These are the words of Sandra Tsing Loh author of Mother on Fire, in an article at the Atlantic where she discusses elder issues and caring for her aging father:
Recently, a colleague at my radio station asked me, in the most cursory way, as we were waiting for the coffee to finish brewing, how I was. To my surprise, in a motion as automatic as the reflex of a mussel being poked, my body bent double and I heard myself screaming:
“I WAAAAAAAANT MY FATHERRRRRR TO DIEEEEE!!!”
Startled, and subtly stepping back to put a bit more distance between us, my co-worker asked what I meant.
“What I mean, Rob, is that even if, while howling like a banshee, I tore my 91-year-old father limb from limb with my own hands in the town square, I believe no jury of my peers would convict me. Indeed, if they knew all the facts, I believe any group of sensible, sane individuals would actually roll up their shirtsleeves and pitch in.”
This “devoted” author/author goes on in detail about the psychological dynamics with her father:
Yes, my history with this man has been checkered: in my childhood, he had been cruelly cheap (no Christmas, no heat); in my teens, he had been unforgivably mean to my mother; in my 20s, I rebelled and fled; in my 30s, I softened and we became wry friends—why not, he couldn’t harm me now; in my 40s, sensing that these were the last days of a fading elder, the memories of whom I would reflect on with increasing nostalgia, the door opened for real affection, even a kind of gratitude. After all, I had benefited professionally from using him as fodder for my writing (as he had benefited financially for years by forging my signature so I ended up paying his taxes—ah, the great circle of life).
Given the way that this author writes and feels about her dad, I would say that she gave as good as she got. She calls the article “Daddy Issues” and with good reason, like so many other women her age and older, she probably had issues with men that went far beyond the way that her father actually treated her and had to do just as much with a sense of entitlement and self-indulgence as it did with anything else. The fact that she wrote an article about an affair she had and her subsequent divorce is a tip-off as are her words: “I am a 47-year-old woman whose commitment to monogamy, at the very end, came unglued. This turn of events was a surprise. I don’t generally even enjoy men; …”
It’s too bad that this author feels so little loyalty towards her dad (or husband for that matter), especially now that he is old and sick. She better hope that when she gets older, her own children or family have more compassion and empathy than she seems capable of.
I realize that it is hard at times to care for elderly parents but a more compassionate approach would be welcome. Did you or do you care for aging parents? Do you cope in a more mature way?
While it is true that during a moment of weakness while caring for an elderly parent, we may in fact wish for a peaceful end it is not necessary for us to glorify our weakness in a book that pretty much makes wishing ones death normal. Our society lacks at the very least the appropriate affect towards the elderly and children alike. There was a time that our parents knew that when the time came they would be cared for lovingly by their children and now they struggle with the thought of becoming dependent and a burden. My grandmother worse fear was that she be left to die in a nursing home or worse yet to die alone at home. We made sure she had the best we could provide at home with family.It was not easy to coordinate the care, but it was well worth the price to share in her life and death and the experience and peace of mind it left in our hearts knowing we did our best. She died peacefully knowing the full depth of our love as she so willing gave to us in our many hours of need before and after she became incapacated. How selfish we have become as a society to just throw away those who gave so much or worse yet to make money off the weak minded efforts we end up glorifying.
Very well put. Tsing Loh should have that taped to her forehead.
One anecdote : In India, people care for their elderly parents and even their elderly in-laws. It is just the culture.
Among my relatives, there was an example of a mother-in-law that lived so long, until age 98, that her daughter-in-law taking care of her was herself 75.
Yep, a 75-year-old woman was still the caregiver, rather than a recipient.
She didn’t complain, though, and whatever resentment she may have had along the lines of ‘this went on 20 years longer than I expected’, was kept to herself.
My maternal grandfather lived to the age of 96. By age 94, he’d outlived two wives. He was unable to completely care for himself any more so he moved in with his kids in turn. The problem was that those “kids” ranged in age from the late 60s through the late 70s and many of them had health issues of their own.
He was born in 1908 and worked as a sharecropper raising 5 kids through the Great Depression. He retired at age 65 and not long afterwards, his wife (my grandmother) died. He remarried several years later. This was an active man. The saddest thing was to see this man feel a burden to his children. At his funeral, they listed 5 children and the total of grandchildren, great grandchildren and great great grandchildren totaled 96. The family has scattered, though, and he was unwilling to move from the area.
Interesting. Old man is dying, yet it’s all about Sandra. Now I can understand and forgive someone wishing that “he hurry up and die,” and maybe even talking about it with a friend. But Sandra has made it into a paid article, announcing it to the world. That does not speak well of her character.
My mom (an RN) did care for her mother when she was dying of colon cancer. In our house in the early 1970s. I heard not one word of complaint. Even though she had to learn to cook and sew at an early age (1930s) because my grandmother wasn’t all that good at either.
