What the hell is anticipatory grief?

2025 has been quite the year for me. Let me see if I can distill it down to a few paragraphs.

My stepdad, who has been in my life for 45 years has had a heart ablation, shoulder surgery, and we are waiting for a hip replacement in August. He is a bone marrow recipient, so every surgery creates its own obstacles and feels nerve wracking.

My biological father was diagnosed with bladder cancer a few years ago. We learned several months ago that it has spread. He started his third round of chemotherapy in April. Today he went for a CT scan. The results and next steps come on Friday. This is further complicated by my stepmothers Alzheimer’s which has worsened dramatically over the last year. She is unable to make medical decisions for my father and that responsibility is now mine. I do not mind the responsibility.

As my husband and I left Florida in April, after spending nine days with my dad sterilizing his house , I got a call from one of my two best friends. Cancer. Stage Four. I am so glad she called. It knocked me to my knees.

My mother is wrapped in bubble wrap in the closet. She is not allowed out for the near future.

It is only July, and it all feels so fucking heavy. I learned about anticipatory grief from my own therapist. Anticipatory grief in the emotional response we experience when we are preparing for a loss that has not occurred yet, like a loved one’s declining health, a relationship ending, death, or even a major life change. As the year went on, I noticed several symptoms. I cried at the drop of a hat. I was exhausted all the time. I was scared. How was I going to show up for my clients when everything felt so hard. I was fairly sure my husband had no idea what to do for me.

So, I started doing the things I often talk to my clients about.