Making Our Parents Safer and
Part of the Twenty-First Century
Despite having paid for my law school education and having frequently expressed confidence in me, my parents excluded me when it came to drafting their wills and making their legal and estate decisions. Now that my parents were finally including me in these decisions and discussions, I needed to understand and perhaps offer my own input to what already existed. Maybe they would wish to alter some things that would be more relevant to the octogenarians they’d become and the world they found themselves in.
Hence, my first goal in reviewing their paperwork was to offer my suggestions. My other goal was to ensure that going forward we could all rely on my parents’ documents, including with regard to their wishes should another or more serious illness impact one of them. Bottom line: while they were on my watch, I wanted my parents to be and feel as safe as they could legally, emotionally, spiritually, medically, and financially.
Given my legal background, I knew I’d feel more at ease after I took the time to fully examine their paperwork to see whether it was all in good order. I was coming to appreciate that as I became more serene and secure about each piece of the POP puzzle, my parents also became more at ease.
When I began the process, I had limited information. I knew things in the abstract, such as: my Dad held various rights and responsibilities from his music businesses that I’d need to learn about. I recalled hearing years before that they’d made a few small investments aside from their home, and I’d need to know if those were still active and what was involved. I remembered that in his early eighties Dad had proudly announced obtaining long-term care insurance for himself and Mom. “With this plan, you won’t be burdened because our care will be assured.” It was very important to my parents, as to many of their peers, not have to rely financially on their children, nor to obligate us in that way. I knew I’d need to check the details of their plan’s premiums, benefits, waiting periods, and terms to see if his dream fit the insurance world’s reality.
One day while I was hunting down information, I became so upset that I thought I might scream. It wasn’t really that I wanted to scream—not at my parents, nor even at life. Rather, the tension I’d internalized burned in the muscles of my upper arms and I felt emotionally overwhelmed and claustrophobic in this storage cubicle, which was actually my mother’s closet. A panicky feeling of not knowing what to do next, wanting to escape and feeling rooted in place, overcame me. I even heard myself silently revving up a host of unwanted emotions: “Ya know, Jane. Given your parents’ pace, you might be here undoing and redoing rubber bands and forsaken files for months.”
Some of the pressure came from the fact that these were not my therapy patients, with whom I could be the cool, competent professional. The stress I felt to do this POP task perfectly was so intense because it was my own Mom and Dad and because I knew I should be the calm and rational one, the parent, even in the midst of chaos.
And those endless boxes! What I found as I got inside Mom’s boxes were decades and decades of memorabilia as well as financial, legal, and other extraordinarily detailed records. That woman, God love her, had saved not only every bank statement since their marriage but every letter I’d ever written her. She’d even saved the envelopes bearing their five-cent stamps and the new zip codes.
Jack made his own contribution to the collection of boxes I needed to examine. In addition to his stamp collection and random small coins he’d gathered, most of Dad’s things consisted of the remnants of a background music library business he’d developed in his sixties. At that time, writing lyrics became less lucrative for a man his age, but he wanted to keep his hand in music and this business provided him a means. It also generated voluminous contracts, correspondence, tapes, CDs, and even vintage vinyl in foreign languages—Spanish, Bulgarian, and Swedish.
When I finally got inside the boxes that contained their personal legal papers, I was startled to learn that my parents’ entire financial plan was based upon the man owning and controlling everything. Although Lillian had typed each piece of Dad’s correspondence and every contract to precise perfection on an old Smith Corona typewriter—when a single error might require her retyping an entire page—Mom had no money. She had no credit, owned nothing and, despite having worked alongside Jack in all his business ventures, was basically not a “person” from a business perspective.
How could my fair-minded father have structured their assets that way? How could Mom or their lawyer have allowed it? The man I knew never denied Lillian’s contribution to his life or business. Quite the contrary. He also wouldn’t have set up their affairs with so little regard for Mom’s well-being. In spite of my dismay, I decided our developing relationship would benefit if I responded more neutrally to things I was finding out. I had taught myself and then my patients to underreact rather than overreact at times with our younger family members. Certainly, I could learn to do that with these oldsters as well.
Helping my folks move into the twenty-first century was also part of my POP challenge, and it seemed likely I’d be more “persuasive” in getting them on board with POP if I underreacted more often. I could underreact by assuming anything I found that reflected Dad’s sole ownership was set up in an old-school way by a man who took pride in providing for his wife. I could underreact when I reminded myself that Jack had acted out of a traditional point of view. There wasn’t anything mean-spirited in his intentions. As I underreacted more, tempering my expression of emotions, I saw myself becoming more successful in obtaining their consent to the changes that were needed.
