This has been a hard blog to write, and it’s been a while coming. I’ve been reading for years about people having to care for their aging parents and how devastating it can be…but I never thought I’d have to worry about that. Mom wouldn’t be a problem. I always knew she would die fairly young (how did I know, you ask? She told me! Many times over the years, from the time I was a very little girl, I heard her rant on about how she was going to die young of a stroke as her mother did before her, and THEN we’d all be sorry we treated her so badly! And, what do you know? She created her own reality – although she did wait until she was 72, an age that’s getting younger all the time.) But my Dad? Never. He was too strong, too stubborn, to go out with a whimper. I pictured him going on full steam as he always had until he decided he was ready to check out the territory on the other side. Then he’d be gone, just like that, no muss no fuss. Denial is a wonderful thing, as long as it lasts.
Dad had lived alone since Mom passed in 1993, and for many of those years he fared very well. He thrived on having his own space, something I recognized because I have the same sort of make-up (what a surprise). My brother and I DID insist he make a fresh pot of coffee every day rather than make 12 cups on a Monday and flip the warmer switch each morning thereafter until the coffee was consumed as he had been doing, but other than that, we didn’t feel the need to interfere. Dad kept the house fairly neat, he cooked occasionally but most often ate sandwiches and take-out (and he ate well), and he cared for the yard and the woods behind his house as he always had. Half a dozen widowed ladies fought over who would bring him his next pot of bean soup – until one of them boldly asked him to accompany her on a day trip with her Senior group, and thereafter they dated for ten years. It was a sweet and touching relationship, full of laughter and love, and it even led to my brother meeting and marrying her daughter. When Esther passed away, we were all very worried about Dad. He was in his early 80s now instead of the active 70 he had been when Mom died, and we watched him closely.
He continued to live alone, refusing even to consider any sort of assisted living. He was still fairly active and had no trouble driving, in spite of being partially blind in one eye from macular degeneration and having had a quadruple heart bypass. (My three siblings and I all agreed that we each had had our name on one of those clogged arteries…) He began to feed the neighbor’s cat, who kept mostly to his yard to avoid the pit bull in her own; after word got out on the kitty grapevine about the warm meals my Dad would whip up twice a day (half dry cat food, half canned, stirred up with hot water in a special bucket he kept just for the purpose), the strays began arriving until Dad never had less than a dozen cats in his back yard. Because Dad had arthritic knees and seldom ventured out to sit in the screened-in back porch behind the house (which had been my mother’s pride and joy), he opened it up for his cats to use as a shelter from the weather. He took out one screen for their easy egress and left old towels, boxes and blankets in there. The floor was littered with old pans and cat food dishes. He would laugh about how “your Mother” would have a fit if she saw it, but we laughed too, because Dad was enjoying his cats a lot, and we wanted him to have joy in his life.
The rot began to set in when we started noticing stacks of newspapers and magazines piling up in Dad’s living room. They were neatly tied with twine, but they were still piling up. When asked about it, Dad stated that he didn’t get to the recycling center as often as he should — but that he’d take care of them. Oh, okay, made sense — we dismissed it. The back porch was no longer a cat sanctuary; the screens were so torn and the indoor-outdoor carpeting so shredded and filthy, and the porch smelled so terribly of cat urine, that the cats didn’t even shelter in there any more. They still came in there to eat, as that’s where Dad fed them, but they chose to sleep in the gravel beside the house rather than spend time on the porch. Still we dismissed it. Dad couldn’t get around like he used to, after all. He began to pay someone to mow for him, and they did a terrible job, leaving the weeds and grass close to the house to grow up 6 – 7 feet tall, but Dad didn’t complain or find anyone else. We grumbled but figured it was his business. But then Dad’s house began to show signs of real neglect. Though he still kept the dishes done and the carpet occasionally vacuumed, the dust was thick, his junk mail overflowed the desk AND the kitchen table so that he ate his meals on a tiny corner of the breakfast bar, and the place stank. Wallpaper was peeling off the walls, the hall carpeting was torn, and the garage smelled worse even than the estwhile screen porch. My sister, sisters in law, and I all offered at various times to come give the place a good cleaning, but Dad acted offended at the offers…so once again, we dismissed it. Dad began to hobble badly on his arthritic legs, yet he refused to use a cane or talk to his doctor about it. We began talking amongst ourselves, shaking our heads at his stubbornness and wondering if there really was a problem. Dad’s 90th birthday was coming up, and though we kept tabs on him as best we could, we found ourselves reluctant to say anything. After all, this was our DAD!
