Tuesday, November 1, 2011

Truly Sad and Sadly True...

As an only child, I was the focus of my parent’s existence. I lived my life to enhance theirs; I was on the honor role in high school, made Dean’s List in college, married, and gave them a brilliant grandson.  Once they got older, I moved to Florida to continue my role as the perfect daughter, but everything changed when I was forced to reverse our roles, and suddenly I became the parent.

As my Dad became mentally and physically weaker, my mother made herself his primary caretaker with a martyr’s diligence.  My proposals to hire outside assistance to lighten her load fell on deaf ears, and despite her complaints of fatigue and a lack of freedom, she persevered in her mission to manage his care. Then, after he died, left without a sense of purpose, she suddenly became needy, depressed, belligerent, and extremely defensive.

Although I desperately tried to help her, she rejected every idea or suggestion. During this time, I had my own set of problems; I was going through a divorce, owned a flower business, and held down a second job to make ends meet. She lived three hours away on Florida’s opposite coast. I found myself rushing across Alligator Alley at least twice a month to respond to her pleas for assistance.

Finally, I packed her possessions and moved her, despite her protests, to the West Coast to live with my son and me. Although she pouted and cried, I continued to harbor an unrealistic expectation that moving her would change her attitude, and that her new surroundings would encourage her to appreciate my company as well as that of her only grandchild.

Oh, how wrong I was! During our final two years together she resented the arrangement I had forced on her and never hesitated to remind me. She withdrew from my son, from both her friends and mine, and she declined rapidly, as much from her attitude as from her physical decline. Nothing I tried seemed to satisfy her. She even hated our dog. In turn, I became resentful, and often failed to hide my feelings. I verbally lashed out at her and she lashed out at me.  There ensued an unhappy dance between the two of us that made both our lives miserable and unhappy. It finally ended when we shared a pitiful "I love you" hours before she died.

 Years later a series of unpredictable events has led me to a career in senior housing, and now, as a manager of an assisted living community, I have discovered that conflict between adult children and their parents is not uncommon. Ironically, I spend my days consoling others, who are just as confused as I was, and gently guide them in making decisions and finding viable solutions.

I am now aware that the Mother, who so resented me and was critical and verbally abusive, suffered her own sense of bewilderment. She experienced the loss of her independence, a diminishing physical presence, and a failing memory. She needed me to understand; I didn’t, and regretfully, I was unable to empathize.

Those needing assistance will increase as our population ages, as will the number of children sandwiched between simultaneously taking care of their kids and their parents.  I am grateful that I have been given the opportunity to help to turn a sad, hurtful episode between my mother and myself into a useful and positive legacy of service to others in a similar situation.  

3 comments:

  1. insightful and well-written--a comfort to people going through the same thing

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  3. Oh Karen how much you and I have experienced similar paths in life. I to came to this industry as a result of taking care of my mother until she passed. I learned that not only was I ingnorant to what assistance was out there but so were many of the Doctors we reached out to. My mission became to understand the Senior Industry and to be a source of information for the family's that I have been so blessed to work with. Even if I was unable to provide the service they were lookng for,I would provide them with resources in assisting them to gain resolve to their situation.

    God Bless you Honey,

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