Your Dad Is Getting Older and You Don’t Know How You Feel About It

There can be a strange moment in adulthood when you look at your dad and realise he has got old. It might be something ridiculously ordinary that makes you notice. He takes longer getting out of a chair. He asks you to lift something he would once have carried without thinking. He doesn’t hear what somebody says in a noisy restaurant, drives more cautiously than he used to or suddenly starts talking about an appointment at the hospital as though medical appointments have become a normal part of his diary. Perhaps you notice his hands. Perhaps it’s his hair. Maybe you see a photograph and, for a split second, he looks like your grandad.

Nothing dramatic has necessarily happened, but something shifts. The man who occupied the role of Dad for your entire childhood suddenly becomes visible as something else: an ageing human being. And you might have absolutely no idea how you feel about it.

Dads aren’t supposed to get old

Of course we know intellectually that our parents age. We watch birthdays arrive, see photographs change and understand perfectly well how time works. Emotionally, however, parents can remain strangely fixed in our minds.

Dad is the person who drove the car, carried the heavy thing, knew how to fix something, shouted at the television, gave you a lift, complained about the price of everything and somehow always seemed considerably older and more grown-up than you. Then you reach an age you distinctly remember him being.

That can be unsettling in itself. You remember your dad at 40 and realise that, at the time, you thought he had life completely figured out. Now you’re 40 and know that this is almost certainly not how being 40 works.

It can make you see him differently. Perhaps he was improvising much more than you realised. Maybe some of the decisions you judged as a teenager make more sense now that you understand mortgages, work, relationships, children and the exhausting practicalities of adulthood. Ageing doesn’t automatically resolve everything between fathers and sons, but sometimes adulthood allows you to see the man behind the role.

The relationship starts changing without anybody announcing it

There usually isn’t a meeting where somebody explains that the roles are beginning to reverse. It happens gradually. You start helping him with technology. Then perhaps you drive somewhere because it’s easier. You accompany him to an appointment, sort something online, climb the ladder he shouldn’t really be climbing anymore or find yourself explaining something financial that he once would have explained to you.

At first these things can feel almost funny. Dad can’t work the new television, has somehow made every word on his phone enormous and has no idea where his passwords are. Then occasionally it doesn’t feel funny at all.

There is something emotionally complicated about becoming the person your father increasingly relies upon. You may feel protective and useful, but also irritated, frightened, sad or even resentful. You can love somebody deeply and still find the practical reality of their ageing difficult. Those feelings don’t cancel each other out.

You begin noticing things you wish you hadn’t

Once you’ve recognised that your dad is getting older, it can become difficult not to notice every piece of evidence.

He repeats a story and you immediately wonder whether he’s becoming forgetful. He gets tired earlier and you notice. He loses weight and you notice. He doesn’t want to drive somewhere at night anymore and you notice. Often there is a perfectly ordinary explanation. People slow down as they age, bodies change and nobody remains exactly as they were at 45.

Sometimes, however, a change genuinely is worth paying attention to. If you’re concerned about something persistent or significant in your dad’s physical or mental health, encouraging him to speak to a healthcare professional is more useful than quietly worrying about it for six months.

That conversation isn’t always easy. Some fathers will book the appointment immediately. Others will insist they’re absolutely fine while apparently believing that refusing to visit a doctor is itself a recognised treatment. You may have to encourage without trying to take control.

He might be frightened too

We often think about how it feels to watch a parent age without thinking enough about how it feels to be the parent doing the ageing. Your dad can see the changes as well.

He may notice that he isn’t as strong as he was, that recovery takes longer, that friends are developing illnesses or that people his own age are dying. Retirement may have changed his sense of purpose. He may worry about money, his health, his partner or eventually becoming dependent on his children.

Men who have spent decades being providers and problem-solvers may find vulnerability particularly uncomfortable. Asking for help with something that once came easily can feel like a much bigger loss than it appears from the outside.

That doesn’t mean you have to treat your dad as fragile. In fact, suddenly treating an older parent as though they are incapable can be incredibly frustrating for them. There is a difference between supporting somebody and quietly taking over their life.

He is getting older. He is still your dad.

Not everybody has the dad they wish they had

Conversations about ageing parents can become unbearably sentimental very quickly. Call your dad. Hug him while you can. Appreciate every moment. Tell him everything you’ve always wanted to say. For some people, those messages are lovely. For others, they’re painful.

Not every father-son relationship is close. Some fathers were absent. Some were emotionally unavailable, controlling, violent, unreliable or simply very difficult men. Some sons have spent years creating boundaries that were necessary for their own wellbeing.

