Caring for aging parents
challenges the meaning of devotion.
Daddy wanted his ashes scattered on the gymnasium floor where he and his buddies played three-on-three until they were well into their seventies,” Bob said. “On his deathbed, he made me promise I’d take care of the matter.
“Who could keep a promise like that? For one thing, the school frowned on it—in a legal way. I was foolish to make the promise. But he was so insistent, so frail and agitated, and I didn’t want to dishonor him.”
Bob paused in his storytelling. “I hope he was okay with Plan B. And I hope one day I’ll be able to live with myself for breaking that promise to my father.”
I never heard the end of that story.
“Just wrap me up in an old rug and set me out at the curb on garbage pickup day. I don’t need no fancy casket.”
“Mom, I can’t make a promise like that.”
“It’s what I want. Shouldn’t I be able to have what I want at my age?”
No. The answer is no.
“Promise me no flowers.”
“I can’t promise that other people won’t send flowers for your funeral.”
“Promise me I can die here at home. Not in the hospital.”
The adult child draws a deep breath. “I’ll try.”
“Promise me.”
God, keep us from asking impossible promises of our children when we reach that stage of life.
Like a heartbroken parent forcing a child to wear corrective leg braces, the caregiving adult child has to rise above the tears and the lump in his or her throat to make difficult decisions, decisions that may frustrate or anger the aging parent. In most cases, there is truly no other option than the one that a caring son or daughter makes.
How do we emotionally survive that? And how do we know when it’s time to stand firm and say, “Mom, Dad, I cannot do what you’re asking of me.”
•Stay connected to God. He’s our strength, stability, and fortress in time of trouble, including decision-making trouble (Jeremiah 16:19; Psalm 18:2; 31:3; 144:2).
•Pray. Commit the crisis to God’s care. He knows better than we do and better than the experts we consult. His wisdom is dependable, reliable, and infallible (James 1:5).
•Don’t take personally any resistance, depression, or anger the ill parent presents. It’s the disease or disability that speaks harsh words against us. Paranoia and depression often accompany dementia and other aging conditions that force us to make decisions about our parents’ care.
•Be sensitive to the parent’s needs and desires as much as reasonably possible. Our own convenience will not be the primary determination. It never was. Our understanding of God’s express will, sought through much prayer and surrender, makes the ultimate choice.
•Honor the parent’s wishes when appropriate, even if it’s not what we would choose. That counsel can apply many years before end of life.
If Mom or Dad wants to eat breakfast at eleven, lunch at two, and supper at four . . . on a lid from a plastic ice cream pail, is that worth fighting over? If they want to wear fluorescent socks, should that be a point of contention between us? Retaining the right to make choices can go far in bolstering an elderly parent’s sense of self-worth.
And when the unkept promise is heart-wrenching?
Joy had taken so much time off work to be by her mother’s side during her illness, that now her job was in jeopardy. She discussed her mother’s condition with the medical staff, who advised that they had no way of determining how long her mother would hold on.
“Do you think I could safely go home this afternoon and take care of a critical overseas conference call? I can be back here within three or four hours.”
“We really can’t say. She could last another two weeks. Or two months. Or two minutes.”
Joy knew she had to try. Her job was helping pay for her mother’s care. She kissed her mother good-bye and promised to be right back, her heart clenching at her mother’s plaintive cry—“Don’t go”—that followed her out the door.
The doctors later told Joy that her mother was probably gone before Joy reached the city limits. She’d been at her mother’s side constantly, but not at the moment of her death. And the burden of that truth tore at her.
How could she live with the ultimate betrayal, putting the needs of her job above the needs of her mother?
Only one way. Forgive herself.
Others tried to comfort her, telling her it may have been that her mother was waiting for a moment when she and Jesus were alone. Or that it was a no-win decision. Either way, Joy would have regretted the outcome.
Ultimately, when we fail to or can’t keep a promise to our parents, we have only one option—to forgive ourselves and trust that what we consider a gross offense is not a subject of conversation for the loved one who has crossed to a world that knows no disappointment.
It shouldn’t surprise me, Jesus,
That I’ve failed to keep some promises.
You’re the only One of us
Who managed to reach
The end of Your earth-life
With all promises kept.
It’s no wonder
I have no other place
To turn
Than You
When I’m faced with decisions
That rattle me
And hold the potential
To disappoint my parents.
Cover me, Lord.
Cover me.