Aging Parents

Sorry, everyone: my dad fell and broke the top vertebra in his neck. My sister and I spent some time at my parents’ house, figuring some things out. Or trying to.

The reason my dad is not paralyzed is arthritis. The vertebra snapped in two places, making a single piece surrounding his spinal cord and two side pieces–all held in place by the severe calcification of his bones due to advancing age.

My dad does not see this as lucky. He sees it as a minor inconvenience. My mom spends a lot of time trying to convince him he cannot mow the lawn. You should have seen the home health nurse’s face when he asked her the same question.

We like feisty old people on television. A certain amount of orneriness keeps the elders alive, makes life worth living for them, etc. But when someone who has spent his whole life being the decision maker is confronted with the fact that some decisions have been taken out of his hands because he is broken, he may not listen.

And family dynamics will rise to the surface, and that charming Golden Girls fighting spirit will turn into a family fight. Of course elders don’t want to leave their home. And if the home is safe, working hard to make sure they don’t is your best bet.

When the home is not safe, stubbornness becomes danger. It is a difficult transition for adult children to make; a geriatric physician friend says “it’s difficult raising parents.”

At some point the irony kicks. You find yourself saying “I have done the best I can for you and yet you continue to fight what is best for yourself by labeling it ‘you just don’t understand’.” And then you bust out laughing because you remember this conversation in reverse somewhere around your junior year of high school.

Humor might save your sanity, but it won’t save the situation. If a family has spent a lifetime building up a specific form of communication best labeled as ‘avoidance,’ that dynamic will continue into the final years. And perhaps make them the wee bit miserable.

So now you know.

7 thoughts on “Aging Parents

  1. I’m so sorry you’re going through this. My brother and I recently lost our Mom thanks to Alzheimers, broken bones (that seemed to give permission to the Alzheimers to amp up), and all the “aging parents” stuff that just makes everything so much harder. I know how you’re feeling. Hang in there, sister/friend.

  2. I’m so sorry to hear that your Dad has fallen. My prayers are with you and your family as you navigate this whole situation.

  3. My husband never really had dementia, but in the summer before he went down with multiple myeloma, he complained that mowing the lawn hurt his bad knee. But he wouldn’t put in wildflowers instead.

    So, out went his wife to say “Let me do that, please? I need the exercise, and I can push the mower once you start it.”

    Luckily he had always had a Thing for women doing what he thought of as men’s work, so he’d let me mow and watch appreciatively. I realize some older men don’t share the kink. It might be necessary to bring in a young man who needs exercise, or needs to learn about lawnmowers.

  4. so sorry my friend. My 2 siblings and I, who fall into the “avoidance” method, just spent the last 8 months figuring out “what to do with Dad”. It was hard, eye opening and also beautiful as we 3 worked together even from long distances to find a good solution and he is now happy. In spite of himself.

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