Finally, after a thankfully minor ER visit brought us all to his house, we siblings agreed that we had to get some of the stuff out of there and get it clean. We pretty much told Dad that he needed to decide what to keep and what to throw out of the magazines and mail (my brother would help him), and that my sister in law and I were coming in to clean. He wasn’t happy, but he agreed. That day spent cleaning was one of the worst days of my life. I drew the short straw and got as my first task the job of cleaning the bathroom off Dad’s bedroom. The dirt and mold/mildew build-up on the formerly-white-now-yellowish-grey shower and sink were not the worst of it, although that was bad enough. The floor and toilet were smeared with urine and feces, where Dad had obviously not made it to the toilet in time…and, worse, had not noticed that he hadn’t cleaned up after himself completely. As I scraped multiple globs of dried shit and scoured brown crusty patches of piss off the floor, I didn’t know whether to cry or throw up. (Although I ended up doing neither, I wanted to do both!) More ominous even than the excrement were big drops of dried blood here and there…what in the world had happened?? My sister in law had had the easier job of cleaning the main bath which Dad rarely used, but some nasty similar surprises awaited her there too. I stayed overnight and cleaned his kitchen, finding poorly-washed dishes and silverware in the cupboards being used as clean, years-old expired food in the cupboards and the fridge/freezer, and layers of grease and dust over all. Dad had given up cooking years since, but I decided I was going to make a nice meal while I was there. I gave up when packages of muffin mix ended up full of bugs and I couldn’t find any food in the whole house that was fit to eat. How long had he been living like this? And how long had we adult children been closing our eyes and allowing it?
We asked him, often, if he was all right, if he needed anything, how he was doing. But he always answered that he was fine…and because he was Dad, we eagerly took him at his word. He was strong, he was mighty, and though everyone but I was taller than he, he was Big. He was the Father. None of us wanted to assume he had become anything different. It doesn’t matter that you’re an adult, yourself, that’s still an awful realization to have…although scraping his ancient dried poop off the floor makes it hard to deny any longer.
We are still struggling with the situation. Dad is still living alone, still refuses to consider assisted living or a stranger in the house, and we go regularly to clean and make sure he has edible food and clean clothes, staying with him when we can. I’m afraid something more drastic will have to be done, and probably sooner rather than later. But how do you tell a man who measures his self-worth in what he’s accomplished that day that he should let someone else do it for him? How in the world do you tell the man who’s always been larger than life to you that he’s human after all, and an old and increasingly helpless one, at that? Please, someone tell me, how do you SAY that to your Dad?
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I have no advice, Jayne, other than to say that whatever you say, just say it with love. I hear how heartbreaking it is for you to have come to this particular juncture of Dad’s life. I’ll be praying for you and yours.
I am once again thankful for my Dad’s quick decline and easy passing – though who knows what will happen with my mom.
This has got to be miserable. Good luck.
Hi Jayne,
I can relate so much to how you are feeling at the moment. I am 51 My father is 71 and he has been suffering from dementia for the past 6 years. He is now chair bound in a nursing home. I am a shell of the person I was 6 years ago because of the emotional turmoil of losing my father in such a way. This must be the most torturous way to lose a loved one. It is so difficult to see my proud, strong, capable, kind, intelligent father disintegrate before my eyes. He would have been mortified by this loss of dependence and control over his own behaviour. My biggest regret was not discussing his deteriorating mental state with him while it was still possible. I missed that boat by putting it off and thus never got to explore with him how it made him feel… I would imagine he would have felt very afraid at times and I am so sad I did not encourage him to talk about that. My advice to you would be to talk to your dad about what is happening and seek help from professionals. I know it is difficult to make the decision to move a parent from independent living to care but sometimes it is the only safe option. I resisted doing this until I was forced to after he had an horrific fall 18 months ago. I am an RN and for a long time I beat myself up about not caring for my dad myself at home but now I realise how ridiculously unrealistic I was being. Look after yourself because that’s what your Dad would want most.
1. First you all get together and have him fill out a medical power of attorney and a MOST form, if you have those in your state. That gives him a chance to think about what he wants when he can no longer tell you what he wants and then you have a discussion about it, with all the siblings in the room.
