THE SANDWICH GENERATION: Caring for Kids and Your Parents When my elderly neighbor Joe was widowed, I did what most neighbors would do. I didnt know Joe or his wife well, but I knew Joe was completely deaf and that his wife had just died. He was lonely. I started to visit, thinking I could help him if he needed groceries or something. What began as a neighborly visit, continued into a kind of adoption of Joe, by myself and my two sons, ages six and eight. Watching out for elders had always come naturally for me. I grew up close to my grandparents, and during my teenage years, my paternal grandmother lived with us. We even built a different house to accommodate her stay. So, for five years, the kids and I were Joes family. He had a son across the country and scattered grandchildren. I was his in-town lifeline. I made phone calls to his son, so Joe could talk. I would write down the answers for Joe to read, and then hed talk again. It was a three-way conversation, but he looked forward to each Sunday call. My kids and I rescued his old bottle-brush Christmas tree from his attic and decorated it each Christmas. We had pizza parties at his house, and carried holiday feasts over to him, as he was uncomfortable in groups and wouldnt come over to our house for holiday meals. I took Joe to Telephone Pioneers of America meetings (I was his honey), and the kids and I drove him, on a regular basis, 75 miles to visit his older sister. I dragged Joe up off the floor after many falls and rode the ambulance with him to the emergency room each time he got hurt. The last fall broke his hip, and he died within a couple of months. Shortly thereafter, my aunt and uncle from Virginia to North Dakota moved to be with us, their only family. Then my parents and in-laws began having health troubles. In all, I cared for seven elders over the span of two decades. During that time, I was raising my kids, one of whom has multiple health problems. To the best of my knowledge, there was never a word, at the time, to describe what I was doing. I was just following my instincts and elders were falling like dominoes into my care. Meanwhile, I was running from doctor to doctor to get my sons health problems diagnosed and treated, while fighting with school officials over why this bright kid was missing so much school. During the last years of my elder caregiving, while my mother-in-law and my parents were still alive, and my son was still having major health issues, and I was working full time, I was reading about a term sandwich generation. I thought, How clever. Still, it didnt occur to me that I was one of them. I was just a caregiver. Maybe I didnt have the time, or the will, to evaluate my own situation. That is the case with many caregivers. In fact, when I do presentations to groups of caregivers and professionals now, one of my subjects is Caring for the Caregiver, and I always stress self-identification. Caregiving is a job. When you have more than one generation to care for, its an even bigger job. Yes, sandwich generation is a very apt term. I was just an early practitioner and a slow learner when it came to recognizing what I was actually handling. Today, I still have to remind myself that I continue to be a caregiver. My son is in his twenties, but he still has health issues, though we have hope that through a terrific nutritional program, plus his medications, he will eventually be a self-supporting man who can contribute his remarkable gifts as a screen writer, lyricist and musician to the world. For now, however, I am still a caregiver, though I am no longer sandwiched between generations. Balancing the Needs of Your Parents and Your Children Page 2: The Sandwich Generation: Caring for Kids and Your Parents The challenges of being a member of the sandwich generation are many, but here are the ones I found (and continue to find as I listen to my readers and speak to groups) most common. My son was barely coming out of a severe asthma attack, and resting in his room, when my mothers personal alarm went off and the dispatcher called to have me go to her apartment to check on her. Can I leave Adam? Will he be okay? Someone has to check on Mom. Shes likely lying on the floor again. This particular time, Adams older brother was home and Adam was better, so I quickly ran to Moms apartment. Yes she was on the floor. I had to get the firefighters to help, but we got her up and she was amazingly unhurt, so I got her to bed and hurried back home. **** TO BE CONTINUED - stay tuned for the rest of this article from Agingcare
Posted on: Wed, 29 Oct 2014 16:53:41 +0000