When you are the parent of your parent

My parents shortly after they married. Maybe spring of 1945. They married December 29, 1944.

Barry and I ran into a classmate of his at Walmart yesterday. In small towns, that’s what we do. It’s where we see everybody. Personally, I hate going to Walmart, but that is the topic of an entirely different blog. Let’s just call it an almost necessary evil in Small Town, USA. Walmart, however, is more than a shopping destination. It’s a social scene as well. It’s not uncommon to have to navigate your cart around people chatting in the middle of the aisle. We were blocking shoppers on the soft drink aisle, but we did try to move out of the way. But Barry and Susie needed to talk They needed to talk to someone who had experienced what they’ve experienced. They both lost both of their parents this year, within the space of a few months In Barry’s case, two months.

We are still coping with realizing that Barry’s parents are gone. Their illnesses were short. Their departure from this world was swift. They lived independently until the end. So we weren’t expecting it. We weren’t ready.

Yet, we are glad it happened quickly. We are glad they didn’t suffer and linger for a long time. I know Barry thinks about them every day. Just as I still think about my dad every day, and he passed away five years ago. If you have a good relationship with your parents, you will always think of them. That’s just the way it is.

But as Barry and Susie talked, I was thinking about how our generation is coping with caring for aging parents. More and more people are living well into their 80s, but for most, their abilities decline in that decade. They must rely upon others to do things like drive them places at night, change light bulbs in the ceiling, even take the garbage down to the road. Their short-term memory is worse, and they tell the same stories over and over. And over and over. And we smile and listen as though it’s the first time we’ve heard it.

My mother will be 90 this month. I researched the percentage of Americans living to that age, and in 2011, the number was 1.9 million, with 74% of them women. 1.9 million sounds like a lot, but that is pretty small compared to our 350 million plus population. I’m not even going to try to do the math to get the percentage. Her health overall is pretty good, although she doesn’t think so, with most of her issues being her lack of mobility due to knee and hip problems. Her sister lives with her, and my cousin and I make sure they have what they need and do things for them that they can’t do for themselves.

But I’m going to be honest. It’s hard taking care of an aging parent. It’s hard logistically. Every time there’s an issue, I have to drive across town. At least I don’t live in a city. Sometimes it’s hard physically. Lifting a wheelchair and putting it in the trunk of the car, for instance. At times I feel like Barry and I are taking care of two households, although Mom and her sister do most of their own housecleaning. I just have to do the deep stuff. But repairs and maintenance — we do them. I take Mom to her doctors’ appointments, and at her age, there are plenty. It’s hard emotionally. You worry about them. You get frustrated with them. Maybe you shouldn’t, but you do. They can be more stubborn than a two-year-old. Some aging parents are more needy than others. Maybe you have to take care of their finances. Maybe you have to talk to them ten times a day because he or she calls frequently. Maybe they are fearful — of someone breaking in, of the night, of storms, of dying — and you must be the one to give them emotional strength.

You hurt for them. You want to fix things. You wish they were emotionally stronger. You wish they were the young, strong parents who took care of you instead of the weak, aging parents you must now care for.

You’re glad to do things for them. After all, they raised you, loved you, took care of you, were there for you when you needed them. But it’s hard to go from being the cared-for to the care-giver.

I’ve been doing it for years. My dad was pretty much bedridden for a year and a half before he passed away, and I got used to checking on them and taking care of their needs before he died. But for many, it’s new territory. If you are entering that territory, I have these suggestions.

1. They need to hear from you or see you every day. If you live out of town, call them. Let them know you are available.
2.  Some parents will take advantage of you. Learn to discern what is a real need and what is a want. Older people tend to want things fixed — now. They don’t understand you have a job and other obligations that might keep you from being able to get to their house to move that heavy table out of one corner into another.
3. Make sure they are eating well. They lose their appetites, and they stop cooking, especially if they live alone. Take leftovers. Buy something at a restaurant. Buy Boost or Ensure for them. Mom likes vanilla Boost. My father-in-law liked chocolate. It’s good for them and tastes good.
4. Make time for yourself. Do something you enjoy. Don’t feel guilty when you go out with friends or take short trips. Mom panics every time I leave town, but I make sure she is going to be taken care of. That doesn’t keep her blood pressure from going sky-high, but my cousin or son give her the medicine to bring it down and then she copes.
5. Some parents are more demanding than others, and that can be irritating. My mom doesn’t demand. She just drops hints. She really doesn’t want me doing so much, but she knows she has no choice. I have to do her grocery shopping for her, because she can’t. Some parents, however, may remind you on a regular basis of how you should be helping them and if you don’t, you’re not a good child. It can drive you crazy, literally. Find a way to cope while still meeting their actual needs.
6.  Find someone you can vent to. You’re human. Things will bother you, in spite of your best intentions. Sharing may help you cope with the stress. Feeling this way doesn’t mean you don’t love your parent(s). It just means you’re human, and you get tired. Don’t be unkind to your parent, but find someone you can talk to. Or journal. Acknowledge your feelings. I have to pray about things on a regular basis, because I just get so tired. I wish I didn’t, but I do.
7.  Seek counseling if needed. Sometimes you need someone to help you put things in perspective.

There is much more to say about this topic, but it’s important to remember that everyone’s experience is different, but everyone’s personality is different. Including your parent’s.

Remember, we may live to be old and relying on others someday. I have already given my sons permission to place me in a nursing home if I get to the point I can’t take care of myself. I think that’s important because my own parents made it known that they would rather die than be in a nursing home. That’s a lot of emotional baggage for someone. How will I feel if my mom requires 24-hour nursing care? If I have to place her in a nursing home because I cannot give her the proper care? Nursing homes are not ideal, but in some cases, it’s the only choice.

Taking care of our parents is an obligation, and we do it out of love. That doesn’t mean it isn’t challenging. That doesn’t mean it’s all roses and happy times. But taking care of them means you care.

And we owe them that.