The three conversations to have before everything changes

Most families wait until something happens to talk about what Mum or Dad actually wants. By then, you're making decisions in a hospital corridor at 2am, trying to interpret what "I never want to be a burden" actually means.

Here's what we know: 86% of Australians don't have plans for this stage of life. Not because they don't care, but because these conversations feel impossible to start. Too heavy. Too final. Too much like admitting something neither of you wants to face.

But here's the thing - these don't have to be Big Serious Conversations™. They're just conversations. And having them before a crisis hits is one of the greatest gifts you can give each other.

 

When something does happen - a fall, a diagnosis, a sudden decline - you'll be dealing with doctors, assessments, urgent decisions about care, and your own fear and exhaustion. That's not the time to be guessing what matters most to your parent.

These three conversations give you something solid to hold onto when everything else feels unstable. They help you make decisions that actually align with what your parent wants, not just what seems practical in the moment.

 

 

Your parent might resist. They might say "we don't need to talk about this now" or "I'm not planning to go anywhere." That's normal. These conversations require them to acknowledge their own vulnerability, which is uncomfortable for everyone.

But avoiding them doesn't make anyone safer. It just means you'll be having these conversations under the worst possible circumstances … or not having them at all.

 

What you're really asking

If things change and you need help, what do you want your life to look like as you get older?

This isn't about medical directives or legal documents (though we'll get there). This is about understanding what would make life worth living for your parent if they couldn't do everything they can now.

Questions to explore

• What does a good day look like for you right now? What matters most in your daily routine?

• If you needed help or more care, where would you want to be? At home? Close to family? In your current community?

• What would feel like losing yourself  - versus just adapting to change?

• What are you most worried about if you can't live independently?

• How do you feel about accepting help? From family? From paid carers?

What you're listening for

The details are beneath the answers. When Mum says "I want to stay at home," does she mean her actual house, or does she mean maintaining her independence? When Dad says "I don't want to be a burden," is he worried about your time, your money, your resentment, or something else entirely?

You're trying to understand the why behind the what, because that's what will guide decisions later.

How to start 

Skip the dramatic preamble. You don't need to sit them down for a "we need to talk" moment. Try something like:

• "I was reading about how most people don't have plans for if they need care. Made me realise we've never really talked about what you'd want. Can we talk about it?"

• "I've been thinking about what it would look like if you needed help one day. What matters most to you if that happens?"

• "A friend's going through this with her dad right now, and it made me realise I don't actually know what you'd want. Can we talk through it?"

If they resist

"I know this feels uncomfortable. But I'd rather have this conversation now when we can really think it through together, instead of trying to guess what you'd want in a crisis. I'm not trying to rush anything or take over. I just want to understand what matters to you."

 

What you're really asking

If there's a medical emergency, what do you want - and not want - done?

This is the conversation about medical decisions, advance care plans and directives, and the line between living and existing. It's heavy, but it's also essential. Without it, doctors may do everything possible to keep your parent alive, regardless of whether that's what they'd want.

Questions to explore

• Who would you want to speak for you if you couldn't speak for yourself? This is the foundational question. Everything else flows from it.

• Have you thought about what medical treatment you'd want if you couldn't communicate?

• How do you feel about life support, resuscitation, or aggressive treatment if recovery is unlikely?

• What would quality of life need to look like for treatment to feel worthwhile?

• What do you need the person speaking for you to know about your values and wishes?

• Have you documented any of this? (Advance Care Plan, Directive, Enduring Guardian)

What you're listening for

The distinction between "doing everything possible" and "doing everything that makes sense." Many people say they want everything done, but when you dig deeper, what they really mean is "I want to live a life that feels like my life."

You're trying to understand where their line is … the point at which extending life would conflict with living well.

But also (and this is crucial), you're listening for who they trust to hold that line for them.

Choosing who speaks for you when you can't is about more than picking the most responsible child or the one who lives closest. It's about who understands your values, who can handle the pressure of making hard decisions, and who doctors and family will actually listen to.

Your parent might choose you. They might choose a sibling. They might choose someone outside the family entirely. What matters is that they choose explicitly, rather than everyone assuming it'll be you because you're the eldest/the daughter/the one who usually does everything.

And whoever they choose needs to know not just what they want, but why. Because medical decisions aren't always clear-cut. "No life support" is easy to say, but harder to interpret when the situation is ambiguous. The person speaking for them needs to understand the values underneath the directive.

How to start 

Again, no need for high drama. Be direct but gentle:

• "If something serious happened and you couldn't speak for yourself, who would you want making medical decisions for you? And what would you want them to know?"

• "I want to make sure I understand what you'd want if something serious happened and you couldn't tell us. Have you thought about it?"

• "If there was a medical emergency and you couldn't communicate, what would you want us to know about your wishes?"

• "I was reading about Advance Care Plans and Enduring Guardians. Have you thought about who you'd want speaking for you medically, and what you'd want documented?"

