all the car keys since it was obvious neither should drive anymore. I was told I needed a neurologist statement to take to DMV to make this official.

I barricaded the office and hid all their medicines so my father couldn’t pop Tylenol like candy.

My father could barely prepare toast or cereal or canned soup. He refused to eat anything I cooked.

She didn’t want to use her walker.

They both refused to bathe.

He started refusing to take his meds, claiming he didn’t know what I was giving him or why. He stopped sleeping and his eye got infected and I could tell he was feeling very bad.

I couldn’t convince my parents they needed more help than I could give them. They claimed they didn’t need any help. They just screamed I was stealing their cars and money. They didn’t want to see me. They wanted me to leave their house. I was trapped in two rooms and couldn’t leave them alone for their safety. My husband didn’t really understand or know what to do. No one was safe.

Two care homes refused to accept them since their dementia symptoms were too much. It took over thirteen days from home assessment to admission to the memory care facility.

Oh, and this entire ordeal happened over the Christmas and New Year holidays.

And no one works weekends either. My four kids spent the holidays alone. It was the longest I have ever been away from them. I was devastated. I was torn from having to do this for my own conscience even though my parents didn’t “deserve” my time or effort.

I had to do everything by phone and online. Their regular doctors refused to sign any paperwork. I had to contact the hospital doctor to sign for my mother. The facility had their contracted NP sign for my father. I had to get a mobile phlebotomist for TB tests and wait almost four days for those results. I had to sneak into their wallets for photos of their IDs and insurance cards.

I had to lie to get my parents in the car to drive them to the facility, telling them the doctor wanted to discuss their lab results. They were extremely anxious on the drive.

My father realized where we were after a few moments and started screaming at me so the nurse had to sneak me out a back door like I was Elvis.

I had to rush to pack up all their bedding and necessaries since I hadn’t been able to plan anything like a normal daughter with normal parents. It took multiple trips back and forth, thirty minutes one way.

My father refused to look at me. My mother turned on her charm for appearances, like always, but demanded items from home or for me to purchase. I told them I was driving back home, but I don’t know if they really understood.

They have enough income and savings and investments to pay for their own care in the memory care home for like fifty years. They have three medical insurances. But it’s frustrating for me to navigate all the bills for their care – the private memory care facility monthly fee, the prescription service monthly fee, the visiting nurse practitioner fees. And the recommended private home care aide for my father since he is still refusing to shower or eat.

We drove home to Ohio on 11 January. It was the first time seeing that Ohio sign on the river bridge that it felt like home to me.

It’s now been almost two months. My mother has called twice and I get texts from the director for my mother’s shopping list of snacks, drinks, underwear.

I am nothing but the keeper of funds now.

It’s both better and also worse than it ever was. I lost parents I never really had in the first place. There is no hope for reconciliation now. My kids never had grandparents.

This was the hardest thing I ever had to do, and it was made that much harder since my parents hate me.

You might also like:

• Adult Daughter
• My Father is a Racist
• Grieving Family Who Are Still Alive

Resources:

• The Highly Sensitive Person: How to Thrive When the World Overwhelms You by Elaine N. Aron
• The Highly Sensitive Child: Helping Our Children Thrive When the World Overwhelms Them by Elaine N. Aron
• The Empath’s Survival Guide: Life Strategies for Sensitive People by Judith Orloff
• The Dance of Anger: A Woman’s Guide to Changing the Patterns of Intimate Relationships by Harriet Lerner
• The Dance of Connection: How to Talk to Someone When You’re Mad, Hurt, Scared, Frustrated, Insulted, Betrayed, or Desperate by Harriet Lerner
• Will I Ever Be Good Enough?: Healing the Daughters of Narcissistic Mothers by Karyl McBride
• The Search for Significance: Seeing Your True Worth Through God’s Eyes by Robert S. McGee
• Boundaries: When to Say Yes, How to Say No To Take Control of Your Life by Henry Cloud and John Townsend
• Raising An Emotionally Intelligent Child by John Gottman