Short Reads

When Caregiving Feels Heavy

Posted By Sarah Lewis |November 12, 2025

When Caregiving Feels Heavy: Recognizing Grief You Didn’t Know You Were Carrying

When you’re caring for someone you love, especially someone living with dementia or a long-term illness, there’s a process of loss that happens — even if no one has passed away. You’re watching memory fade, personality shift, or independence slip away. It’s hard to witness. Seeing your loved one — someone who was once a rock for you — now reliant on you, is an experience of loss. Watching your parent’s sparkle dim, or your partner forget your shared stories, can be devastating. That ache, that heaviness you can’t quite name — that’s grief. Many people believe grief only happens after death. But grief is part of the caregiving process itself — it’s woven into the daily act of loving someone through decline or change. We grieve the person they once were, and sometimes, we grieve the version of ourselves we had to set aside to care for them.

Loss Isn’t Always About Death

Beyond losing aspects of the person we love — their independence, their humour, their memory — caregivers often experience other kinds of loss. We grieve the life we thought we would have. Maybe you’ve wondered:

Can I still go for that promotion, or is it too much right now?
Could I even imagine having kids while caregiving intensifies?
We were planning to travel — what if something happens while I’m gone?

Choice, by its nature, involves sacrifice — and when those sacrifices pile up, they can leave us mourning the life we imagined. That’s grief too. There may also be a sense of loss for the relationship you thought you would get to have with your family member. Maybe you imagined the sunset of their life looking a certain way — sleepovers with grandkids, travelling together, or simply a time of life filled with new perspective and compassion for one another. If you feel that sense of missing out on what could have been, that too is grief.

My Story: Discovering “Ambiguous Grief”

My mom has an atypical presentation of Parkinson’s that includes dementia and aphasia. In the months after her diagnosis, I knew I was feeling low — but it was something more nuanced than sadness or depression. It felt strange to be in my thirties and experience an emotion that felt entirely new. With time and research, I came across the term ambiguous grief — the grief that happens when someone is both there and not there. No one had died, but I was feeling a deep sense of loss — of the person she was, and of all the future moments we wouldn’t share in the same way. Naming it changed my relationship with the feeling. Once I could say, “This is grief,” I could begin to work with it instead of fighting against it. That’s why I write about this. I know what it’s like to feel something heavy and unfamiliar, without having the words for it. Naming it can give you a way through.

Recognizing Grief in Yourself

Grief doesn’t always look like tears. It can show up as sadness, hopelessness, exhaustion, irritability, or a sense that something’s off but you can’t quite name it. Try asking yourself:

Do I feel like I’ve lost something?
Do I feel robbed of something I expected?

If you can fill in the blank — “I feel sad/angry/irritated because I have lost…” — you’re probably touching on grief. Once caregivers recognize what they’re feeling as grief, self-compassion often follows. Understanding that caregiving isn’t just a practical act, but a mental and emotional one, helps you see how much you’re carrying. Recognizing grief gives you permission to care for yourself within it — to read about grief, talk to someone, or simply allow yourself space on the hard days. Grief rewires your brain and reshapes your values. It often moves you toward what’s deeply meaningful — connection, time with loved ones, authenticity. It changes you, but it doesn’t have to break you. You have a say in how grief transforms you.

If This Resonates

If any of this feels familiar — if you’ve been feeling something heavy you can’t quite name — you’re not alone, and you’re not doing it wrong. You might just be grieving.