Helping myself move into the POParent I wished to become was not quite so easy. On the previous day, as I’d stood amid their things, I’d felt like an alien suspended above Mom’s closet, looking down on this scene and asking myself: “What are you doing here, Jane, inside this closet in this bedroom sorting through years of these people’s papers, photos, stamp collections, shoe boxes, music, and books?” Could that bizarre “dislocation” have come from a desire to avoid my feelings? My parents were not “these people.” They were the two people I’d known the longest, the ones who’d conceived me, raised me as best they could, and shepherded me through my early life. But thinking about them as “these people” allowed me to distance myself from them and my feelings, feelings I sought to protect myself from having.
Gazing over the boxes, I identified those unwanted thoughts and emotions: exhaustion, sadness, nostalgia, and even anticipatory grief about their deaths. In that moment, I felt as if parenting my parents was part of an inevitable march toward their leaving me. Leaving me. Even Mom’s not being recognizable on that first December night could be seen as part of my loss: the Mom I’d known seemed to be departing from my life.
My mind next jumped further into the scary future, to when I would be the old woman. What would my life accumulations look like to those sorting and reviewing my things? And who would be there to do this for me then?
“Whoa!” I told myself, noting I was not in the present. That type of thinking stripped away my positive energy and focus and therefore was actually dangerous behavior. I breathed a few times, deeply in and out. Then I tried another technique that I taught in my office: helpful self-talk. “Hey, you’re not an old woman. Your parents are not dying. You’re not operating in real time. Come on back.” Breathing deeply into these present-centered cues helped ground me to where I was standing in the here and now, needing to function.
It was helpful to recognize my own mental patterns of succumbing to emotions of loss and abandonment, obsessively asking unanswerable questions. When I got lost in them, I was unable to mindfully attend to either my tasks or my parents. Once I’d uncovered these sometimes hard-to-identify patterns, I could intervene to bring me back to the present, since being “absent” is never a good formula for POParenting—or any other kind of parenting.
I was buoyed having witnessed the power that I had to fight my destructive and enervating thoughts. That evening, I continued to work on finding the desired energy and confidence needed to be the POParent I desired to become. I used more helpful “self-talk,” as we psychotherapists call this skill, to show me how to undermine my distracted thinking.
Conversing inwardly again, I reminded myself: “You have what it takes to be the grown-up here. Surely you can tolerate Dad’s having not made Mom a financial equal, and you can live with her annoying rubber band obsession. You can be the calm one and give your parents a sense of well-being. Reviewing legal and financial issues, sorting out health matters, and listening to people’s spiritual concerns—these are all things you’re particularly qualified to do. You’ve performed similar tasks successfully countless times, and now it’s time to do it for your own loved ones. Calm down, Jane, you know what you’re doing. You’re fine.”
These thoughts did ground me, and as I got more centered, I realized that not only had I been obsessively repeating unanswerable queries but also that I’d been asking all the wrong questions. I’d been dwelling on the “why me” questions and the “am I adequate” fears. These only convinced me to feel like a victim and not up for the job—things that weren’t so. I was not a victim here: quite the opposite! I had fully chosen to help Lillian and Jack. Asking myself the wrong questions, like “am I enough?” and “why me?” wasn’t helpful to anyone.
In contrast, posing the “right questions” would help me create much-needed empowering and solution-oriented responses. Those more constructive self-inquiries would involve asking myself questions about HOW to proceed. “How can I sort through what I need from these boxes and still return to L.A. fairly soon?” “How can I find someone to help me with this?” “How could I make this more fun? Would turning on some music help us all have a better time?” “Would it work better to look for things myself and not bother Mom and Dad?”
Working as a therapist, I’d consistently found asking “how” questions to be a great way to generate action-oriented thoughts. By interrupting the “why me” questions and inserting the far more useful “how” questions, I was not only relieved of unhelpful mental meanderings but also able to focus on getting specific results. By asking myself “how” I could best complete the daunting POP tasks before me, I was actively commanding my mind to find good solutions. It was actually easier to get my job done.