If they deflect with "just do what the doctors think is best"

"I hear you, but doctors don't know what matters most to you. They can tell us what's medically possible, but they can't tell us what you'd want your life to look like. That's what I need to understand."

If they choose someone else to speak for them

This might sting.
You're the one having this conversation, doing the research, thinking ahead - and they choose your brother who barely calls.

Try to separate your hurt from what's actually best. Sometimes parents choose based on who they think can handle the emotional weight, or who they believe doctors will take more seriously, or who's less emotionally entangled and can think clearly under pressure.

If they choose someone else, your job is to make sure that person is actually prepared. They need to have these same conversations. They need to understand the nuances. They need to know it's okay to call you for support when the time comes.

And honestly? Not being the medical decision-maker doesn't mean you can't be involved in care. It just means someone else has the final say when it comes to doctors.

The legal bit

This conversation should lead to actual documentation - an Advance Care Plan, a Directive and potentially appointing an Enduring Guardian. These vary slightly by state, but the principle is the same: they give legal weight to your parents' wishes.

We'll help you navigate the paperwork, but the conversation comes first.

Link to article: Understanding  Advance Care Plans, Directives and Enduring Guardianship.

 

What you're really asking

Who's doing what when care is needed, and how do we make sure this doesn't destroy us?

This might actually be the hardest conversation, because it's not just about your parent. It's about you, your siblings, money, time, resentment, and all the old family dynamics that resurface under stress.

But if you don't have it, you'll default into roles based on proximity, gender, guilt, or who speaks up loudest. And that rarely ends well.

Questions to explore

• If Mum or Dad needs help, who's able to be involved? In what ways?

• How do we make decisions together? Who has final say?

• What if we disagree about what's best?

• How do we share the load fairly? (Time, money, coordination, emotional labour)

• What happens if the primary carer gets overwhelmed?

• How do we talk about money without it getting weird?

What you're listening for

Honesty about what people can manage. Honesty about capacity. Your brother might want to help equally, but if he lives interstate and has three kids under five, his capacity isn't the same as yours. That's not a moral failing, it's just reality.

You're also listening for unstated expectations. The assumption that you'll do more because you're the daughter, or live closer, or are "better at this stuff." Those assumptions need to be surfaced and examined, or they'll turn into resentment.

How to start 

Ideally, this conversation includes everyone who'll be involved in care decisions: your parent, you, your siblings, maybe other key family members. If that's not possible, start with the people who'll be most involved and bring others in.

• "If Mum needs care, we need to talk about how we'll manage it as a family. Not just practically, but how we'll make decisions and support each other."

• "I want to make sure we're all on the same page about what's realistic for each of us if Dad needs help. Can we talk through it?"

• "This worked for [friend's family] when her mum needed care - they sat down early and figured out roles. Can we do the same?"

If siblings resist or minimise

"I know this might feel premature, but I've seen what happens when families don't talk about this stuff early. People end up feeling trapped or resentful, and it damages relationships. I'd rather figure out how we work together now, while we can actually think clearly."

The money conversation within the conversation

Money is often the most uncomfortable part. Who pays for what? Does care come out of your parents' savings, or do kids contribute? Is there an inheritance to consider, and does that change how care is funded?

You don't need all the answers now, but you need to acknowledge that money will be part of this. And if there's any family history of financial tension, you need to talk about how to handle it before it becomes a crisis.

 

Some parents refuse. They shut down the conversation, change the subject, or get angry. "I don't want to talk about this" becomes a wall you can't get through.

If that's your parent, you have a few options:

Try a different angle
Some people can't handle direct conversations about their own mortality, but they can talk about "planning" or "paperwork" or "making things easier for you." Frame it practically rather than emotionally.

Go incremental
Don't try to have all three conversations at once. Start with the easiest one (usually the first), and build from there. Sometimes people need to see that the conversation doesn't have to be devastating.

Bring in a third party
Sometimes parents will talk to a GP, solicitor, or financial planner when they won't talk to their kids. If you can, involve a trusted professional who can ask the questions you can't.

Document what you know
If they absolutely won't engage, write down what you do know about their values, preferences, and wishes based on things they've said over the years. It's not as good as having the conversation, but it's better than nothing.

Accept the limitation
Some parents will never have these conversations. If that's your reality, focus on what you can control - your own preparedness, your relationships with siblings, and understanding the care system. You can't force someone to plan, but you can plan around their refusal to plan.

 

Once you've had these conversations, don't let them fossilise. People's wishes change as they age, as their health changes, and as they experience friends going through care. Check in every year or two - not a full repeat of the conversation, just "anything changed in how you're thinking about this?"

And document what you learn. Not just formal documents like Advance Care Directives, but your own notes about the nuances of what they said. Because memory is unreliable, especially under stress.

 

Pick one conversation. Just one. And find a way to start it this week.

It doesn't have to be perfect. It doesn't have to cover everything. It just has to start.

Because the best time to have these conversations was five years ago. The second-best time is now, before something happens and you're wishing you had.