We debated altering the house to be able to care for either of our mothers if needed (both fathers are dead). My mom ended up living with my youngest brother, who has basically stated she will die in his care as family doesn’t put each other into kennels…
Two of my brothers live with my mother (Parkinson’s) so that she can stay at home as long as possible. They are my heroes, and I’m sure there are many days when they’re overwhelmed by it all. She’ll probably die of something other than Parkinson’s itself (like choking on food), and maybe they could give her a few extra months if they put her in a home, but then again maybe not since she’d probably just be overdrugged in a bed all day. They are voluntarily suppressing their career rises because they can’t go away for extended periods of time, and she’s just as difficult with them now, as she was before her mobility was limited. I know that even if I were close enough to help, I don’t have the patience to put up with her for long periods of time, and I have a very large family to raise (my brothers’ daughters live with their mothers). “Selfish” is an easy word to toss out there, but “unselfish” is mindnumbingly difficult. (In other words, “character building” just…sucks… when you’re going through it)
Publishing and making money from her rationalizations for these feelings is just cheesy and juvenile, though. It’s a good cautionary tale though: since SS and Medicare are going broke, old people will once again need to rely on their children in their declining years. So raise ‘em right! It occurs to me that we wouldn’t have many OWS types if parents thought they’d be relying on their own kids instead of mine for retirement.
Cheesy and juvenile pretty much sums up everything I ever read by Sandra Tsing Loh. It’s all about her.
Does daughter secretly wish her father read her frustrated writings (or find out through other sources)?
If no, can she prevent it?
I took care of my mother (stroke/arthritis) until I couldn’t physically do it any more. She’s at a nursing home where they are caring for her in a way that my unskilled self cannot. I now have my elderly father. He can be a bit maddening, but I love him dearly and so far his health is good.
I’ve been through this discussion with friends, and had several express the attitudes that Dr. Helen and some of the commenters have about this sort of situation. All I can say in response is that if you have siblings and money, it makes things a whole lot easier; if you’re an only child and not that well-off, then things get much harder.
I’m an only child, and so is my wife. Between us, when we got married, we had 3 elderly parents (my father died in a drunk driving accident when I was 3). My father-in-law was in declining health when we got married 13 years ago, and still smoked up a storm and drank 2-3 cases of beer per week, right up until his health got so bad he had to go to the nursing home. I threw my back out and missed work trying to lift him off of the floor after he’d fallen once. He lasted about a month at the nursing home, and wasn’t missed that much by his wife or daughter (he’d grown into something of an elderly spoiled child, and back in the day my wife was pretty sure he’d regularly stepped out on her mother).
A few years ago, my mother started to decline in health more steeply. She’d been overweight all of her life, and until the end she ate in commensurate fashion. When she finally reduced the amount of food she ate, she tried to survive on strawberry shakes and candy bars. She finally entered the same nursing home as Joe, and passed away after a year there. We’d had our ups and downs, but our relationship had healed some starting when I got married. My mother adored my wife, to the point that everyone in the family joked (behind her back) that if my wife and I ever got divorced my mom would side with Debbie rather than me. Anyway, her last year in the nursing home (because of circumstances and the way the tax code is written) cost us about $100,000. I miss her, but I’m also glad she finally died.
And my mother-in-law is still in that same nursing home. She’s 87, in reasonably good health, but can’t walk and is losing interest in doing jigsaw puzzles, which was one of her main sources of entertainment. She doesn’t like many of the other residents of the home (“They’re all old people!”) and has for some time now been pretty depressed. When she was first in the home she had fantasies of marrying one of the attendants, and leaving to live with him (her husband was recently dead, so every attendant who was Hispanic and looked vaguely like Joe reminded her of him) but more recently, when visitors appear, she looks at them brightly and says “I want to die!” Given that she’s in the nursing home and that we arranged the finances better in her case, the state pays for her to be in the home, and the principal burden is that my wife has to visit her weekly, and the drive is a bit long. I know that’s not much, and so the situation isn’t as bad as the other two, but trust me, the emotional strain of seeing your parent like this, week in and week out for years is pretty heavy.
I had a friend years ago who had an elderly father, and lots of siblings, but all of the siblings had moved out of town. We’re talking the family had originally lived in Southern California, and one of her brothers had moved to upstate New York. She wound up being saddled with the same thing; she had to take care of her father in his old age, until he finally passed away. So I don’t know whether I would have publicly expressed myself the way Sandra did in the article you’ve excerpted. She’s a rather outgoing, wear-it-on-your-sleeve sort of personality. I might not have expressed the emotion, but I certainly can commiserate, and understand it. Parents dying is a tough thing; when it takes months or years, and you have to care for them while they’re doing it, it can be seriously disruptive to the rest of your life, and emotionally taxing like almost nothing else.
I wonder if Mr Nicolas has considered how ‘seriously disrupting’ and ‘emotionally taxing’ it was to give birth to him, change his diapers for several years, and generally looking out for his welfare until he was capable of doing so for himself. I bet she took care of him for a longer time while he was growing up than he will need to care for her while she is dying. What goes around comes around; or at least it should.