After working with myself on these reorientations of my thinking that day and later at the hotel, a more mature and confident version of me arrived at my parents’ door the following day, a “wiser POParent.” I was able to keep my attention mindfully poised on each step of what I was doing. Instead of judging my parents for having so much stuff or myself for not being a more patient POParent, I quieted those voices and just did my job. Very patiently I examined the next box in front of me, rather than losing myself in the overwhelming responsibility of “endless” boxes and work.
During the days that followed, I found more ways to motivate myself to clear out my stale, unwanted thoughts. I could clear my head quickly by going outside to take a brief and conscious walk as a personal time-out. Literally putting myself into a different space and moving my body offered a simple, nontoxic solution. Something else I tried in order to put me into another time and space was inviting my mind to clear itself of the thought of their apartment as it was today with its endless boxes, anxious parents, and disarray. In its place I brought in another scene from years ago, a specific and happy memory of what it had been like to live in Manhattan with my parents when I’d been young. I saw that I had many happy memories to choose from, and after allowing myself some time to savor a good memory, I could return to my tasks in their apartment refreshed and surprisingly efficient.
Unfortunately, even after I’d found the time to review my parents’ paperwork and offered them some suggestions that we incorporated, I was not peaceful. I suffered from a condition I would see so often among POParents that I even gave it a name: “Insufficient Information Syndrome,” or IIS. Although no one in business or law would advise making important decisions without hard data, there was no hard data on many crucial things. Instead I suffered from IIS, as I had no idea, of course, how long my parents would live or how their needs might expand. How long would any funds my parents had set aside for their late-in-life care last? How fast and often would the escalating cost of everything geriatric rise?
I closed my eyes, took a breath, and asked myself the question I’d often heard Oprah ask others. “What do you know for sure?” I did know this: I was “in” for the long haul. I had whatever resources I could locate, and it was my responsibility to figure out how to use those for my parents’ well-being. I knew for sure that I’d keep them safe as best I could. I’d just have to find a way to live with my IIS and make the best decisions I could with whatever data I possessed.
These early POP days were a wealth of training opportunities for me, demonstrating clearly that what I’d been telling others was right for me, too. I saw that when I returned on future visits, I’d need to come prepared—calm, purposeful, and focused—since showing up like that allowed my parents to be clearer and even better able to help. I was appreciating that I could only accomplish a limited number of tasks during any one visit. If I tried to do too much, tempers would flare and the quality of our time together would suffer. People my parents’ age moved and thought at a slower pace, and it was I, not they, who would need to do the adjusting.
It became clear that I would benefit from further practicing “emotional neutrality,” underreacting, employing positive self-talk and that I could use some additional work on my patience. I’d found it hard to keep serene, and I didn’t like how little emotional stamina I’d had recently. I would need to get help from my friends and family, the people who ordinarily let me vent, to talk through things without censoring. Hopefully doing all that would allow me to reemerge stronger.
Eventually we redid the paperwork, where needed. The Wolfs were now logging into the twenty-first century. Mom became a full partner in the family funds and developed a credit status at age eighty-five. I gained access to their accounts and, should they become unable, to making their medical decisions. I assured my parents that all their new documents were properly executed and stored and we all breathed another sigh of relief. This POP stage had been successfully completed.
Finally able to look up from the boxes, I gazed toward the ceiling in their bedroom and saw anew the state of their apartment. My Mom had refused permission for workers to come in to repaint and, over time, the discolored Sheetrock on the ceiling had become visible. That would have to wait for another visit.
You too will want to find, read, consider, and then discuss with family members what your parents have set in place, legally, financially and beyond. Depending on their circumstances, you may wish to include your parents in that process. Thereafter, you’ll want to examine any reasonable alternatives to see if there are more current, less expensive, or other better ways to modify your parents’ existing situations. You will want to do this sooner rather than later, since making and executing these decisions often takes time, an unknown here, and your parents may have a limited window to possess the mental competency necessary to change their documents.[1]
First, you’ll need to find out all about your parents’ finances. What are their assets and where are they located? Just because your father says he has an interest in an oil well in Texas or one of those certificates of ownership in Jack Daniels’ land doesn’t mean its value is what he’s thinking. Do you know if your parents’ assets are insured? If so, by what company and under what conditions? That information may also help you evaluate its worth. What are your parents’ premiums, deductibles, and benefits for all their insurance? Do your parents have debt or mortgage obligations? Do they have a reverse mortgage, and is that working for them? Who are they paying, for what, and from what source? We all hear about older citizens getting ripped off. Has that happened to your parents? Are their bills being paid on time? How do you know that? Do they have debt, and if so, how is it being managed? Is it at a good rate? You will need to see their paperwork for yourself and attend to what is necessary.
