Me: So you didn’t live up to your ideals.

Client: That’s right.

Me: Do you think most people live up to their ideals?

Client: I guess they don’t.

Me: Most of us develop our ideals long before we encounter reality.

Client: Hmmmmm

More about Laurie Weiss

Jeanette had been trained to be the caretaker for her mother from the time she was a small child. Both parents had assured her that she was far more capable than her ‘fragile’ mother. She assumed the role in order to keep the family running smoothly and to keep her parents’ approval.

Jeanette left home, married, and successfully raised a family of her own. With some professional help she realized that she had focused her entire life around caring for others and barely knew how to take care of herself.

She learned that her own needs and feelings were as important as those of others. When the phone calls started, she was doing work she loved, and taking time to play.

Now Jeanette was experiencing a dilemma. Two years after her father’s death, her healthy but still helpless and fragile mother seemed unable to cope with life alone.

Jeanette felt terrible. She loved her mother and recognized that her mother’s behavior was a sign of real emotional distress. She also realized that to give in to her mother’s demands would cost her the life style she had worked so hard to achieve.

After much soul searching and consultation with her family, she decided that it was important to find a way to support her mother without compromising her own life style.

Mother was insistent that she did not want to leave her own home, so Jeanette and her siblings decided it would be best to find a way to keep her there and still be assured that responsible people were available to help her manage her life.

Jeanette found an agency that would send someone daily and help with whatever was necessary. She contacted her mother’s doctor, attorney, minister and neighbors and explained the situation to them.

When the support services were in place, she told her mother that she would check with the support people on the scene before deciding whether she really needed her physical presence.

Mother was not completely happy with the situation, but Jeanette reminded herself that mother had never been very happy anyhow.
Mother did test the situation, and Jeanette held firm to the limits she had established. She monitored her answering machine and returned phone calls when it was convenient.

Two months later, Jeanette was very pleased that although she still had frequent phone conversations with her mother, the demands on her time were greatly reduced. Relieved of the worry and pressure, she was even starting to enjoy their contacts.

Is this you? “I don’t need therapy, but I could use some advice about…”

{tags]Relationships, Self Help,Parents, Personal Growth,Aging Parents, CoDependency[/tags]

I had been told, “Come tonight, don’t wait. She may not last until morning.” As I threw things in my suitcase, I thought I was prepared for this inevitable time. I had assurances from friends that I could stay with them. I planned to rent a car-those were the rational plans, but 1 was shaking and knew I wouldn’t be a safe driver. Jon called my friend and she insisted on meeting me at the airport and taking me to the nursing home.

Mom was still alive when we arrived. Now what? I’ve never done this before! I’m scared — me, the competent professional helper — I don’t know what to do!

This isn’t the vibrant mother I knew; this isn’t even the shrunken, peaceful woman I had seen the week before. I tell her I’m here. I
kiss her and hold her hand. Her only response is a slight change in her very quiet breathing.

My friend shows me how to moisten my mother’s lips; she says “Talk to her, tell her how much you love her. Tell her about the happy times you remember. Sing to her.”

I sit. I talk. I pray. I moisten her lips. I touch. I pray. I talk. The nurses come and go; they tell me, “Hearing is the last thing to go. Talk to her.” I talk to Mom about letting go. I am assured that, if I go nap, I will be called if there is any change. 1 nap. I return. I moisten her lips. I sit. I talk. 1 pray. I even sing a little. Morning comes.

People come. Mom is much loved. Administrators, nurses from other areas, the director of nursing, all want to make sure she is as comfortable as she can be, and that I have what I need. I sit with my father, and we talk.

My sister arrives. I’m no longer the only one. My brother won’t arrive for another day.

I am no longer afraid. The process is slow but inexorable. The process is the same, but now I shock myself by thinking, “Hurry up! Why does this have to take so long?”

I am angry that life ends so slowly: five years of deterioration and this final, slow leave-taking. My sister returns to stay with Mom. I say goodbye again and go to my friend’s house to sleep.

As I prepare to return, the phone rings. “Hurry back — it’s time.” I meet my sister in the hall. Mom is gone. We embrace. I go to my father, who is alone with her body.

We take turns sitting with Mom’s body until my brother arrives. People come and say goodbye, and talk about the good times. I am surprised at how peaceful I feel.

