We-ell… here, you can think about my mum for a bit. She seems to be waiting for me to hire tree removal people, an electrician, house painters and a fence builder. And she put me and my brother on one of her checking accounts. But she was very worried we’d spend her money. And she tortured the fence builder I was gonna get, so I had to drop that. And her preferred electrician won’t come up our steps - he’s too old. And she got my brother to clean up the laundry room by throwing everything in the tv room. She’s of sound mind. She’s always been like this…

Thank you, Suz.

One of the many hard parts of elder care, it turns out, is the tut-tutting from the sidelines when you dare express any frustration...

April, I admire how you are handling this situation, with compassion, realism and a sense of humour. This Thread is important, because for many of us, we have or are dealing with these issues, whether as the child or looking into the future and being a dependent elder.

I want my son to remember his parents as caring and considerate. I hope DH and I accept our fate with grace and put in place appropriate plans and actions, so our son is not faced with the daunting task of having to be the bad guy or dreads having to pick up a call from his parents.

I agree with Bijou and almost wrote the same yesterday. I’m learning so much from watching my parent grow old (quickly, it seems). My sister and I laugh because crying does no good. I also have frank discussions with my young adult children about all their grandmother’s issues, since they are watching from the sidelines. This is a phase of life I never saw, nor did my parents.

One thing I do constantly is remind my kids how much I love them, saying if I am incapable to tell them that someday, they can hold this memory in their hearts.

I learned so many valuable lessons from my parents (mother died at 68 from cancer, father at 79 from Lewy Body Dementia) about what to do and not to do in my own life. Parent-care is so very emotionally and physically and financially difficult that carers need safe places to let off steam and to just cry. I am trying to remind myself and my spouse about the lessons learned through experience so that we can lighten the load for our only child in a future that we cannot predict. Steven Petrow has written a witty and sober book about getting ready for that time: Stupid Things I Won't Do When I Get Old. https://stevenpetrow.com/

NancyW's book recommendation reminds me of a great, sad, and hilarious podcast called Let's Not Be Kidding, by a son whose mom has Alzheimer's. Well worth a listen. (Apologies if I've mentioned this before.)

Interesting comments.

I spent 9 years trying to help my parents maintain control and agency over their lives, home, health and choices, well prior to the time it became critical. They chose to completely ignore reality. We had all witnessed what my husband and his parents had gone through, so it was not like there wasn't a concrete example, much less common sense.

I have said to friends and a therapist or 2, what can I do with all of this experience and learning I've been through? And suffering? It cannot be enough to just survive it. So, that is why I feel compelled to share here, and elsewhere. Maybe it will help others. It certainly is still therapeutic for me.

A big part of the learning for me has been what we will not do to our kids - we will not! We are already much better organized legally and financially. And we are talking out loud about our current living situation at ages 62 and 70, and what our next step will be. If we buy a new home it will have single level living. If we stay too long in our home with stairs, we will not refuse to put in a stair glide. Or hire help. If we feel / are unsafe driving, we will take Uber/Lyft. And 50 other things my parents would never do. I've included our sons, especially my older one who is most likely to help us when we need it eventually, in all of this. I've even told Danny, "you should write down that on December 17, 2023 I said x, y, z so you can read it directly back to me if I am resisting your help!"

The points raised about processing childhood trauma without imposing it on very elderly parents are valid. And, thank you, Suz for perfectly articulating why it is helpful to be able to share here.

I haven’t responded because this is so painful. I found that when my dad was frail, I had another round of anger and grief about the relationship I wished I could have had with my parents, because it was abundantly clear we were near the end and nothing was going to change. It was overwhelming at times. We did have a few months of grace towards the very end where he was actually kind, but that didn’t make up for the chaos along the way. On a separate track, you have to put aside that grief and help where they will let you help. Securing the checkbook is major; hopefully next time you can make progress on something else.

This is so difficult. Our parents are all out of the picture, after many of the problems mentioned. Loss of financial acumen, cognitive issues, and multiple complaints and disabilities. Troubleshooting from a distance. Chats with siblings.
And here we are, getting the disabled placard for our car, sussing out mobility aids, and making sure the passwords are all shared. DH is 81 and older than I am and just as stubborn as our parents, lol
It hasn’t been easy losing the easy physical companionship and the sturdy work partner. Our life and expectations must keep changing as the abilities change.
Being an organizer I try to get plans and pieces in place for the next stage, before it gets dire. Hah.
I don’t think you can. The elder person has strong feelings, the bureaucracy/social help/medical systems are often meager or unavailable, and you yourself (me, in this case) may be getting older and less able. Timing is completely out of our hands, so it’s all going to be a surprise.
There is no clear path to proper care and a good death. We have to imagine it and hope we have the mental and physical resources to make it work.
I have given up rigid plans, and cut myself a lot of slack. DH still calls his own shots, and that makes him happy. Which is a goal. So what if we have no stair ramp?

I'm a caregiver too- for my mom and FIL (DH and I are both only children). Luckily no cognitive issues, just mobility, mom's blindness, and lots of medical appointments. It's the part of aging no one talks about!

It's hard to do it all and work. There's a lot more understanding with employers, and society in general, for taking care of children than parents. Luckily my bosses let me be part time (4 days a week), but it's still a lot.

