Your Estranged Parent Is Dying- Should You Reconcile?

Recently, I asked our community a question: If you reconnected with your family after estrangement, how did it go?

The responses were powerful, painful, and deeply honest. And they echoed something I’ve seen again and again: reconciliation is rarely the fairy tale people imagine. It’s complicated. It’s messy. And sometimes—it’s even more painful than the estrangement itself.

When Illness or Death Pulls You Back To Estranged Family

When a parent becomes very ill or is dying, estrangement gets complicated. It’s one of the most common points where people get pulled back in.

And it makes sense. Mortality has a way of cutting through the noise. It puts everything into perspective. It strips life down to the simplest things.

When we really sit with it, most of us want just a few things: love, connection, and at the end of life, some kind of closure.

So when we hear words like illness, terminal, or time is short, our hearts often leap ahead of our heads.

Maybe now they’ll soften. Maybe now they’ll see me. Maybe now we’ll finally meet on equal ground.

We might think our siblings will come together, that the differences will fade because surely, now, things finally matter.

The Painful Reality

But here’s the hard truth: in many difficult families, it doesn’t go that way.

At best, people find themselves replaying old dynamics—no growth, no acknowledgement, no change. Just the same script as before.

And at worst, people get very deeply hurt. Because they come back openhearted, hopeful, wanting to show their best—and others see that as weakness.

As one person shared:

“I reconnected when my dad was dying. It was pretty awful. My mom was worse than ever.”

That’s not reconciliation. That’s repetition.

Trying to reconcile with toxic family when a parent is dying can leave us open to more harm.

When Morality Breaks Down

This repetition isn’t bad luck or timing—it’s a moral breakdown.

All moral systems are built on mutuality: if it’s good for you, it’s good for me. The same rules apply to both of us.

But in toxic or narcissistic family systems, those rules don’t apply equally. Some people’s needs always come first. Others barely register at all.

One person described it this way:

“Despite my best efforts, there was no interest in building a relationship that contained me as a separate person. My father called it ‘differences in moral values.’ Now the painful process of grieving a person who only existed in my imagination can begin.”

Death doesn’t erase the lack of mutuality—it exposes it.

The Second Round of Exile

That’s why, for some, funerals or final visits feel less like closure and more like a second exile.

Smear campaigns. Public shaming. Performative affection when the crowd is watching, cruelty when they’re not.

One person said:

“After my father died, my sisters didn’t even tell me where his ashes were scattered. I decided to move on. They’re not in my life anymore—and I’m at peace.”

It’s not reconciliation. But it is clarity.

And clarity, as painful as it can be, is its own kind of peace.

If You’re in This Position

If illness or death is pulling you back toward a family you left, please move with great care.

Listen closely to what you need—and what you don’t. Don’t fall into fairy-tale thinking. Don’t expect a deathbed to fix decades of imbalance.

Some people find peace in private ceremonies, personal rituals, or quiet acts of closure. Even funeral directors understand these dynamics—they can arrange private viewings or separate spaces if needed.

Because the truth is, death doesn’t force reconciliation. Reconciliation requires mutuality, respect, and equality.

And if those things weren’t there in life, they’re unlikely to appear at the end.

The Real Peace

Maybe the real peace isn’t in forcing reconciliation. Maybe it’s in honoring your own dignity—in living by the moral code that others couldn’t or wouldn’t uphold.

Death may be the great equalizer, but only if everyone is willing to see each other as equals.

And if they won’t? Then no, death won’t bring reconciliation.

But it can bring clarity. And sometimes, clarity is the deepest peace we’ll ever find.

If you’re in the thick of this, please take care of yourself. You don’t have to face these moments alone.

Until next time, take care,

C xx