Your parents may have become more forgetful, gotten ill, or just had trouble keeping track of their mail and so much more. As a result of their forgetfulness, for example, they may not be paying money they owe to some federal agency or their nondeductible portion of a hospital bill. If so, you’ll need to understand which of your parents’ bills must be paid immediately and what may be renegotiated by you later. You will want to ensure that no bills get lost lying around at your parents’ home somewhere. Your aging parents’ priorities may sometimes surprise you: to them, being late for dinner may be unthinkable but being late on a car insurance premium may be “no big deal.”
If you can’t get reliable answers from your parents about their existing monthly payments, you’ll want to create a theoretical list of their likely obligations. For example, if your parents own their home, they may owe on a mortgage or two, an equity line, or a reverse mortgage. You will then need to go find such documents and seek out specific answers. If your parents are still driving, they may owe payments on an auto lease or a loan. A car registration or a smog check may be coming due soon. Once you’ve gotten a handle on their bills, it would be helpful to put reminder cues in place on a central calendar you create for recurring events so that whoever starts to pay their bills can do so in a timely manner.
If your review of their current situation suggests your folks are unable to continue managing their finances without ongoing help, you may need to take over some or all of it. You also may wish to consult an attorney and see about filing a petition in court seeking a conservatorship of their money or whatever their state requires for you to manage their finances, especially if you’re concerned about your parents’ signing checks or making poor financial choices. A power of attorney may be sufficient but you will want to have certainty to best protect yourself, your parents, and their estate.
Having “the Conversation” with your parents about your taking on more control of their money or other aspects of their life usually has many levels of complexity to it. Again, harkening back to parenting children, you have a moral obligation, should you choose to accept it, to protect your parents financially. That may mean that your being cosignees on their bank accounts is necessary at this time of your POPcycle. You will also want to protect them from scams, missed payments, or other unattractive consequences. Under more unfortunate circumstances, you may even need to protect your parents from a sibling who’s living under their roof and “conning” them out of their Social Security moneys.
After having reviewed your parents’ obligations, resources, and foreseeable needs, perhaps you will suggest that they obtain a personal loan or a reverse mortgage on their home. A low interest rate may present an attractive solution to finding the funds you need to hire caregiving assistance. Perhaps you’ll advise your parents to make some short-term investments to extend the life of their savings. You will want to keep current regarding taxes, Social Security, and Medicare. There are many resources available to help you including, of course, the POP website, http://www.ParentingOurParents.org .
It’s wise to spend some funds in the beginning of your POPcycle to have experienced professionals guide you and your family—evaluating what’s in place, legally and financially, and deciding what might be better. Perhaps someone on your TEAM POP already has these skills, but if not, find qualified people licensed in the state where your parents are planning to live out their days. There may even be legal or financial professionals providing free advice for the indigent elderly in their state; your parents may or may not qualify for these services. In making financially prudent choices, it’s often wise to expend some money now to ensure future savings will exist and to avoid stressful worrying. Even if you and/or your parents have concerns about the expense, you may find it useful and comforting to consult with seasoned professionals.
Over the course of your POPcycle, you will likely find yourself hiring, firing, and supervising lawyers, doctors, accountants, geriatric care managers (GCMs), and others. They may have far more education and certainly will have far more experience in their areas of expertise than you do. Supervision of these professionals in the form of oversight and follow-up is part of POParenting and it is the job of the whole TEAM POP. The best-qualified or most local TEAM POP member is often the one to be assigned such overseeing. I urge you as POParents to not become intimidated by professionals who are helping your family. Speak up! Ask a lot of questions! Better safe asking too many questions than sorry asking too few. It’s your job to ensure that your parents are getting the best service possible, so don’t let your old fearfulness stand in the way of good POParenting.
Knowing that you’ve become involved, that their paperwork has been updated, that they’re not alone dealing with their hospital bills or balancing their bank books will relieve your loved ones’ stress. That can literally extend the number and the quality of your parents’ days and nights on the planet.
It’s most prudent to discuss these matters with estate or other qualified lawyers and financial advisors in your parents’ home state as these standards vary and are determined by state law.