My son, expecting his first child, is reading the book “What to Expect, When You’re Expecting.”
“Mom,” he says, “Why didn’t you tell me this stuff?”
There’s a lot of “stuff” that nobody can really prepare you for, you have to find your own way through. And everybody’s experience is a little different.
Parenting is one example, later, it’s when you go from taking care of your kids to taking care of your parents. Nobody can really prepare you for it. Nobody’s experience will be the same and not even the bestsellers can help you deal with the emotions that come attached.
And it’s never easy.
One woman had to face telling her father he shouldn’t drive anymore. She recognized that he was not only a danger to others, but to himself. He had given up driving at night a few years ago, but most recently he was getting lost and when she rode with him one day to a nearby store, she said he ran a red light and barely stopped at a very familiar stop sign.
How do you have that conversation with your father? The man who taught you to drive. The man who took your car away as punishment the time you got a ticket for running a red light. She needs to, but she she hasn’t yet. It’s too hard.
For another, it’s about moving her parents back across the country because her father is sick and her mother is unable to care for him, alone, 24/7. Her parents moved to the southwest decades ago and now she has to find them a place near her, help them get packed, moved and resettled — all while she is working full-time and has two kids in college.
There are friends dealing with parents in assisted living facilities or nursing homes, trying desperately to be certain a beloved parent is cared for in the best possible way and there are others taking their aging parents into their home. Adjusting a lifestyle that was only recently – finally – getting used to being an empty nest.
It’s hard to see a parent or grandparent, someone who loved and nurtured you through life, suddenly become the person you have to care for.
Not only is it difficult to suddenly be in the role of caretaker for someone who was always taking care of you – but for those who were always in control and making decisions, it’s a painful and delicate time to have to turn to a child for assistance.
When my father was nearing the end of his life and very, very ill, there was a moment when I had to help him get out of the hospital bed and to the bathroom.
“I never wanted this for you,” he said in the saddest voice I’ve ever heard.
“You did it for me,” I whispered to him. “Now it’s my turn.”
That memory come back each time I hear a friend talking about parents dealing with dementia or serious health problems.
Nobody tells you what to expect.
Brenda’s column appears each Monday at noon.
Photo credit: harlandspinksphoto
Here is a sad example. My mom seems to have forgotten most of the past year of her life, including the fact that her beloved high-school-sweetheart-husband died last June. Most mornings, she wakes up not knowing where he is. We have to remind her of his death every day, and she goes through the initial grief every single day. Mom is not so far gone yet that we can just say, “Bill’s away,” or, “He’s having lunch with the guys.” She looks for him, and never finds him.
I’m so sorry, that sounds incredibly heartbreaking.
Been in that position, twice, and now I’m, what some of my friends call, an orphan. I don’t always like this stage of my life…
There are no words that will change any of your experiences. But I hope you find a little happiness each day.
No. No one tells you how this is going to be. While my mother is still highly functional, drives (during the day) and pretty much takes care of herself, all of her 5 kids decided several years ago it was best for her to live with one of us. Now she shares time with my youngest brother in Texas (during the winter) and my husband and me during the summer here in Michigan. It is hard to insist “Go get your hearing checked….” or “Let me help you with that…” Or….”MOM! You shouldn’t be doing that, that is too much for you to handle.” One of the saddest days was when she couldn’t finish that last round of golf we played together, because her aching back and legs just couldn’t take it. She LOVED golf and still talks that maybe one day, her back and legs will feel good enough for her to play. (Heavy sigh….)
She will be 84 on April 30. We are blessed she is still with us. Blessed she is still handling most things on her own and blessed she is still relatively healthy.
Excellent column…the last few lines strike a chord that no one reading will ever forget…keep up the good work!
Thank you Jason. Some memories never leave you.
84! That’s wonderful! How lucky she is to have such a caring family. I should ask to play golf with her – it might be my only chance to beat someone.
After helping take care of my husband’s parents when they both fell ill, it was my husband’s turn to be ill. The last ten years have been so stressful with it all, and with my own health declining. Sadly, my husband went to be with the Lord last November. I keep going back and forth between feeling guilt for being still here and then turn right around and miss him so very much.
Being an adult is sure a lot of hard work, and it doesn’t get any easier.
I’m so sorry for the trying times you have endured. But lucky were your in-laws that you were there to care for them. I’m so sorry for your losses, I hope that very thing soon you’ll find more reasons to smile than to be sad. There’s a lot left for you to enjoy.
The statement about helping your father get out of bed and to the bathroom hit home. My dad died in February and this happened almost exactly with us. Dad was a strong and independent person, he was ok when I told him it was my turn to help him.
It really isn’t hard to offer the support and help when you can remember how much your parents did for you. I know how hard it was for my dad and it broke my heart at the time, but I cherish the memory now, knowing I was able to give just a little, teeny bit back.
Pa passed just over a year ago from advanced Lewy Body Dementia. Now Ma, soon to be 90, lives with me.
Raising parents is hard ….
What a wonderful person you are to care for your parents. How lucky they are to have you.
The lighter side… My mother’s hearing is less than perfect. At some time every day, she does not hear what I say, and she asks,” Whaaat?” So, I repeat in a louder voice. And, she always takes offense, believes I am yelling at her, and tells people I am cross.Tom
LOL! It got to the point last summer Tom, when I would look at my Mom and say, “You didn’t hear a word I said, did you?” She would look very sheepish and say “No.” So I insisted she get her hearing tested when she returned to Texas to winter with my brother. She has hearing aids now, but doesn’t wear them half the time. :/
It’s funny how much we hate to admit to losing our hearing. I don’t think you’re alone in that experience.
How funny! My grandmother used to do the same thing, but she would look at me and say “Brenda, stop mumbling.” LOL
Brenda, thank you for the great column today! June 8th will be the first anniversary of my mom’s death. Since my dad died 3 years before her, she needed almost around the clock care. We could leave for a few hours at a time. She had the sharpest mind and memory, but her body was wracked with arthritis. You are right in saying that not everyone’s experience will be the same. I know it has only been close to one year, but I keep thinking she is waiting for me to come and fix a meal or bathe her, or whatever she needed.
Thanks again. Just writing this comment is a little healing, and I journal about this among many other things.
When so much of your time is devoted to caring for your parents, it is hard, after losing them, to adapt to the change. Took my mom a long time to get used to not having to care for my grandmother. She used to say some days she felt like she was forgetting something simply because so many hours weren’t caught up in caring for Grandma. I hope you find memories to make you smile and happy ways to fill that time you now have.