I hear those of you who are beginning to identify more with the aged parents than the caregiving youngers (even as you are also still caregiving or at least in a companion role.) Mr. Suz is considerably older than I am. We are fortunate that (so far) he enjoys excellent health and apart from what we jokingly call "benign senescent forgetfulness" his mind is acute. But we are aware, there is a time stamp on this and we want to enjoy this time we have. It is as difficult for a partner, sometimes, to have those conversations with their partner as it is for a child to have those conversations with a parent and as Olive Green points out, there is always a contest between what makes the person happy, and keeping them safe, or preventing emergency situations. It's not easy to find a way through this and I don't think there are any right answers for anyone. Each situation is a bit different.

After the experience of caring for my mother (and now living with an aging spouse in his late eighties), I wholeheartedly agree with Olive Green. We can do all the “right” things—get documents drawn up, have talks with family members, and organize our affairs so it will be supposedly easier for another party to assume the responsibilities for our care—but all of that is just the tip of the iceberg. Like Olive Green, I’m an organizer, but planning an international conference was a piece of cake compared to what I learned about the complexities of aging while caring for my mother.

I wasn’t going to add to this thread because so many of the responses to my earlier comment seemed to think I was being critical of April for venting her frustrations. Nothing could have been further from my intention. Anyone who has ever assumed the role of looking after aging parents is fully aware of how frustrating, depressing, and dismaying it is to assume responsibility for another adult’s well-being. Letting off steam goes with the territory.

I remember being in a campground in Jackson Hole, Wyoming. We had the least impressive set up there, million dollar motor homes were in the majority. One particularly gorgeous and huge unit pulled in, a little old lady popped out, and she unloaded a motorcycle with a side car from a bin under the coach. An absolutely beaming old fella, clearly a bit demented, was helped out of the bus, into the side car, he donned a vintage leather flying helmet, and they roared off to see the sights, him cackling in delight, and me tearing up.
My spirit animals for aging!

Gaylene, I apologize if I misread the tone of your earlier comment. And I'm very sorry you are facing the challenges you're currently facing. There's no question that this time of life is confusing and stressful and often very sad for so many of us, whether it's our parents, our partners, or ourselves that we are frightened for -- or often, sadly, all three at once!

After a horrid period in which I refused to speak to my mother by phone for over 2 years, we now play Wordle by phone every day. (She has an analog set-up we devised with a magnetic whiteboard.)

Some days she has trouble holding onto any of the rules of the game; some days she outperforms my sister and me. Things wax and wane.

My approach is to "meet her where she is" and apply no pressure regarding where she isn't. For example, she has gotten into the habit of asking my father every fact she can't summon, the second she gets stuck. Understandable, except it makes him crazy and he then pressures and insults her ("Come on, you know this!" "Can't you remember ANYTHING?") I know he's terrified and embarrassed by her lapses but making her feel worse isn't helpful. When she gets stuck during our conversations, I usually say, no problem, go about your day, it will come to you eventually and then you'll write it down.

Not sure if that is the best approach, but I learned from Mr. A's mom that it's pointless to jump in with information or corrections. We spent months of her Lewy Body dementia telling her things (hallucinations, paranoid beliefs) were not real. Then we just began saying, "That sounds hard," or "That sounds scary."

I get it. Both the relationship angst with the parent, and the process of aging affecting me and DH. I worked in the field of ‘disability management’ for 32 years, so I’m always projecting worst case scenarios and planning ahead. Bought an accessible house (flat approach, all on one level, mostly open concept) at 54 so DH can ‘age in place’. Currently putting together a binder of ‘what to do if…’ It’s no longer enough to have a will and POA’s. Now you’ve got to have a Personal Care Directive.

So sorry, April. It’s a lot and very relatable due to my own mom. Thanks Suz. You articulated it very well.

Oh I have no solutions for the difficulties that are going on here with those of you with aged parents or spouses. My parents are gone now, it's been nearly ten years, and had difficulties ( one with Parkinson's, the other, cancer) at the end, but no dementia. There is so little dignity in aging, isn't there?

Also, on homes on one level...I do recall Betty White in an interview saying that her poor memory and her two story house kept her quite fit, looking for things she'd misplaced and having to take the stairs to look for them :). I find stairs a great fitness thing lately, as it's' actually a weight bearing activity, providing one holds on tight to the railing.

Despite us four surviving children encouraging my parents to relocate to somewhere smaller and on one level (they didn't outright refuse, they just didn't respond) they stayed put and having their rural (two story) home they'd retired to, in a small town where they knew so many people, meant everything for them. And for us too, as they both died there a year apart, and we got to be with them during that time.

Not much new to report, save that my dad will turn 87 on Wednesday. He's doing well enough. Occasionally leaves the house without turning on their Jitterbug phone, which she cannot do, therefore leaving her with no way to call 911 (or him) in an emergency, but this doesn't happen often.

Unclear why the Jitterbug is powered off each and every night; I'm sure he has his reasons.

BTW, I specifically emailed my dad to say he could pick a time when he'd like to go over Mom's cognitive testing results and got no response. (Before, I had merely said that I had received the results and left the rest to him.) Reinforces my view that he doesn't want to know. Can't say I blame him, except for my own selfish purposes: it would light a little more fire under his butt about writing down some decisions NOW in case he can't later.

ETA for those who are new to this saga, I am a clinical, developmental, and school psychologist by training and know my way around explaining test results. My mother participated in cognitive testing in May of 2023 and then again in December. The latest round ended in a diagnosis of "early dementia" (not early-onset, she's 86.) She's mad that this is now in her medical charts: "That's not very nice." No, it isn't, but would you like your medical records to fib?