2. Once the Medical power of attorney is completed then someone has the ability to make sure that he is safe and taking care of himself in his own home. If he has the financial resources, hire someone a couple of days a week to make sure the house is safe and sanitary. If he meets the criteria for Medicaid in the county, speak with the local council on aging about someone to help him with housekeeping, etc. There are programs for the frail elderly all over the country.
3. Enlist the help of his doctor to make sure that Dad has the mental where-with-all to manage his meds safely. If he can’t, someone needs to pour his meds for him.
4. If he can’t manage at home, safely, then someone needs to sit down with him and say, “Dad, you can’t live by yourself any more”. Give him the chance to pick where he wants to go. If possible, take him to some of the assisted living facilities in the area and show him what they look like, etc.
This is not an easy thing to do. It’s difficult to go from adult child to caregiver, but it will avoid a disaster in the long run.
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Gayle W. just gave you some EXCELLENT advice. If you are able and feel so inclined, I would also highly recommend the book “The Complete Eldercare Planner: Where to Start, Which Questions to Ask, and How to Find Help”
It is an EXCELLENT resource, VERY easy to read, and can help you figure out so many crucial questions you will have.
I also wanted to say that your story was very well written. I could feel your heart and love toward your father in your words.
You sound like a very loving and loyal daughter. Your father did a good job in parenting you into a woman.
Magnolia
You’ve received excellent advice so I certainly wont be repetitive. I will share one thing I have heard been successful with another in a similar situation with a parent:
Sit the parent down and say “I cant take care of you here anymore, and your stuborrnness is having a negative impact on me and my health. Dad, I need your help in doing what is best for both you and me.”
It sounds like he is still very much in the “parent” mode with you and your siblings. Maybe you can use that to influence his choices?
This article was well written and shows much light on the subject of aging parents. It was helpful and thanks for sharing your story and the many caring responses.
Let’s all make sure we don’t put our kids in that situation. That means we need to start the conversation with our children – that we need to accept our limitations and think of what we want when we will no longer be able to stay in our home. And we must not wait until we are 80 to do so – even if our own children do not want to talk about our decrepitude and our death.
Very timely Jayne, going through something similar with an equally stubborn Dad. When we ask, he says he’s fine, doesn’t need a thing. He has functioned very well on his own until the last few months. His vision and ability to get around on his own are deteriorating. We did convince him to hire a housecleaner a few years ago, as we did not want to spend our time with him cleaning the house. He still keeps it neat, but can’t really see the dirt anymore.
He may just need a Home health aide or some other kind of in-home help, with cooking, meds and cleaning. This is much less expensive than going into assisted living. Having someone from the outside come in to evaluate his situation and recommend what level of home care he needs might be easier for him to accept than hearing it from his kids. Plus, you are all too close to the situation to be totally objective. Call around to home health care agencies in his area and find out who does that.
With my Dad we have to be a bit devious, like your Dad, when you ask him if he needs help, he says no. We are trying to get his MD to prescribe some in-home Physical Therapy due to recent foot problems and an arthritic knee. The PT will then make recommendations about his living situation, he’s still in a 2 story home, and the PT will bring in the home health evaluator.
You put it perfectly, it’s hard to become the caregiver to a proud, stubborn Dad. We don’t want to make him do things he doesn’t want to do, but we see dangerous situations looming, eating food that’s gone bad, leaving burners on the stove, leaving water running in the sink, falling down the stairs. I live 4 hours away, my sister is an hour away. We have increased our visits, I come twice a month for 3 or 4 days at a time, luckily I have my own business and have a flexible schedule, and my sister comes over a few days a week. But we don’t think that’s enough. When we ask if he wants help in the home or if he wants to move into assisted living he says he’s not that far gone…. Sigh.
I’m in a somewhat similar situation with my mother. I definitely agree with the posters who point out the importance of setting up the legsl framework for stepping in medically or financially if that becomes necessary. If you could get him to agree to let a cleaning crew in once in a while, maybe when he is away on a family outing, you could enjoy your time with him instead of cleaning, but if he refuses, he refuses. Also, I know from experience that he could be a target for exploitative types, so it’s good to be vigilant.
Beyond that, as long as he is is a legally competent adult, you can’t force him to do anything, and he is not your responsibility. Maybe he would be happy in assisted living, or maybe not. If he chooses to live in a way that isn’t the safest, that is his decision and you can’t let it consume your life.
