“30 Years Ago, I Raised 5 Children: Now None of Them Want to Help Their Aging Parents”

Thirty years ago, my life was a whirlwind of diapers, school runs, and bedtime stories. I have five children—two daughters and three sons. Back then, my days were filled with the chaos and joy that comes with raising a large family. My husband and I worked tirelessly to provide for our kids, ensuring they had everything they needed to grow up happy and healthy.

Fast forward to today, and my children are all grown up. They have their own lives, careers, and families. While I am proud of the adults they have become, I can’t help but feel a deep sense of disappointment and loneliness. None of them seem to want to help or take care of their aging parents.

My relationship with my daughters, Emily and Sarah, has always been complicated. Emily moved to another state for college and never came back. She has a successful career and a family of her own now. We talk occasionally, but our conversations are often superficial. She rarely visits, and when she does, it’s usually for a short time.

Sarah, on the other hand, lives closer but is always busy. She has three kids and a demanding job. Whenever I ask for help, she tells me she’s too busy or makes excuses. I understand that she has her own responsibilities, but it hurts to feel like I’m not a priority in her life.

My sons, Michael, David, and John, are even more distant. Michael is a workaholic who barely has time for his own family, let alone his aging parents. David moved to another country for work and only comes home for the holidays. John is the youngest and still finding his way in life. He lives nearby but is often too preoccupied with his own problems to offer any real support.

My husband passed away five years ago, and since then, I’ve felt increasingly isolated. The house that was once filled with laughter and noise now feels empty and silent. I struggle with daily tasks and often feel overwhelmed by the simplest of chores. I’ve tried reaching out to my children for help, but their responses are always the same—too busy, too far away, too preoccupied.

I’ve even considered moving into a retirement home, but the thought of leaving the house where I raised my children breaks my heart. This home is filled with memories—both good and bad—and I can’t imagine spending my final years anywhere else.

I often wonder where I went wrong. Did I not teach them the importance of family? Did I fail to instill in them the value of caring for their parents? Or is this just the way life is now—everyone too busy with their own lives to care for anyone else?

As I sit here writing this, I can’t help but feel a deep sense of sadness. I gave everything I had to raise my children, and now that I need them the most, they are nowhere to be found. It’s a lonely existence, one that I wouldn’t wish on anyone.

I hope that one day my children will realize the importance of family and come back to me. But until then, I will continue to navigate this lonely journey on my own, holding on to the memories of happier times.