5 Things That Help When Your Aging Parent Is in Crisis

The call comes and everything stops.

My mother has been in the hospital twice in six weeks. Sepsis both times. I live far away, and I have been doing what I suspect many of you do. I have been future-tripping. Running through every possible scenario. Trying to think my way to an outcome I cannot control.

I lead women’s circles and guide mindfulness meditation. I know how to breathe. I know that worrying about the future does not change it.

And still. The what ifs come anyway.

Here is what I am learning, imperfectly and in real time, about how to stay present when someone you love is in crisis.

The Uncertainty Is the Hardest Part, and That Is Okay to Say Out Loud

When my mother was in the hospital, one doctor said things were turning around. Another wasn’t sure. The information kept shifting, and I was hundreds of miles away trying to make decisions in the middle of it.

There is no way to prepare for that gap between what you know and what you need to know. What helps is naming it. Not knowing is hard. Say that out loud, to yourself or to someone who can hear it. It doesn’t fix anything. But it stops you from pretending the uncertainty isn’t there, which takes more energy than you have right now.

You Are Allowed to Ask Whether You Need to Go Right Now

Should I go now, or wait until I am needed more? I had just been there. I feel exhausted from all the ups and downs of this. And there is a part of me, one I am still learning to listen to, that tells me to stay home where I can take care of myself and feel somewhat safe in my body.

That is not a selfish question. That is a real one. Being honest with yourself about what you can sustain is not abandonment. It is how you stay in this for the long run, because this is often a long run.

Each Crisis Is Teaching You Something

Think of each hospital stay as a dress rehearsal. Not to minimize what is happening, but because you need a framework for the fear. Each time, you learn something you didn’t know before. Which questions to ask. Which decisions can wait and which cannot. How to read between the lines of what the doctors are saying.

You are becoming, slowly and imperfectly, more capable. Not less afraid. More capable. Those are different things, and it helps to know that.

You Are Allowed to Have Happy Moments

This is the one that surprised me. I used to feel guilty stepping away from the worry, as if enjoying my morning or my walk or my dog was somehow a betrayal of how serious things were.

It is not. Joy is not the opposite of love. It is what sustains you so you can keep showing up. Let yourself have the good moments. They are not a sign that you don’t care. They are how you survive this.

Presence Is a Practice, Not a Destination

Many of us think that if we could just get good enough at being present, the fear would stop. It doesn’t work that way. Presence is not a place you arrive at and stay. It is something you practice, and lose, and practice again. Sometimes in the same hour.

Worrying about what might happen does not change what will happen. It only takes you out of the life you are living right now, which is the only life you actually have.

My mother is being cared for. I am doing everything I can from where I am. And today, right now, in this moment, that has to be enough.

Let’s Have a Conversation:

Have you had to make difficult decisions about a loved one from miles away? Did you feel that you were helping? What peace of mind is there for those living far from aging parents?