the hardest thing

Possibly the hardest thing for a daughter, for a son, for a child, is to have a sick parent.

The role reversal isn’t the killer.
It’s the fact that they (parents) are aware that they’re not up to the task of taking care of themselves. And that they have to depend on you. And that they can’t pretend anymore, like before, that they have everything under control.

Seeing someone who prized their independence be dependent is hard.

And the hardest thing, maybe, is that you feel you’ve failed them, or are failing them, and will pretty much be unsuccessful in maintaining the illusion that you can keep things from falling apart. That you can keep it together for the both of you or for all of you.

(And for the record, I’m not even the most cheerful person on a regular day.)

I wonder when we’ll stop pretending that we have everything under control and just lean on each other.

Adele knows your pain.

The good news: There are good days. Good days are the best.

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