Wow – this is so timely. This is right where I am right now. My mom is 82 and my Dad is 87. They live in Assistive Living. Mom is deteriorating before our eyes. Dad is trying to keep me out of it. He is holding it together, but I wonder at what expense to his health? I have called the county and they are helping … but as far as Mom is conderned – she is one fall away from the hospital or nursing home. She’s going to see the Doctor tomorrow and my sister is coming up this weekend to assess the situation…. The end of life ain’t pretty – but I plan to take it one day at a time and enjoy my time left with the folks.
How I hear you . My Mom is 91 and after another visit to the hospital we placed here in a care facility. We could no longer come over and do the things she needed.. She had a fall and broke her hip a couple of years ago and was doing well. Then another fall and the hip had to be replaced.. it was pinned but the bone died causing alot of pain. Mom has never been the same since. She wouldn’t do the exercises to recover leading her to become weaker and weaker. Before at the house she’d get up make coffee and sit in her chair and sleep. Eating mostly coffee, cookies and her buttermilk. She refused to let anyone come in to help clean. (Im 9 hours away, and both siblings are not in the best of health themselves and couldn’t do more than they were) We tried to let her stay home as long as possible but she was going down hill fast. I’m the power of attorney, Mom did make out a living will so we were covered.. Trust me it doesn’t take away the guilt of knowing they want to be home. She can be very bitter with her comments and has told us very hurtful things. Bottom line you have to help your dad.. wither he want’s it or not. You might have him move in with you so you can visit. also you could check out smaller places so he can relax more… have a visit at the assisted living.. they are usually very happy to have a guest as it could be a future resident. Plus there he’d have his freedom and company too. Other than that you need to all sit him down and have a talk about your concerns. It’s one of the worst things to have to give up their Independence and have help. It’s admitting their getting old and the end is coming. I wish you luck.. I know what your going through.
Reading all your posts makes me so eternally grateful that after my dad passed away in 1999, I was in a position to (at her request because she simply didn’t want to live alone) move in with my mother and (amazingly seamlessly) live with her for the last 7 years of her life as she aged into her mid-80′s. She came and went as she pleased – she willingly relinquished the “housekeeping” duties (except for her room) and monthly bill paying (we shared everything on a 50/50 basis) and when it started confusing her, I helped her balance her checkbook. We went together grocery shopping and to her dr’s appointments (she was somewhat hearing impaired so wanted to make sure she understood what she was being told) – and when her health started deteriorating and she ended up being diagnosed with stage 4 liver cancer (diabetes), I was already there with her. It was my greatest priviledge to share those last 7 years with her – I wouldn’t have changed it for the world. My siblings were also grateful that she was not alone.
While I know the heartache of watching parents deteriorate, I cannot imagine doing it from ”a distance”. I was also lucky that my parents put in place durable powers of attorney and end of life instructions. In the end with both of them, it saved much heartache.
Jayne, my heart goes out to you – as well as everyone else here that is struggling with parenting their parents.
I have not read any of the other responses, but I can tell you that it sounds like this might be Alzheimer’s or at least dementia. I’m not a health professional, but I am currently dealing with similar issues.
My parents are 87 and 89 and both have dementia as well as other, physical issues. Dad’s is Alzheimer’s. He insists that he and mom can take care of themselves. But, they have not been doing so for years now.
I have arranged for aides to be in the home 6 hrs/day, 7 days a week. I go over every day to give them their meds. They also get Meals on Wheels.
All this will end in a few weeks because my sister and i will use our Power of Attorney to place them in a local dementia care facility where all their needs will be met.
My advice:
If you or one of your siblings doesn’t have PoA, contact a lawyer who specializes in elder care.
If your dad is a veteran, see if the local VA hospital has a GEM clinic. This clinic will conduct an evaluation of your dad’s physical, mental, and spiritual health and then meet with him and the family to discuss results and recommendations.
If he is a vet, check into getting help in the home through the Aide and Attendance program. The VA is currently paying for someone to clean the house every week. (I, too have been dealing with feces and urine covered floors, walls, toilets, beds, clothing.)
Make sure he is not putting away important papers, especially utility bills. You might want to arrange for them to be paid directly from his checking account each month.
Make sure you and your siblings are in agreement on the course of action.
Contact the local county or state agency on aging and ask them for information and help. I found the social workers there to be very helpful.
