When Children Become Parents of Their Parents

Becoming the parents of your own parents is a sometimes stretching season in life. Often, it happens gradually and you find yourself first counseling, then initiating difficult topics of conversation, and finally moving to a more responsible, active role in their lives.

I’m certainly not a professional in this field, but I’m an experienced parent of a parent. As such, I have stories to tell and feelings to share. Maybe it will help your own experience as a parent’s parent have fewer bumps and more positives than my own did.

I became a parent to my father. In addition to materials that I read, counsel I sought, and additional family members that bore much more of the burden than I, my father was actively engaged in teaching me how to parent him. He was wise and wonderful, carefully and firmly telling me where my limits ended and his liberties continued.

Of course, he was willing to hear me out and often conceded that I was right about this and that change, but where he could be in charge, he firmly wanted to be. As we worked together for some eight years as his health deteriorated, I learned much about the deep, meaningful relationships children can develop as they parent their parents. I also learned important concepts about how to approach such a stewardship.


Honor Their Retained Skills
Being old doesn’t mean being dumb. At first, this was very difficult for me to realize. My father’s body was disintegrating and so it was easy for me to forget that his mind was truly well, active, and astute.

Often he would remind me that he could think for himself, make choices with educated viewpoints, and that he wanted to do so whenever possible.


Make All Necessary Adjustment with Haste and Completeness
My father had been an active man, working physically hard all his life. Being confined behind a wheelchair to walk and flipping it around to rest was a humbling experience for him and a difficult one for me to watch. However, when the wheelchair came into his life, he also encouraged that accommodations be made to keep him as independent as possible. This perspective helped me to get to work, too, in his behalf.

Thus the wheelchair was accompanied by a bathtub stool so he could continue to bathe himself in private. He designed and paid for a wooden ramp to be constructed over one side of his exterior stairs so he could get out of the house and onto his garden “motorcycle” without aid.

Of course, the motorcycle was really a four-wheeler vehicle that allowed him to be mobile on his small farm. He could check that his grandsons were really watering the South garden sufficiently, feeding the chickens diligently, and pulling ALL the weeds from his strawberry patch.


Maintain Their Interest in Their Passions
My father loved computers, scanners, and all things glass. This meant that as his diminishing capacities forced him to withdraw from teaching at a local university, it was essential that he be set up with a home office that suited his continued interest in civil engineering, family history, and creative glass blowing.

Sometimes it was hard for me to invest financially in his future, but he needed day-to-day stimulation and thoroughly enjoyed the latest technological gizmo. Supporting him in these acquisitions kept him ripe for conversations with his grandchildren about the internet, computer programs, and pocket planners. In addition, it allowed him to finish his personal military history complete with scanned photos and a professional layout.

When his health deteriorated to the point that he couldn’t easily leave the house, he asked me to make a video of the strawberry patch so he could see how his experiment had gone through the overly cold winter. He had made arrangements for half of the patch to be covered with a new kind of insulated blanket. Were those plants developing faster and blooming sooner? The camcorder video kept him abreast of farm activities he could no longer supervise personally.


Increase Audio and Visual Stimulation
One important lesson I learned about helping the elderly was that visual stimulation and audio experiences meant for a better life, more interesting conversation, and increased hope. On those days when I managed to bring a gift of interest, propose a creative outing, or just had a current news item to share, I found that my father responded in kind. He became more animated, more interested, and more creative.

He, of course, needed to offer something in return. This meant that I would try to have questions, need an opinion, or have a story to tell that required his interpretation or comment. In other words, the elderly need to be needed, want to be interesting, and have much perspective to add to others’ limited view. How you approach their continued education helps make these golden years full of pleasant surprises!


Visit, Visit, Visit
My father lived in an area of the country and around people that had been settled for a long time. When he came upon another older stranger, he would inquire after their name, their birthplace, and their life’s wanderings. Soon he had found a point of connection. Often it was a comment like, “Well, then do you know …?” or “Well, then you must have lived there during …. historical event?” or “Well, I believe that we are related. Sounds like it is just ___ generations back.” And then off he would go making this stranger his friend.

I believe that this opportunity to share his world with all comers, his friendliness, and his desire for sharing were a rare talent he had. As his caretaker, I helped that along by taking him to weddings, reunions, graduations, and other important celebrations for his extended family, friends, and associates. I also learned that patiently waiting while he visited was a grand gift for him. In other words, I had to make part of my life his pacing of life.


Let Them Contribute
Older people are more “alive” as long as they can give something of themselves. Encourage older people to give and give again, within the limits of their dwindling capacities. In my father’s instance, he loved to give freely of his produce and so he always wanted us to help him plant a large vegetable garden. When friends and family came during the later summer months, he then had gifts to give. He wanted this garden planted long after he could tend it himself, and we found a way to do it for him.

Other older people I have know, especially women, give flowers from their gardens, tended and maintained with the aid of grandchildren or nearby neighbor children, as needed.


Set Parameters on Your Availability and Then Keep Your Commitments
Being a parent to your parents is difficult. It can be emotionally and physically exhausting, especially if you are the only child close enough or willing enough to take the responsibility. In my case, there was a nearby son to take care of the farm animals, a sister and her family that lived in my father’s home, and close by siblings that came frequently to brighten the long days. My stewardship settled into handling finances, medical decisions, running errands with my father, and helping him with computer and internet needs.

We chose Tuesday as my regular day to visit, go through his to do list and make purchases as he desired, and eat out at a fast food restaurant of his choice. Oh, he loved hamburgers and fries to the end. The joys of this weekly stewardship were considerable and well worth the effort for me. Why?

Well, I made new memories with my dad as I took care of his grooming, drove him wherever he desired once he couldn’t drive any more, and helped him learn more about his computer. These hours together are all very precious to me now that he is gone. Yes, it took a lot of energy, but was a prized time of giving back as I had been given. In the reversal of roles, it wasn’t exactly an even trade, but I came away from the experience with few disappointments and plenty of pleasant thoughts about that season of being his caretaker.

If this role becomes yours, I encourage you to embrace it, discovering along the way the treasures deep in the soul of the parent you now parent.

©2010 Marie Calder Ricks/www.houseoforder.com