When Love Isn't Enough: My Journey in Caring for My Father from Afar

This past week has been one of the hardest in my life. My father, a man who once had so much potential, is now unable to walk, and I’ve found myself thousands of miles away, trying to care for him from a distance. It’s a heartbreaking reality, one I never imagined I’d be facing. Watching someone you love go through physical and emotional suffering, feeling powerless to change their circumstances—it’s a pain I wouldn’t wish on anyone.

My father has struggled with his health and his own emotional battles for a long time, but seeing him in this state—lying in his own urine and feces, his family indifferent to his situation—has broken something inside me. The helplessness I feel knowing that I can't be there with him is overwhelming. There's a part of me that wants to drop everything, sell all my belongings, and move to Honduras just to take care of him. But then reality hits: I have my own life here, my dog Akira, my responsibilities. How would I provide for us if I gave everything up?

The guilt is crushing. I feel like I should be doing more, but at the same time, I know I’ve already given so much. I’ve found a male nurse to help care for my father, and his cousin has stepped in where he can. But it’s not the same as me being there, holding his hand and making sure he’s cared for the way I know he deserves.

At times, I’ve felt angry—not just at the situation, but at my dad too. It hurts to see that he couldn’t pull himself out of the depression and unhealthy patterns that led him here. I wish things could have been different, that he could have taken the steps to live a more fulfilling life. But I’m learning that this is his journey, not mine. All I can do is love him, support him, and ask God for mercy as he navigates the path he’s on.

And yet, love alone doesn’t seem like enough sometimes. No matter how much I love him, I can’t change his circumstances, and that’s a tough pill to swallow. I’ve had to accept that I can’t fix everything. There are limits to what I can do, and maybe the hardest part is realizing that those limits are okay. I’m learning to forgive myself for not being able to do it all. I’m learning to find peace in knowing that I’m doing the best I can.

This experience has taught me so much about surrender. I can’t control every aspect of my father’s care, and I can’t carry the burden all on my own. I’m trusting the nurse we’ve hired, trusting that his cousin will continue to help where he can. It’s not easy, but I’m learning to let go, little by little.

If there’s anything I hope to share with anyone reading this, it’s that caregiving from afar is an impossible balancing act. It’s okay to feel overwhelmed, to feel like you can’t do enough, and to acknowledge that you have limits. I’m still learning this myself, but I believe that being honest about these struggles can help lighten the load—even if just a little.

I wish I could take this burden from my father, but this is his journey. All I can do is love him and trust that I’ve done all I can.