Age doesn’t automatically rewrite history. A father becoming older doesn’t create an obligation to pretend the relationship was something it wasn’t, and illness doesn’t magically remove the impact of previous behaviour. You are allowed to feel compassion for somebody getting older while still recognising the ways they hurt you.

You are also allowed to decide what relationship, if any, feels right now. Sometimes ageing creates an opportunity for reconciliation. Sometimes it doesn’t. Both realities deserve space in conversations about fathers.

There may be things you’ve never said

Men can be remarkably skilled at having entire relationships without discussing the relationship. You can spend a weekend with your dad, talk about football, the weather, work, politics, cars and what the neighbour is doing with that fence, then leave without either of you saying anything remotely personal.

That doesn’t necessarily mean there is no love there. Affection between men is often expressed through action rather than declaration. Your dad might never have been particularly comfortable saying he was proud of you, but he turned up whenever your car broke down. Perhaps you rarely tell him you love him, but you’re the first person he calls when something goes wrong.

There is value in recognising those quieter languages of love. There may also be things worth saying while you have the opportunity. They don’t need to involve sitting opposite each other at a candlelit table and unpacking thirty years of emotional history.

Ask him about his life.

Ask what he was like before he became your dad. Ask what he remembers about his own father. Ask what his first job paid, what he worried about when you were born, what he thinks he got right and what he would do differently. Parents can become so familiar that we forget to be curious about them.

One day you realise you don’t know everything about him

Children tend to experience their parents primarily in relation to themselves. Dad exists as Dad, and his life before you can feel almost fictional. But there was a whole person there first.

He had friends you never met, relationships you know nothing about, stupid nights out, ambitions, disappointments, embarrassing clothes, jobs he hated and probably several decisions he would rather you never discovered.

There may be photographs where he looks impossibly young and you suddenly understand that the person in them had no idea how the next forty years would unfold. Getting to know that person can change the relationship.

It can also give you things you will be grateful to know later. Family stories disappear surprisingly quickly when the people who remember them are no longer around to tell them.

You might start thinking about losing him

This is perhaps the part people don’t say aloud. Watching a parent age can make mortality suddenly feel much less theoretical. A health scare can send your mind somewhere frightening before you have any facts. A friend’s father dies and you immediately think about your own. Your dad mentions writing a will and you desperately want to change the subject. It can feel almost disloyal to imagine life without somebody who is still very much alive. But anticipatory grief is real. We can experience sadness, anxiety and fear about losses that haven’t happened, particularly when somebody we love is ageing or unwell.

The challenge is not allowing fear of the future to steal the relationship you still have in the present. If your dad is here, he is here. You don’t have to start grieving him simply because you’ve finally noticed that he won’t be here forever.

Make ordinary memories

When we become conscious that time with somebody is finite, there can be pressure to make every interaction meaningful. Take the enormous holiday. Arrange the perfect family gathering. Have the important conversation. Create memories.

Those things can be wonderful, but most relationships aren’t built from extraordinary days. They’re built from ordinary ones.

A cup of tea. Watching the match. Sitting in the car. Going for breakfast. Him telling you a story you’ve already heard and you pretending, occasionally, that you haven’t. Calling because you need to ask him something you could probably have Googled.

You don’t have to turn your dad’s ageing into a project. Sometimes being present in somebody’s life is enough.

You are allowed to have complicated feelings

Watching your dad get older can make you feel grateful, frightened, irritated, protective, nostalgic and sad, sometimes within the same afternoon.

It may remind you that you’re ageing too. If your father is suddenly an old man, you are no longer the young man standing behind him with decades separating you from that stage of life.

Perhaps that’s part of what makes it so confronting. Our parents ageing changes our position in the family and our understanding of time. The generation that once stood between us and old age begins to disappear, and suddenly we’re moving forward in the queue.

There is no correct emotional response to that. You don’t need to become sentimental if that isn’t the relationship you have. You don’t need to resolve every old disagreement, forgive things you aren’t ready to forgive or suddenly become best friends.

But if you have a dad you love and a relationship worth having, perhaps notice him a little more. Not because something terrible is about to happen. Not because you should live every day frightened of losing him. Simply because the man you’ve known your entire life is still changing, just as you are. And somewhere between the dad you remember from childhood and the older man sitting opposite you now is a whole person you might still have time to get to know.

Keep looking after you

Wellbeing looks different for everyone, and sometimes the most useful thing is simply finding the right information at the right time. Explore more from Daily Round with our dedicated Women’s Health, Men’s Wellbeing and Wellbeing for Leaders sections, or head to the Leaders Library for our latest book recommendations, ideas and inspiration for life in and outside work.