The hardest part is making the decision.

Sharing a slice of very real life on how to care for our parents as they (and we) get older.

Photo by Gert Stockmans on Unsplash

Hi and welcome to another free post from ‘Something More’. I’m Caroline Ferguson, mindset trainer, speaker, therapist and your companion on this wander through mindset, self-leadership and what ‘a life that matters’ might look like. This week’s article is about that life — and it’s very personal.

This hasn’t been the easiest few weeks

I’m so lucky to have reached a mature stage in life and still have both my parents. They’ve been married for an astonishing 65 years. In 2026 we’ll celebrate my Dad’s 90th birthday and Mum’s 88th.

During the last four years, while I’ve been roaming around the wilder parts of our home nations, I’ve been coming to rest in Scotland with my parents for three or four weeks every few months. I check on their wellbeing, sort out the stuff that need sorting out and set them up with whatever they need for the next few months.

The three of us love spending time together — but leaving is good too.

I stayed with my folks for a year during quarantine, the longest I’ve lived with them since I went to university at 18. We forged such a strong bond during that weird time.

When I visit them it’s lovely to be together, but a nine-foot square room containing a single bed, desk, chair and all my mountains of travelling gear isn’t the most comfortable long-term situation for someone who’s had her own home for over 35 years, and now spends most of her time deputising for the owners of large country properties. I think all three of us would admit that at times we went a little stir crazy towards the end of the virus era.

I’ve noticed my parents becoming more frail lately.

Both of them have several long-term ailments and one of my mother’s illnesses comes with painful flare-ups that can last for months. When she’s unwell, Dad is anxious and sad and our household becomes a subdued place.

They’re noticeably less mobile each time I see them. Their confidence is fading and my Dad has mostly turned over his admin affairs to me. They’ve always had lively minds but there too, they’re slowing down.

I’m so grateful that neither of my parents suffers from dementia, but recently I had a glimpse into what it would be like to care for someone in an advanced state of senility.

Did you know that when an elderly person has an infection, they can fall into an acute confusional state? I hadn’t a clue until it happened to Mum two weeks ago.

Her descent into disorientation and delirium was shockingly rapid and her cognitive functioning was pretty much gone for 48 hours. The doctor knew immediately what it was, thank heaven, and antibiotics worked relatively quickly to bring my Mum back.

It was a worrying time. My poor Dad was scared and distressed to see his sweetheart so confused. Mum was bewildered about her lost days and has been left with heightened levels of anxiety. I’m just relieved it happened while I was with them.

For some time I’ve been trying to normalise the conversation about the next stage of their lives.

I talk openly about my own end of life plans. Mum has been quite happy to join in the conversation but for a long time, my Dad would shy away from it. Then one day about a year ago, he surprised me by handing me a list of the readings and hymns he’d like for his funeral. Progress! Since then he’s been slowly opening up about this sensitive topic.

My folks want to continue living as independently as possible but it’s becoming clear that the day when they’ll need extra help is fast approaching. Mum was adamant that I shouldn’t have to give up my dreams to become their carer so we’ve been looking at the available options.

They’re not at the stage where they need residential care so we decided to explore the possibility of swapping their house for an apartment in a new, assisted-living complex, half an hour up the coast. I’m not sure what I was expecting when we toddled off to view the place last week, but it certainly wasn’t chic, hotel-style apartments, elegant lounge and fabulous sun terrace overlooking the harbour and the sea. A (delightful) warden is on site during normal working hours to help with any emergencies.

It was impressive but my folks weren’t too keen as it didn’t feel homely to them, plus it didn’t really have enough space for me to visit them easily. We tried not to feel discouraged as it was the first place we’d looked at, but having see in it, I was uneasy about whether assisted living would offer us enough future-proofing.

I hoped we had more time, but we don’t.

At my parents’ age, things can go very wrong, very quickly. My mother’s recent illness, and Dad’s anxiety around it, has brought an urgency to the discussion.

It’s also brought into sharp focus for me the realisation that the time for the assisted living option was probably ten years ago. Having someone on site to help out 40 hours a week won’t cut it if Mum is floored by an infection at 9pm on a Friday night, or Dad has another fall (the last one saw him needing seven stitches in his head).

On the surface it looks like they’re coping. They don’t need daily visits from carers as they’re able to take care of their own hygiene and food needs. But I know that if the time comes when they do need that support, they may not feel comfortable receiving it from strangers — and neither would I.

Mum’s given up driving after her recent scare and I sense that Dad is approaching that decision too. They’ve been prey to several scamming workmen, which has robbed them of confidence as well as money. The coping is really an illusion — you don’t have to look too closely to see that they’re finding ordinary life increasingly challenging.

The truth is, they’re very vulnerable. And that’s only heading in one direction

For several years I’ve been having a major tussle with myself.

In one corner there’s a strong desire to keep travelling and living this life of freedom that I enjoy so much.

In the other, there’s a weighty sense of duty and a deep-down belief that we have to step up and do what’s needed for the people we love.