Guilt will be there no matter what you do, but remember that whatever you decide to do, you are making that decision out of love and concern for your father.
My heart bleeds for you and your situation, a very difficult one. You have been gived a lot of very good advice by the caring women on this site. I hope it will help to lead to a solution.
My parents are gone; my mother died young at 56, my dad at 82 (was competent and capable until he unexpectedly died) so I haven’t had to deal with this very large and emotional problem on a personal level. However, I am 76 and have taken steps to make sure my kids will have the right to do what is right for me if the time comes when I can’t live alone. I’ve signed a medical power of attorney, discussed this with the kids, discussed living options, and generally made them squirm a little (squirming is good). We both know what the options are and the discussion is open. All of you with adult children should do this-it may be difficult, what is discussed may not be implemented, but the door is open.
The only thing I have to add is, when I don’t know how to tell someone something they don’t want to hear, I think, how would I want someone to tell me this news? That usually makes things much more clear.
Jayne–
As a retired freelance magazine writer and book author, I must say, your writing was beautifully poignant and so well-written.
While mother isn’t “there” yet, she is just one fall, one diagnosis, from being in your father’s shoes. Which would then put me in YOUR shoes.
Thank you for, while not really providing answers, giving a voice to the angst we all feel as our parents age. Thought provoking questions like yours can be the catalyst for a host of answers, the greatest of which is probably demonstrated here on this board—ask “friends” (okay, so they are cyber-friends) for advice.
It looks like you’ve found a lot of it here. I’m copying and pasting the best of the answers into my OWN memory-bank.
Hello Jayne,
My recommendation is for one of you guys to move close by, on the same street or at least within a mile. It is tough at first, but when you keep on being there and continue to be helpful, and not judgmental, it will ease up and you will know you are doing the right thing.
I found myself in an odd situation, a bit similar to yours. My mom was working at a state job where she insisted on working the full 20 years. She lived in Ohio and I lived in Northern California, in the country among the mountains and redwoods. I had urged her many times, when she seemed glum, to retire and come and join me. She always refused. Then 4 years ago she met a man on a dating website. She instantly fell for him, retired, took the lump sum and built a home according to HIS beliefs and wishes. He convinced her that the coming earth changes would be devastating, and would happen that very year.
It is now 4 years later, and she is very unhappy. She does have a decent monthly income, but she built a home in a rural area where she does not have any friends or social life. The man she married continually invites his former prison friends, and everyone he talks to, to live here. The one that has come is nearly disabled, and the man she married is becoming that way. I have never liked or trusted him, but did not know how to dissuade my mom from this huge mistake.
After hearing on the phone that she had had a “mini-stroke” from the stress and his nonsense, I decided it was time to move here. I am the only one of my siblings who is single and have the luxury of relocating.
We had some arguments at first, and I was beginning to feel that I was worse than no help at all. But we have worked out many of our differences, and she is slowly letting me help more and more. We go out and about together, and are getting closer emotionally. She seems a little happier, and does express her appreciation.
I miss my home, friends and community very, very much. But if I had let this opportunity go by and then she passed away, I would have felt very dumb and would have regretted it for the rest of my life. That is what sustains me when I am feeling down and missing my former life. I know I can go back when things are taken care of here.
Robin West
We did much the same thing, lived in Truckee CA, and loved our life there, but knew we’d regret it if we didn’t move close to my Dad to spend his last years near him. We moved 10 miles away in 2005 and saw him at least once a week, he was so happy when we moved back east. I really did not like living in my old home town, but is was worth it for my Dad. Then, in 2009 my husband was transferred. It was move or lose the job and in ’09 job loss was not a good idea. We are now about 4 hours away, but at least we are not 3000 miles anymore, and we live in a place we love, we plan on staying here and not going back to CA. My sister moved closer to my Dad, so it has worked out. Now that my Dad is in crisis I wish we were only 10 minutes away again. Luckily I have pretty flexible schedule and can go down there at the drop of a hat. Hang in there Robin, you are right, it is worth it.
