When I was little, if I scraped my knees, my Mom was at my side pretty quickly with some hugs and maybe even a Popsicle.
But if I was running a 102-degree fever and couldn’t keep anything down, chances were good that my Mom or Dad would call the pediatrician for an appointment.
Growing up, it just seemed like my parents (and especially my Mom) had an innate knowledge of when they could solve a problem for me and when it was time to call in for backup.
Fast forward a bit, and I’m an adult now too. I have a family of my own, and all of the wonderful responsibilities and business that goes along with it. My parents are both still alive, and although I’m not sure any of us want to admit this, they are getting up in years.
Recently, they have begun to talk more and more about their physical ailments with me. And sometimes they tell me things about their lives, thoughts, and feelings that concern me.
This has got me to thinking: like so many other people living in the “sandwich generation”, it is now my turn to decide when I can help my parents solve their problems and when it’s time to call in for backup. And I’m discovering that sometimes, this is really easier said than done.
Take for example my father, who told me that he was saddened by a close friend of his who recently acted very unkindly to him. I listened, let him get it all off his chest, and gave him a hug and cookie or two (he likes those better than Popsicles). The friend has since apologized and all is well so I think this situation is resolved for now.
But then you have my mother, who tends to fret endlessly about all sorts of things from her health to the health of others, her neighbors, and other things. She has always been a bit of a worrier, but when does it become too much?
And there have been several times lately when both of them have ventured into the “TMI” territory with me, often with my children present. I’ve read articles that state that disclosing inappropriate information can be a sign of dementia. But where do we draw the line?
I want my parents’ final years to be healthy and happy ones. And I accept that I will play a role in making sure this happens, as much as conceivably possible. But like many other people who are in the same boat with their aging parents, I could really use some help and guidance.
Basically, I need to know when the troubles our elderly parents going through can be treated with a virtual Popsicle, and when it is time to call in for help.
If anyone has “been there/done that” I would love to hear from you. I would also welcome feedback from people who have similar questions. I want to help my parents, but I don’t want to be a helicopter daughter in their final years. But when they need assistance, I want to help them get it, just as they did so often for me when I was growing up.