Encouragement for Adult Children of Divorce Caring for a Sick Parent
The Visitation of the Sick from the Seven Acts of Mercy by Francken II., Frans - Slovak national gallery, Slovakia - Public Domain.
“Although I have lived through much darkness, I have seen enough evidence to be unshakably convinced that no difficulty, no fear is so great that it can completely suffocate the hope that springs eternal in the hearts of the young… Do not let that hope die! Stake your lives on it! We are not the sum of our weaknesses and failures; we are the sum of the Father’s love for us and our real capacity to become the image of His Son.” ~ Pope St. John Paul II [1]
These words, spoken by St. John Paul II during his homily for World Youth Day in Toronto in 2002, may seem like an unlikely way to begin a blog post on caring for an ill parent as an adult child of divorce. However, having closely followed the recent Jubilee of Youth in Rome, memories of my journey back to faith as a young adult, after a period of atheism, have been flooding my heart and mind.
After the chaos of my parents’ divorce, I struggled to believe that a loving God existed. As a Gen Xer and a member of the JPII Generation, the wisdom of the late Holy Father was instrumental in my life during those formative years after I returned to the Church. His words and teachings captured my imagination and penetrated my heart, which felt shredded from those deep wounds that children of divorce know all too well. Although the trials that St. John Paul II lived through may have been different from ours, we too can say that we have lived through much darkness. His words speak to our circumstances, too.
Although I have experienced much healing since returning to the Church, there are certain situations that can re-open past wounds and bring old pain back to the surface. Taking care of my father in his illness is one such situation.
Forty-six years after my parents’ divorce, my father is facing Lewy Body Dementia in a nursing home. He’s been battling this disease for about eight years, and I have gathered a few insights along the way that I would like to share.
Understand That You Are Carrying More Than One Cross
Everyone knows that taking care of a terminally ill parent brings grief and stress. Our heart breaks with each decline, and we mourn each loss they experience. At the same time, we may be advocating for their needs in the nursing home, serving as their ears and voice at doctor appointments, managing their finances, stepping in where the nursing facility falls short, listening to their fears, and simply doing our best to be present and to encourage them. This is what it means to be a caregiver.
But for adult children of divorce, there is also a second cross we carry in the form of old wounds that resurface. For example, we may face caregiving alone, which can cause us to grieve anew the loss of our family of origin. Even if many years have passed since our parents’ divorce, this loss can feel ever-present.
Sometimes, both parents need help, but we cannot be in two places at once. This can make us feel as if we need to choose between our parents, reawakening fears and confusion from childhood that we thought were behind us.
Since this second cross remains invisible, this may remind us of how our pain, often lost beneath our parents’ grief, was frequently overlooked in the aftermath of the divorce. We may try to explain to others this added layer of grief only to be met with misunderstanding, and once again feel that our pain is being minimized.
In addition, we may feel as if we lost part of our childhood to divorce and now, due to a lack of support, we may be losing another season in life.
Recognizing how these wounds affect us is important when we are caring for a sick parent. It allows us to name the pain, seek the right support, and understand the places where we need deeper healing.
This awareness can open our hearts to new levels of grace.
Illness Brings Opportunities for Deeper Forgiveness and Healing
As we persevere, the Lord remains faithful. He brings healing that unfolds slowly over time, often in layers. As painful memories and emotions resurface, we are given the opportunity to forgive more completely and to bring these memories to the Lord for deeper healing.
It has been said that in divorce, children pick up the crosses their parents lay down. The divorce may have ended the marriage, but it did not erase the deeper problems that led to it. So, we often carry those burdens ourselves. Over the years, they may have grown heavier from subsequent failed marriages and relationships, addiction, or other hardships that bring new spiritual, emotional, and psychological challenges. We may feel as if we are in over our heads as we realize that these are all parts of the cross that we are currently carrying. But this can give us the chance to forgive more deeply, broadly, and completely than ever before.
Lately, I have been meditating on the three falls of Jesus on the way to Calvary. I have often wondered why, out of the fourteen Stations of the Cross, three are dedicated to Jesus falling. The experience of being a caretaker is helping me to understand why. When life is difficult, we feel less alone knowing that the heaviness of the Cross brought Jesus to the ground, too - and not just once, but three times. When meditating on this, it helps me to think of it in this way: while my father’s illness may be a cross, the wounds from divorce are like a crown of thorns. When the soldiers placed the Crown of Thorns on Jesus’ head, they mocked His true identity as the King of Kings. And when the Cross came crashing down on Him, it likely drove the thorns deeper into His head. In a similar way, divorce can be like a crown of thorns because it wounds and even mocks our identity. We can begin to define ourselves by our brokenness rather than by our identity as children of God’s love. When the cross of a parent’s illness, or any other burden, falls upon us, those identity wounds can re-open. This leaves us feeling exposed and vulnerable.
However, when we fall under the weight of that cross, we can follow Jesus’ example by getting up and continuing to show up. We do our best, trusting that God will work through our faithfulness in unexpected ways.
I have witnessed this as my dad’s illness has brought healing and growth not only for him and for me, but also for my mom. Watching someone suffer often softens the heart and makes forgiveness easier.