I have two brothers, one who moved to Australia nearly two decades ago, and the other, who’s retired and living with his family 400 miles away from us. Realistically, neither of them can offer a full-time solution, as far as looking after our folks is concerned.

It’s hard to argue against the idea that a single daughter, unburdened by family ties, is the obvious answer to caring for elderly parents. It’s an accepted fact in many countries that daughters take on the job when the time comes.

Part of me has a kind of adolescent resistance to these expectations, plus advanced grief that the last chunk of my ‘youthfulness’ could be swallowed up by this duty of care.

Another part believes that of course I should be there for my folks, as they’ve been there for me through my childhood and beyond. It’s the natural order of things, isn’t it?

So far, I haven’t been able to resolve this dilemma — and until now I haven’t had to.

But last week I knew it was time to tackle my inner conflict via self-coaching.

I did what I always do when I need clarity. I took myself off to the beach and asked myself the three empowering questions I use in all my mindset training and therapy work with clients:

1️⃣ What’s the story I’m telling myself about the situation that’s leading me to feel like this?

2️⃣ What would be a better outcome for this situation?

3️⃣ What can I think and do to make the better outcome more likely to happen?

Answering the questions brought out what I needed to know, as it always does.

You can find out more about the three empowering questions and how they work in this article.

The hardest part of making a big decision is the long run-up.

Though my internal argument has been uncomfortably taking up space for at least a decade, making a decision about how to handle the next few years took less than a minute because there was a practical solution staring me in the face.

Once I committed to it, the inner clamour was mostly replaced by acceptance, albeit with a residue of grief (which I think is understandable).

That night, I hopped online and did some research around the solution that had arrived. The next morning I sat down with my parents and put it to them that if they were in agreement, I could move in with them, stretching the part-time caring role I’ve taken on in the last few years to (more or less) full time. They both looked quietly relieved at the idea that I might become their carer.

But there is a condition required for this solution to work: we would have to move house. As became very clear during quarantine, it’s not realistic for me to live and work full-time, possibly for years, in a small, crowded room. They both agreed that the proposed solution couldn’t work the way we’re currently set up.

I showed them the fruits of the property search I’d done the night before. Amazingly, there’s a house that meets our criteria just 150 yards from our front door.

We went to see it on Saturday. We all liked it and each of us can imagine living there. It doesn’t have the stunning estuary views of their current home, but it’s in a neighbourhood they know well, and where they feel safe; it’s close to their doctor’s surgery (crucial); and it has all the space we could need.

It’s not an easy option, though. They love their home and the idea of moving feels like a huge upheaval. My mother is more fully on board than Dad — after the first flush of positivity, he’s exercising his own inner resistance. I don’t want them to feel railroaded — we all have to be fully invested in this decision.

I think it’s happening.

An estate agent is coming to value our house tomorrow and we’ll decide this week whether to make an offer on the house across the road. There’s a long way to go before we can settle into a new place (whether the one we saw, or another). We have to sell ours and I’m committed to a few house-sits between now and mid July, so it’s unlikely that anything will happen quickly.

Then there’s caring for myself as well as my folks. If this is the way forward, I’ll set clear conditions for my brothers: they must step up and help out more actively than they do now. I don’t know exactly what that might look like yet, but when the time comes, I’ll be clear on my expectations. It’s crucially important, for my parents and for me, that I’m able to have regular time away and come back refreshed. It’s also a given that I’ll carry on with my mindset training work, which is an essential part of my ‘something more’.

So many are facing, or have made, big decisions about their parents’ care. Maybe you’re in the same boat? Please feel free to share your experiences with us in the comments.

One thing that makes everything easier is good connection and communication. We’re so lucky that my brilliant friend Alison Roberts, who runs Comms Lab, will be filling our first-ever guest presenter slot on the next mindset training session for paying subscribers.

Diary date: Wednesday 26th March, 1pm UK time.

The topic for Alison’s live coaching session is:

‘Wired for connection: decoding the invisible signals that shape relationships’

This isn’t about reading people; it’s about stepping into an expanded and more perceptive state where conversations flow, relationships strengthen, and deep insights and light bulb moments are the norm.

Alison will show us how to easily unlock this innate ability, so we can:

• connect faster

• navigate relationships with more confidence and authenticity

• and, ultimately, increase our impact.

Personally, I can’t wait to absorb some of Alison’s wisdom. I’ll be sending the Zoom link to paying subscribers next Monday. If you’re a free subscriber and you’d like to come along, simply upgrade and I’ll send you the joining details next week.

Please note, Alison will be joining us live from Bali so the session will take place at 1pm UK time (09:00am EDT, 06:00am PDT) on Wednesday 26th March, rather than our usual 8pm slot.

Thank you so much for reading this far.

I never take your time and attention for granted. As ever, I’m looking forward to reading your thoughts, experiences and questions in the comments. If you think others might benefit from reading this article, please do like and restack.

Until next time, take care,

PS - Paying members, look out for an email in your inbox next Monday with the Zoom link for Alison Roberts’ mindset training session, “Wired for connection”.