What they want to know vs. what they don't — following their lead
This article is for informational purposes only and does not constitute medical, legal, or financial advice. Always consult with qualified professionals regarding your specific situation.
Your father asks you what dying will feel like. Your mother asks you nothing at all, but you wonder if she's thinking about it. Your sister asks to know all the medical details, every possibility. Your brother says, "I don't want to talk about this," and means it.
People approach death with different needs, different desires for information, different ways of coping. Some want to know everything. Some want to know nothing. Most are somewhere in between, wanting certain information but not others. Your job in these conversations isn't to give a standard speech about dying. It's to follow their lead, to answer what they're asking and not push what they're not.
Reading the Room
The first step is listening to what they're actually asking. Your parent might ask, "Will it hurt?" That's a specific question, and it deserves a specific answer. They might ask, "How long do you think I have?" They might ask, "What happens if I have a stroke?" or "Can I still go to my grandson's graduation?" These are real questions with real concerns underneath.
But they might also not ask anything. They might avoid the topic. They might seem like they want information but then not want it. They might ask one question and when you answer, they say, "That's enough. I don't want to know more." This too is information. This is them telling you their limits.
Some people are afraid of the information itself. They know that once they hear certain things, they can't unhear them. If you tell them that dying of their illness often means weeks of increasing difficulty breathing, that knowledge will sit with them. They might prefer not to know.
Some people manage fear through information. They want all the details, all the possibilities, because not knowing feels scarier than knowing. They think if they understand it all, they can prepare, can control something, can be less afraid. Information is their coping mechanism.
Some people don't think about their death at all, or they think about it in abstract terms. They're not in denial, exactly. They just don't want it to be real, and making it real through detailed conversation would make it real.
Answering Honestly but Not Harshly
When they do ask something, you owe them honesty. This is not the time to shield them or offer false comfort. But honesty doesn't mean being harsh or graphic.
If they ask, "Will I be in pain?" you might say, "Pain can happen at the end of life, but we have very good medications now to manage it. If you were in pain, we'd work with your doctors to control it. You wouldn't be left suffering." This is honest—pain can happen—and also reassuring,it can be managed.
If they ask, "How long do I have?" you might say, "No one can know for sure, but your doctor thinks you have several months. It could be shorter, or it could be longer. The important thing is that we don't know, so we focus on making the best of the time you have." This is honest about the uncertainty and also redirects toward what matters,time they have now.
If they ask, "What is the dying process like?" you can describe it without being horrifying. "Your body slows down gradually. Your breathing might change. You might sleep more. At the very end, your heart stops." You can add comfort: "People on hospice are kept comfortable, so they're not frightened or in pain."
If they ask something you don't know, say so. "I don't know, but I can ask your doctor" or "That's a great question for the palliative care specialist." Don't make up information or pretend certainty you don't have.
When They Ask What Happens When They're Dying
Some people want a narrative of the dying process. What will they experience? What will their body do? How will they feel? This is a difficult thing to describe because every person's death is different, but there are some common things you can share.
You might say, "As your illness gets worse, your body gradually uses more of its energy just to breathe and keep going. You might feel more tired. You might not want to eat as much. You might sleep more. Your breathing might change,it might get faster, or slower, or have pauses in it. Your hands and feet might get cooler as the body focuses blood toward the heart and brain. At the very end, breathing might become very shallow and then stop."
You can also say, "We don't know exactly how it will happen for you, but your doctors will monitor you and help you stay comfortable. You won't be alone. We'll be there."
Some people want to know about pain. You can honestly say, "Pain can happen, but it's usually manageable with medication. Some people have no pain at all. We'll ask you regularly if you're in pain and adjust medications to keep you comfortable."
Some want to know about being conscious. "You might drift in and out of consciousness near the end. You might not be aware of what's happening around you. That's actually often a mercy,you're not frightened or suffering, you're just letting go." This is honest and also frames it as potentially peaceful.
When They Ask What They Want to Know
Some people won't ask anything. They'll change the subject when you bring it up. They'll say, "I don't want to talk about this." You have to respect that. But you can still offer information once. "I know it's hard to think about. I'm here if you ever want to know anything. You can ask me anytime." Then let it go.
Some people will ask about very specific things. One person might want to know about pain, but nothing else. Another might want to know about consciousness, about whether they'll be scared, about what their family should do. Follow what they're asking. Answer that question. Don't assume they also want information about other aspects.
Some people want religious or spiritual information. "What do you think happens after death?" "Will I see my husband again?" "Is there heaven?" These are theological questions, and you might say, "I believe..." or "Our faith teaches..." or "I don't know, but that's a good question for our pastor." You share what you believe or know, and you don't pretend to have answers about mysteries.
When They Change Their Mind
A person might ask a lot of questions one day and then say, "I don't want to talk about this anymore" the next day. They might want information now but not later, or not now but later. This is normal. The process of accepting mortality isn't linear. One day you're ready to know things. The next day it feels like too much.
If someone asks a question and then wants to take it back, let them. "Actually, I don't want to know the answer to that." You stop. You don't insist on telling them.
If someone says they want to know everything and then gets overwhelmed, you stop and say, "We can take this at whatever pace feels right. There's no rush. We can talk about it in pieces, over time."
Your Own Discomfort
One of the hardest parts of following their lead is managing your own discomfort. You might want to know things they don't want to know. You might want to discuss things they're avoiding. You might want to push because you feel like there are conversations that need to happen.
But this conversation is not for you. It's for them. Your job is to answer their questions and to respect their boundaries, not to process your own feelings about their death by making them talk about it.
If you have questions they won't answer, you can ask their doctor. You can talk to a therapist or a chaplain about your own fears. But with them, you follow their lead.
This is one of the ways you show love at the end of life. Not by forcing conversations, but by honoring what they need, what they can handle, what brings them peace.
How To Help Your Elders is an informational resource for families working through aging and elder care. We are not medical professionals, attorneys, or financial advisors. The information provided here is for educational purposes and should not replace professional consultation. Every family's situation is unique, and rules, costs, and availability vary by location and circumstance.