We may not do everything perfectly, but God honors our efforts. He asks us to continue to show up with love and to do our best, and He supplies the rest. When we persist in prayer and remain close to Him, He gives us His joy and teaches us to laugh, even in difficult moments. He renews our peace and hope because “in all these things we conquer overwhelmingly through Him who loved us" (Romans 8:37).
This brings us to an important reminder about the Christian life.
Peace and Joy Can be Present Amidst Suffering
It is easy to fall into the trap of believing that peace only comes after the battle is over. Once everything is resolved, and we have done what the Lord has asked of us, we can finally experience peace. But peace does not always come with a warm feeling. Often, it comes amidst sacrifice. And fortunately, God does not wait for perfect circumstances to share His joy with us. On the contrary, peace and joy come while we are still in the trenches alone, exhausted, and surrounded by the wreckage, yet still trusting. It is there that we can “Sing a new song to the Lord” (Isaiah 42:10).
Since as caregivers it can sometimes feel like we are carrying a double cross—the illness of a parent and the re-emergence of old wounds from divorce—we can hope that there will be double the fruit. Or rather, since Heaven’s math seems to be different, perhaps the fruit will not be double, but a hundredfold (Matthew 13:23). Our wounds, when we entrust them to God, become unexpectedly fruitful.
With the gift of God’s peace, we can say, as Joseph did to his brothers in Egypt:
“But now do not be distressed,
and do not reproach yourselves for having sold me here.
It was really for the sake of saving lives
that God sent me here ahead of you” (Genesis 45:5).
Through our trials, God can indeed save lives, as he did through Joseph’s. The work of conversion bears fruit far beyond our own lives. It brings life to future generations of our children or spiritual children, to our friendships, and to other children of divorce who find themselves on a similar path. It reaches those we serve in our communities, parishes, and apostolates. Wherever God calls us to be instruments of healing, our wounds, when united to the Cross, become channels of grace. They deepen our compassion and enlarge our capacity to love. They bring peace and become life-giving.
~ ~ ~
At various times during his pontificate, St. John Paul II told us that he prayed and suffered much for families. He saw us. He knew the family was under attack, and he offered his prayers and suffering for struggling and broken families. In Toronto, he promised that no difficulty or fear could suffocate the hope in our hearts, and he boldly challenged us to stake our lives on that hope. So many of us believed him. We trusted him. And we staked our lives on that Hope, Who is Jesus. Thank God his words proved true.
Twenty-three years later, in this Jubilee Year of Hope, Pope Leo gathered today’s youth and urged them not to settle for mediocrity. He encouraged them to form relationships in Jesus, rooted in truth, love, and respect. He told them that true happiness is found only in Jesus, Who is our Hope. I have no doubt that many young people will stake their lives on that same Hope through Pope Leo’s invitation, as we did through Pope John Paul’s.
I cannot wait to hear their stories when we celebrate the next jubilee year in 2050!
Endnotes:
Pope John Paul II. (2002, July 28). Apostolic voyage to Toronto: Mass for the celebration of the 17th World Youth Day in Downsview Park, Toronto: Homily. Vatican. https://www.vatican.va/content/john-paul-ii/en/homilies/2002/documents/hf_jp-ii_hom_20020728_xvii-wyd.html
The Jubilee Prayer by Pope Francis:
Father in heaven,
may the faith you have given us
in your son, Jesus Christ, our brother,
and the flame of charity enkindled
in our hearts by the Holy Spirit,
reawaken in us the blessed hope
for the coming of your Kingdom.
May your grace transform us
into tireless cultivators of the seeds of the Gospel.
May those seeds transform from within both humanity and the whole cosmos
in the sure expectation
of a new heaven and a new earth,
when, with the powers of Evil vanquished,
your glory will shine eternally.
May the grace of the Jubilee
reawaken in us, Pilgrims of Hope,
a yearning for the treasures of heaven.
May that same grace spread
the joy and peace of our Redeemer
throughout the earth.
To you our God, eternally blessed,
be glory and praise for ever.
Amen
(The above prayer was found on the Jubilee 2025 web site here.)
About the Author:
Kristelle has been a campus minister in the Archdiocese of Boston since 2004, having served at Emerson College, MIT, and, currently, Framingham State University. In 2020, she attended a Life-Giving Wounds retreat and later contributed to a rosary meditation booklet for adult children of divorce. She is active in Unbound Ministry, is an independent author, and holds a Master of Arts in Christian Ministry from St. John’s Seminary in Brighton, MA.
Reflection Questions for Small Groups or Individuals:
If you have done so, how has “caring for an ill parent as an adult child of divorce” impacted you? What reflections can you share with those going through a similar situation?
Take a moment to reflect on the words of St. John Paul II again that opened this blog post. How do they speak to you?
How can caregiving resurface old wounds? Do you have examples from your life where this has happened?
Is there someone in your life who you can forgive on a deeper level?
Healing happens when we journey together.
If Kristelle’s reflection resonated with you, consider joining a Life-Giving Wounds retreat or support group this fall. You do not have to carry the darkness alone.
Together, we can walk into the light.