When Your Loved One Is Still Here But Slipping Away: Understanding Ambiguous Loss in Caregiving
The thing nobody tells you about grief is that sometimes it begins long before anyone has died. Caring for someone with memory loss can mean watching the person you love change right in front of you. Your loved one is still in the room, still sitting in their favorite chair, but they may not remember your name or the stories they used to tell on repeat. You show up every day, and somewhere in the middle of it all, you may find yourself missing them while they’re right there. What surprises many caregivers most isn’t just the sadness. It’s the guilt. “How can I be grieving when they’re still here?” If you’ve asked yourself that question, I want you to know there’s a name for what you’re feeling, and it doesn’t mean you’re doing anything wrong.

Grief Without a Goodbye
This experience is called ambiguous loss, a term developed by family therapist Dr. Pauline Boss. It describes a loss that doesn’t come with clarity or closure. With dementia and other forms of memory loss, a person may be physically present while changing in ways that make them feel psychologically absent. They’re here, but not entirely here. When someone dies, there are rituals that help us grieve: funerals, cards, casseroles, people checking in. Ambiguous loss doesn’t come with any of that. Because there’s no clear moment to point to, many caregivers feel like their grief goes unseen, even by the people closest to them. This is sometimes called disenfranchised grief, grief that is real but isn’t openly acknowledged or supported. It can also come in waves. A forgotten name, a skill that’s suddenly gone, a conversation that no longer makes sense. Each change can feel like a new loss, and just when we adjust to one stage, things may shift again.
The Feelings That Come With It
Caregivers carrying ambiguous loss often describe a mix of emotions that can feel confusing, and sometimes even contradictory. Sadness is the most expected feeling, but it can show up in unexpected ways. You may miss the way your loved one laughed, the advice they used to give, or the way they simply knew you. That sadness can surface even on days that seem to be going fine.
Guilt is often one of the heaviest. Many caregivers feel guilty for losing their patience, for wishing for a break, for feeling relief when a hard day ends, or even for grieving at all. But guilt is often a sign of how much we care, not proof that we’re failing. Exhaustion goes beyond being tired. Between the appointments, the broken sleep, the constant vigilance, and the emotional weight of it all, caregiving can leave us running on empty. Grief on its own is tiring, and carrying it while caring for someone else is a lot for one nervous system to hold.
Frustration and anger are part of this too. You may feel frustrated with your loved one, with the illness, with family members who aren’t helping, or with a system that’s hard to navigate. Anger is a natural response to loss and to feeling powerless. It doesn’t make you a bad caregiver. It makes you human.
Your Feelings Are Valid
Many of us have been taught that caregiving should be selfless, that our own pain should always come second. But what if grieving while your loved one is still here isn’t a sign that something is wrong with you? What if it’s a sign that you love someone deeply and are losing pieces of them along the way? You can feel love and resentment in the same day. You can be grateful for the time you have and heartbroken about what’s changing. These feelings don’t cancel each other out, and making room for both is part of navigating ambiguous loss. Just as we wouldn’t expect someone to carry something heavy for years without ever setting it down, we can’t expect caregivers to hold this weight without support.
Small Ways to Care for Yourself
Support for ambiguous loss doesn’t have to be complicated. Often, it begins with small, consistent actions: naming what you’re feeling (“I’m grieving”), accepting help from friends, family, or a support group, finding moments of connection like music, touch, or simply sitting together, and protecting small pockets of rest wherever you can. None of these will take the loss away, but they can make the weight a little easier to carry. Healing in the context of ongoing loss doesn’t mean “getting over it.” It means learning to carry it with more compassion for ourselves.
How Therapy Can Help
Sometimes the weight of ambiguous loss is more than friends and family can hold, especially if they haven’t lived it. Therapy can offer a space that is confidential, nonjudgmental, and focused entirely on you. In therapy, caregivers can talk openly about difficult feelings without worrying about how they’ll be received, make sense of grief that doesn’t fit the typical pattern, explore guilt, and build coping strategies for the hard days. You don’t have to wait until you’ve reached a breaking point to reach out. Therapy isn’t only for crises. It can be a place to pause, breathe, and be cared for while you do the caring.
You Don’t Have to Carry This Alone
If you’ve been feeling guilty for grieving someone who is still here, I encourage you to consider another possibility. Maybe your grief isn’t a sign that you’re doing something wrong. Maybe it’s a sign of how much you love them. Caring for someone who is slipping away is one of the hardest things a person can do. Your grief is real, your feelings make sense, and support is available. At Fowler and Tidwell, we offer a compassionate, confidential space where caregivers can be
heard, supported, and reminded that their own well-being matters.
Written by: Khadija Yusufali, MSW graduate student. To book with Khadija, click here!






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