Why We Fear Aging | Blog 5 of 15 in the Soulfull Aging series
Let’s start at the beginning.
Change is nothing new.
We learn to adapt from a young age.
As children, we are guided by our parents.
As adults, we guide our own children—and eventually, we guide our aging parents.
Life is full of transitions.
But aging is a different kind of change.
It is definite.
It is confronting.
And it often comes with hard, emotional decisions.
You might have to take away someone’s car keys.
Move them out of their home.
Sort out legal matters, finances, care plans.
All while emotions are rising.
What people fear most isn’t just death.
It’s the process.
The slow loss of independence.
The fear of watching someone you love become dependent, vulnerable, or confused.
The fear of getting it wrong—of making a choice that can’t be undone.
And underneath it all, there are often unresolved family stories:
words never said, wounds never healed, forgiveness still waiting.
Aging exposes all of it.
And no one gets to stay in their comfort zone.
The Sacred Messengers: Fear, Grief, and Anger
Fear often comes first.
Fear of what’s changing.
Fear of what’s ahead.
It hides in the quiet questions:
What if I can’t handle this? What if it gets worse?
Fear makes us tense. But if we listen, it can prepare us.
Grief is often misunderstood.
It’s not just what we feel after someone dies.
It shows up in the small losses:
When a parent forgets your name.
When they no longer recognize home.
When the roles reverse, and you become the caregiver.
Grief is the silent heartbreak of watching things slip away.
And then there’s anger.
Anger often masks what’s underneath.
I’ve seen it come out as shouting, blame, even threats.
But beneath that anger is often helplessness.
The pain of not being able to fix things.
The exhaustion that comes from trying.
Why This Chapter Matters
Most of us are not taught how to sit with these emotions.
We avoid them.
We avoid the mess.
We avoid the hard conversations.
But that avoidance has a cost.
Often, we lose the very connection and peace we’re longing for.
This chapter is not a how-to guide.
It’s an invitation.
To pause.
To feel.
To let fear, grief, and anger speak—so they don’t build up inside you.
Because if there’s one thing I’ve learned in 25 years at the bedside, it’s this:
We need to talk about it.
Aging and dying are not just medical events.
They are deeply human, emotional journeys.
And we walk them better when we walk them together.
Comments
Post a Comment