We celebrate her life and ours as we (father and children) talk with each other. There is sadness, yes, and relief. She has peacefully made her transition, and our lives continue.

[tags]Aging Parents,Parents, Personal Growth,Relationships[/tags]

What were your parents lives like when you were born? Were they excited or terrified or both? How long were they together before they had any children? How did you change their lives? How did your parents get along with their parents?

Family gatherings at holiday times are sometimes uncomfortable because family members don‘t necessarily know what to say after they have said hello and caught up on the latest news. If you would like something different to talk about, asking your parents these or any other similar questions is likely to start an interesting conversation.

My parents died many years ago, and one of my treasures is a cassette tape of a family history interview I did with them on a holiday visit almost thirty years ago.

I remember feeling a little nervous about the process. As a fairly new psychotherapist, I had been asking my clients about their family histories as a way of understanding how their earliest experiences influenced their lives. I wanted some answers from my parents in order to understand myself better, and I was afraid they would feel as if I was invading their privacy.

My mother actually was reluctant to answer my questions, but only because she couldn‘t imagine why I would be interested in her early life.

I remember how shocked I felt when I commented that she had worked in the family business as a small child, and she replied, “All immigrant families worked.“

Up until that conversation, I had not realized the impact that growing up with Russian immigrant parents had on her, although I certainly knew that my grandparents came from Russia. No wonder she taught me to concentrate so hard on being productive.

My father was quite happy to answer my questions.

He shared stories about how much mischief he had gotten into as a boy and a young man. He also shared how he had managed to keep his own mother in the dark about some of his escapades. Years later I discovered that my own son had used similar techniques to keep me from knowing what he was up to.

In learning about my parents, I did learn about myself. However there was an unexpected side effect of the conversation. Somehow, by trying to understand their lives, my anger and impatience with them for not being perfect parents evaporated. I found myself able to appreciate them for who they were instead of being unhappy about who they weren‘t. Naturally, our relationship improved.

Take your tape recorder and a list of your own questions to your family gathering. Ask your relatives to tell the stories you have never heard and collect the familiar stories as well. Ask your children to talk about their favorite family experiences too. Create your own treasure, and have a wonderful holiday season.

[tags]Parents, Personal Growth, Relationships,Aging Parents[/tags]

As you grow and mature, you are probably trying to learn to balance your own needs with the needs of other people. Clarification of your decision making process helps you understand the old pressures that are influencing you now. It also encourages you to look at new options.

You can use this process to examine any problem in which you feel strong pressure to do things you don’t want to do.

As our parents get older, many of us must decide whether to take our parents into our homes or help them to choose competent assisted care. This is one of the most emotional decisions we will make. These are our parents, the people who cared for us the best they could when we couldn’t take care of ourselves.

As your parent becomes dependent on you the role switch is confusing for both of you. You may feel like a child again, just by being in the same room with your parents. Maybe they still try to control your activities. You may feel guilt that even if your father would be happier in a nursing home, you would still be abandoning him.

A crucial question at this point is: Are you considering having your mother move in to care for her or to avoid your own guilt?

You may also be equating being responsible for your parent’s physical care and providing a nice home to making her happy. Using all the health-care capabilities you can develop, you may be able to care for your parent physically. It is impossible, however, to control her happiness, no matter how hard you try. Taking care of her because you feel guilty will almost certainly produce unhappiness for both of you.

To clarify the best alternative for you and your parent, here are some good beginning questions:

• What would my parent think, feel and do if s/he were in my situation?
• What is actually happening now? How do I feel?
  How does my parent feel? How is the current situation
  working for both of us?
• What are the available options?
• What are the available resources?
  (This may take some research.)
• What do I feel I should do?
• What would I do if I could do anything I wanted
  and nobody would ever know my decision?
• Is there a creative way to achieve a compromise
  between what I want to do and what I think I should do?

Go over your answers with a friend or a trained professional to help you design a solution that you can live with. If possible keep in communication with your parents. Treating them as capable adults will encourage them to take responsibility for their own lives. Encourage them to plan for their own comfort and happiness.

Your parents may have spent a lot of years focused on you: they need to create a balance between their new dependency and their ability to live their lives without you.

After you have done all that is realistically possible, decide to stop feeling guilty about your inability to do the impossible, and to enjoy the improvements that have resulted from your creative solution.

[tags]challenge, decision making process, trained professional, responsiblilty, creative solution[/tags]