My sisters and I began dealing with a similar situation when our mother died unexpectedly. As a retired military officer, our father would not take advice from daughters nor consult with us about any decisions he made. He did end up in the hospital with a broken hip which put us in touch with many professionals and he did tend to listen to them. So after a number of difficult scenarios, the sisters arranged for a meeting with him and his pastor, done a bit like an intervention so he would not choose to embarrass himself by losing his temper. We had come in with our concerns and our desire to support him in enjoying his life in writing. The pastor acted as facilitator, we cranked out an agreement to sign and the pastor kept a copy. In order to involve more of the professionals he trusted, we insisted it be notarized by his financial advisor, who reaffirmed to him how great it was to have 3 supportive daughters, etc. By conducting ourselves in a business-like manner and relying on other professionals to affirm our positions and help us reach compromises, our dad gained new respect for his children and has been much more cooperative.
I think you are on the right track, and I am sorry that you are having to deal with this trying and difficult issue. I see families who are so stressed by issues similar to yours. That does not mean it is any easier, but realize that there is support from the community for you, and this time you have with dad is the last you will get. Focus on the man not the mess as much as possible. His and your dignity are wrapped up in the awful place he finds himself. Somewhere inside of him is the man you knew growing up despite what you are looking at. Enlist professionals to assist and advise where ever possible to remove some of the bitterness from the relationship. Call upon those professionals that he entrusted his affairs to for support, guidance, and affirmation for you and what you are trying to accomplish. His welfare is your main priority and I can tell that you are scared and emotionally hurt by his condition.
Take a couple of moments and look at your own life, you can gain a great deal of affirmation for yourself by taking the time to put your own affairs in order so that your children are better able to handle this situation when it comes in your life. By doing this and discussing it with him, I have had a number of families tell me it helped in the process by making the parent feel less the center of a crisis. It may prove to trigger greater cooperation from him in what you are trying to accomplish… If it opens the discussion and allows him to see that this is a normal part of life, you may find that he is more willing to be helpful and receive the help more openly.
I have little to add except one small thing that I found helpful with my mom: I used the phrase “you deserve it” when talking about her getting help. She worked so hard and did so much for others all those years, she deserved to kick back and let someone else do the work. I had to say it over and over, but it helped.
I have a little different situation. My husband is 83 and I am 67. We have a 128 acre farm where we’ve lived for 24 years. The last 5 years or so the farm has gone down hill because my husband can’t see well, he has copd, he had a heart attack in May of last year and he’s just literally running out of steam. The 4 board wood fences are falling down all over the farm and the ones still standing are screaming to be painted. If my son can’t get here in bad weather to feed the cows, then they go without food because it’s always either too hot or too cold for him to go out. My son has a full time job and is really tired of trying to keep our farm going. For at least the last three years I’ve tried to show him why it would be to our advantage to sell the farm, buy a nice small house that we can afford to heat (we live in a really nice, really big old house built in 1873!) and assure that we have enough money to live on. He adamantly refuses to do anything stating that this isn’t a good time to sell a farm. I’ve suggested putting it up for sale and if we can’t get the price we’re asking then we just won’t sell now but I really think we should at least try. When I confront him, he says I have no say since it was his money that bought the farm. Over the years I have put in a decent amount of money and a hell of a lot of work on the farm. I itemized all this for him last week and also got all the figures from last year showing him that we lost a sigificant amount of money last year on the farm. He refused to listen to me or look at the figures. When confronted with work that needs to be done, he just says it isn’t necessary and that’s the end of it. He refused to think about how much easier and better our life could be without all this work. I tried saying it in a way that doesn’t point out that he’s getting to old to do the work but when the cows break down a fence or the bull is out in the middle of the road, it’s up to me to handle the problem. At 67 I really don’t want to take care of our big house and big yard or do anymore work with cows but just don’t know how to handle him. I don’t think he’s senile but he definitely acts like a 3 year old when I try to discuss anything with him. I’d appreciate any suggestions on how to diplomatically handle this problem.
Is there someone in your lives whose opinion he seems to really value? Could you enlist that persons help? One of the above posts talked about doing an “intervention” type thing and enlisted their Dad’s pastor and financial advisor, might an approach like that, with you, your son and a few other trusted folks be a way to get to him. Most married women I know say the same thing about their husbands, that they don’t listen to them anymore. I am a massage therapist, if I know the couple I get frequent requests from wives asking me to mention something to the husband about things like weight loss, better self-care, etc. so you are not alone with your husband turning a deaf ear to your ideas. You’ve done a lot of good work to lay out your case, which makes perfect sense to me. I am sure you can get some friends and family on board. Because, really, not feeding the poor cows is cruel. Best of luck!