Q. My mum was diagnosed with incurable cancer seven years ago. It has been the hardest thing I’ve experienced to see her go through this illness, trialling new treatment after treatment, often left sick and bed-bound because of the intense side-effects of the meds or the illness. I’m lucky enough to have an incredible support network of friends who I have leant on for comfort, love and laughter during this dark time. I’m 28, and many of my friends are starting to move away to other countries for work or travel. I could never leave my mum — her condition is so unstable, and I don’t want to waste any of the time I have left with her. However, I am terrified of being left alone and missing out on the last years of my twenties. I feel like a terrible person for thinking this when my mum is going through what she is, but I can’t shake the sadness every time a friend tells me of their exciting plans. What do I do?
A. OK, first things first. You are not a terrible person. You are a good, thoughtful person who is managing a terrible thing at an age when you really shouldn’t be having to manage terrible things. The terrible things of your twenties should be unemployment, boys who are always online but never text back, flatmates who don’t take the bins out. Getting your card declined. Not owning a mop, that sort of thing. It is totally normal that you are worrying that you are missing out on your twenties. You can want to be present for your mother in her time of need while wanting to have fun and make the most of being young. Don’t give yourself a hard time for these thoughts, not for a second.
I think when we’re in a state of extreme stress we look for extreme solutions as an antidote. It makes total sense that the thing you envy your friends for is their freedom to move or work abroad. But you don’t have to move to a different country to see the world. You can take a holiday, you can travel. I think moving abroad is a yardstick we use as a theoretical test of how free we are, irrespective of whether we would want to do it. I know so many couples who have talked about moving to Berlin for half a decade, and then have a baby and spend the next half-decade intermittently complaining about not being able to move to Berlin, despite never having taken steps to move there, other than saying repeatedly at parties: “We’re thinking of moving to Berlin.”
The other thing to remember is that moving to a different country sounds like a carefree thing, but in reality it is often filled with administrative hassle and anxiety about meeting new people and forming friendships. I know I’m sounding down on moving abroad, I’m really not — I know so many people who have loved the experience, and perhaps that experience is ahead of you too. I just think it’s important to consider the reality of moving to a different country versus what moving to a different country represents to you in relation to looking after a parent with a terminal illness.
I think what you’re looking for is escape, a feeling of freedom, youth and fun. And you can factor those in while remaining in this country and being available for your mum. For example, could you block off Thursday night, Friday night, Saturday daytime and Saturday night for you to do the stuff that every other 28-year-old is doing. That doesn’t have to be going out partying or going on dates — this time could allow for sitting around, ordering a takeaway and watching crap TV with a group of friends. And could you plan some trips? If you’re worried about being needed if there was an emergency with your mum you could book a series of long weekends to look forward to with friends — by the sea in the UK, or European city breaks.
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That way you can keep yourself rested and fill your life with moments of fun, so you can give all your energy to your mum when you spend your cordoned-off time with her. I am sure she would want this for you. I think it’s worth being aware of time that’s for her and time that’s for you, and not breaking those boundaries unless there is an emergency.
Another thing to remember is that all of us, at some stage, will face something that means we will feel as though our life is on hold while we work through it. You are sadly going through it much earlier than most. I’m resistant to finding a bright side, because there is no bright side to losing a parent prematurely, and I don’t want to be glib, but I do know that this is a difficult phase of your life that will not last for ever. You will be altered at the end of it, in many different ways. Your appreciation of life and all its opportunities, I’m sure, will be sharpened. And you’ll have the time and the freedom to enjoy all of it.
To get your life dilemma answered by Dolly, email or send a voice note to deardolly@sundaytimes.co.uk or DM @theststyle
