What If My Parent Doesn't Want to Talk About Dying at All?

This is one of the most challenging situations families face, and I want you to know that your parent's reluctance to discuss their mortality doesn't mean they're in denial or that you're failing them. Over the years I've learned that there are many valid reasons why someone might choose not to engage in explicit conversations about death.

Some people cope with terminal illness by focusing intensely on living rather than dying. They pour their energy into each day's possibilities rather than dwelling on future limitations. This isn't necessarily avoidance—it might be their most effective strategy for maintaining hope and dignity. Respecting this approach can be one of the most loving things you do.

I've worked with patients who've said, "I know what's happening to me, but talking about it takes away from the time I have left." For them, discussions about death feel like time stolen from life. They'd rather spend their energy on meaningful activities, relationships, and experiences than on planning for an event they can't control anyway.

Others avoid these conversations because they're protecting their loved ones. They sense that talking about death will upset their family members, so they choose silence as an act of care. If this might be true for your parent, consider whether your own emotional reactions might be discouraging these discussions. Sometimes our discomfort is more obvious than we realize.

Cultural and generational factors also play a significant role. Many older adults were raised with the belief that dwelling on negative possibilities is both unproductive and harmful. Their generation often valued stoicism and moving forward without complaint. For them, not talking about death isn't denial—it's dignity and respect.

The key is learning to distinguish between someone who truly doesn't want to discuss their mortality and someone who's waiting for the right moment or approach. I've found that many "reluctant" patients become more open when they feel emotionally safe and when conversations are approached indirectly.

Instead of forcing discussions about death, focus on what your parent does want to talk about. Ask about their childhood, their proudest moments, their hopes for the family's future. These conversations often contain implicit messages about their values, fears, and wishes. Hanging in for these “less morbid” discussions also shows your parent that it’s safe to talk and may lead to discussions about more difficult topics. 

Pay attention to non-verbal communication as well. Your parent might not want to say "I'm dying," but they might increase their expressions of love, spend more time organizing their belongings, or show heightened interest in family photographs and stories. These behaviors often communicate what words cannot.

One approach that works for many families is focusing on comfort and care rather than death and dying. Questions like "How can I help you feel more comfortable?" or "What would make today better for you?" acknowledge their current reality without forcing them to confront their mortality directly. These conversations often lead to discussions about practical needs that indirectly address end-of-life preferences.

Riyaz, one of our guests, taught me something profound about accepting others' approaches to death. He had a remarkable ability to stay present with whatever someone needed, whether that was deep philosophical discussion or complete avoidance of the topic. He understood that our job isn't to convince people to face death in the way we think is best—it's to meet them where they are.

Sometimes the most respectful thing you can do is simply be present without agenda. Sit with your parent, engage in their preferred activities, and let them know through your actions that you love them regardless of what they're willing to discuss. This kind of unconditional presence often creates safety that eventually allows for deeper conversations.

It's also worth remembering that acceptance of death doesn't require talking about it. Your parent might have a deep, private understanding of their situation that they choose not to share. Their silence doesn't necessarily indicate fear or denial—it might reflect a very personal way of processing this transition.

The most important thing is to let your parent know that you'll respect their choices about how to handle this journey. Tell them explicitly: "I'm here for whatever you need, whether that's talking about what's happening or focusing on other things entirely." This removes pressure while keeping the door open. Many times I’ve told a patient that, “Some people like to talk about what’s happening, some just want to sit with it.”

Often the patient that denies wanting to talk about it ends up talking the most, once they know that they’re in control of what we talk about and how much we talk. 

Remember that your role isn't to force your parent to confront death in any particular way. Your role is to love them, support them, and honor their autonomy even when their choices don't match your expectations. Sometimes the deepest conversations about death happen without ever mentioning the word.