By Randi Kreiss
There comes a time in family life when the balance of responsibility begins to shift. After decades of caring for our infants, toddlers and teens, and launching our children off to careers and relationships — and if we’re lucky, a decade or two, or even three, of joyful independence — we realize that we’re slowing down a bit.
The grown children have their own years of freedom before new responsibilities as caregivers arise. Adult children begin to realize that they have aging parents. Older parents need an occasional hand up. But when to step in, exactly, and how much?
Hear me: The critical factor is for kids to offer help without diminishing their parents. When your kids start checking up on you, if they want to do no harm, they best have a light touch and a sense of humor.
Recently, one of our grown kids visited. “You’re walking really well, Mom,” he said. OK, I thought; he must have read an article about older people having mobility issues. However, I am not one. I walk just fine. And fast. And steady on my feet. I let the moment pass.
The next day he offered to arrange my pillbox. “What’s to arrange?” I said. I take two pills, and one of them is Vitamin D.
On another visit, my daughter examined the house for “fall risks.” Despite her good intentions, I was
not going to let her toss the Tabriz rug I personally carried back from Istanbul.
There were other moments, like the kids saying, “You already told me that story,” or “Why not leave your car keys in the same place every day so you won’t keep looking for them?” My son-in-law spent at least an hour going through my pantry and tossing anything with an expired date.
All of these intrusions come from a place of good intentions, but chuck that. It feels like hovering to me, and patronizing and ageist. I’ll know when I need help, and I won’t hesitate to ask. And yes, I realize this sounds slightly unreasonable.
On the other hand, I am very grateful to be living in a multigenerational family that keeps a watchful eye on us and visits often, even when we aren’t that much fun. We all know that millions of older people don’t have the blessings conferred by caring children. They may not get to go out or eat the right foods or enjoy the support of family and friends. I’m speaking from a point of privilege in that regard.
This is tricky emotional terrain on all sides, best negotiated openly and with a light touch. With that in mind, I am ready now for my kids’ next visit/inspection next month. I put my shoes in the fridge and four cans of refried beans in the bathtub.
Finding humor in advancing age isn’t always easy. Toward the end of my mother’s life, she lived with us for a few months. She had a helper who took her to the supermarket, where she enjoyed picking up a few things. One day they walked in the front door with a fresh challah bread. “Look at this bread,” my mom beamed. “It’s a beauty.”
She forgot she had bought the same bread the day before. But before I could summon the grace required in the moment, I said, “That’s the second bread you bought for tonight.” That was seven years ago, and I can still see the flustered embarrassment on my mother’s face. We might have made a joke of it, but my tone was chiding, and I regret not summoning my better angels.
Now that I am in my eighth decade, heaven help the kid who says, “You told me that already” or shows impatience when I can’t find my phone or walks around my house dimming the bright lights. The landscape of older age holds perils for me and some of my fellow boomers who may have replaced hips or knees or failing eyesight or chronic pain. Some of us can remember everything just fine. Some can remember everything, but not right away. Some can’t remember much.
Kindness lies in not pointing out the lapses, but listening to a story a second time. When we’re among our own kind (that would be other older people), we make jokes about fading memory and increasing wrinkles. When our kids point out any diminishing capacities, it feels like a rebuke.
My advice and wish: Walk more slowly, kids, when you walk alongside us; soon you will be walking in our footsteps.
