How Writing Helped Me While Caring for Aging Parents with Cancer and COPD

Writing has always been therapeutic for me. When life becomes heavy with responsibility and fear, I turn to writing to process what I feel and to find a small place of calm inside my own mind. Three weeks ago, my mom’s oncologist told us that her cancer had returned and that she needs more aggressive chemotherapy. During the same time, my dad continues to battle COPD. He is on oxygen eighteen hours a day and uses a nebulizer for six hours daily. His medications are constant and, stubborn as a goat, he sometimes fights us when we try to help.

Learning to Care for Them and for Myself

I am learning how to embrace my role as a caregiver for my parents, but the harder part is learning to care for myself as well. Many caregivers experience a grief that hides quietly beneath the surface. We watch the people who once guided us begin to ask for help. It seems simple from the outside, but inside there is a knot that forms without warning.

The Hidden Grief of Watching Parents Age

We grieve what is changing. We grieve the loss of independence that slowly leaves their bodies. These moments are subtle. I remember noticing my parents age in small ways and occasionally feeling startled by how quickly time moved. Yet I never fully faced the truth of that loss. The pain lived beneath my awareness, waiting.

The Exhaustion Caregiving Brings

My sister and I take turns with doctor appointments. We manage medications. We cook meals and deliver them. We argue with insurance providers. My energy drains easily. My mom was diagnosed with CML leukemia in 2010. She nearly died from the early side effects of treatment, then survived through a clinical trial, fought hard, and lived beautifully. And yet setbacks return. They arrive not only for her, but for our entire family.

Writing a Will and Facing Inevitable Loss

Recently my mom asked me to help her write her will. We had spoken about it before but never completed it. She also asked me to choose items she wanted me to have one day. She handed me papers and pointed to things in the basement for me to load into my car. I stayed strong for her, but inside I felt the weight of what was coming. It felt like a quiet earthquake beneath my ribs.

Anticipatory Grief and the Pain That Comes Before Loss

I learned that what I was feeling had a name: anticipatory grief. It is the pain that comes before death, when we see what is coming but cannot change it. There is also a grief I think of as early grief. It grows slowly and quietly. It is the grief of responsibilities shifting, of independence fading, of losing time for ourselves, for children, for work, for life.

Why This Grief Can Break Caregivers Down

If ignored, this form of grief can wear down both mind and body. It can lead to depression, exhaustion, and a hollow sense of self. Studies show that thirty percent or more of caregivers die before their loved ones. That statistic is not abstract. It is a warning. Early grief is a powerful force, and when it is unspoken, it becomes dangerous.

Caring for Ourselves as Hard as We Care for Them

We need to become friends to ourselves. We need support. Caregiver groups, therapy, or even honest conversations can help keep us from drowning in sorrow we never named. The well of grief is deep. Caregivers suffer too. Their pain deserves space, recognition, and compassion.

To every caregiver moving through this season, I see you. I send peace and steadiness your way. Take care of yourself with the same fierceness you use to care for those you love.