You’re right but then again you’re wrong. My mother gave birth to me, yes, and raised me (with the help of a nanny when I was very young. My father died early (I think I mentioned this in my first comment) so starting with 3rd grade I was sent to a boarding school for five years. I’m not exactly blaming her, but it wasn’t the best decision she ever made. So yeah, it was trouble raising me, and yeah, I know it’s work to do that sort of thing; that wasn’t what I was speaking of exactly. Everyone seems to act as if this is a cut-and-dried issue: when your parents get old and need to be cared for, you drop everything and spend as long as it takes, as much as it takes, without any regard for cost financial or emotional, to care for them, because they raised you. That’s the theory, and on occasion it’s the way it works.
I just get annoyed when someone who has other means of supporting their parents (siblings, money, etc.) tell the rest of us that it’s not OK to resent being asked to give up a decade or two of your life, and undergo the emotional stress involved in watching your parent deteriorate slowly, without dying. Every relationship between a parent and a son is different. In a way, I resented my mother for dying so slowly; at different times I resent my father, in completely different ways, for getting drunk and then trying to drive home after a poker game.
I guess another way to put my criticism of those who are critical of Sandra and her way of dealing with her father is to say this: You don’t know her, you don’t know her father, you don’t know that much about their relationship. It’s best not to judge.
What? Since 1972, having a child is a “choice.” Mom “chose” to give birth, change diapers, yadda yadda because this is how she wanted to spend her life. If she didn’t want to do those things, she should have had an abortion.
She is caring for a grifter who happens to be her father. I don’t know that warmth and cuddliness is called for in the first place.
But. and. however. Honor your father and mother so your days will be long upon the earth- I don’t know that it’s b/c elders have pull with the Grim Reaper, or b/c children model what they see.
Should Ms. Loh end up in the hospital, I don’t know that she has a devoted other person to spend the night with her, holding her hand when 3am rolls around, and she panics in an unfamiliar, and probably pretty uncomfortable- cold, with needle sticks at 5 am- sort of place. And then, should she develop cancer- will she have a child feeding her gruel, or will someone grow impatient?
And, then, when she dies? Who is standing in the corridor of light? Is is guaranteed that one’s relatives line up like a friendly chorus line of love?
She’s spent all her years reckoning with this man. He’s forged checks, she’s written books- they are entwined, whether or not she likes it. He’s 91, and she’s Asian. Would the town really agree that she did right by killing him in a brutal fashion? Or is she really working to not be a one woman better than the Cultural Revolutionary Guard, and we should applaud?
According to her, Ari. We may not be getting all the facts from Sandra.
Yes, curious how one forges a signature to get someone else to pay their taxes. I might need one of those.
I have been through death with both mother and father,and several aunts and uncle’s.
My dad had a stroke and died within 10 days. My mother took about 5 years of failing health before she died.
I have had several long discussions with close friends about euthanasia, at the end of our lives. The reason for choosing euthanasia ,is primarily to avoid pain and discomfort.
My journey through the death of family members has given me a different perspective. It can be a precious experience. At it’s best, death exposes love, expressed in ways not experienced any other way. I saw love shown to my mother by both family and staff. Her thankfulness to me, and her blessing me at her darkest hour, still brings a tear to my eyes. My love shown to her, was returned tenfold. It is still a wonderful memory for me.
My husband’s parents are quite elderly and frail, and his father has been suffering from Alzheimer’s for about a decade now. Fortunately, they have been able to remain in their own home because they can afford a live-in aide, although his mother seems to be slipping, mentally speaking, and that may not be the case for very long.
There are seven siblings on his side of the family which is generally a good thing, although there have been fairly contentious disagreements on big decisions about their situation. One sister in particular is difficult, and her attitude towards her parents is troubling. I’ve seen behavior from her that borders on elder abuse, IMO — not physical, but emotional and mental. No love lost between her and her mother, and I often wonder if these bitter, resentful adult children use their parents’ sudden vulnerability as an opportunity to settle old scores.
Mostly, I tend to come away from visits with them feeling very sad and very frightened for my own old age. They are the generation that believes they’re to do whatever any doctor tells them, and they live in an area where many unscrupulous doctors are preying on the elderly. They continue to have all sorts of little procedures done and take all kinds of pills, and I wonder whatever happened to natural death — not that I wish they were dead, but I can’t help but think this is not what was intended. He’s completely unaware and childlike now, and she’s confused and depressed and tells us all she never expected to live this long and she wonders if “God forgot her” (her words). So very sad. Aging and dying ain’t what they used to be and I’m not so sure that’s a good thing.
I swear, every time I visit I seriously consider taking up a two-pack a day filterless Camel habit, and I thank my lucky stars I live within walking distance of the Golden Gate bridge.
Like the man says, I’d rather die while I’m living than live while I’m dead.
I’m with you. My dad has had Parkinson’s for 20 years. 20 years of gradual, excruciating decline thanks to ‘modern medicine’. He was at home for the first 10 years until my mother could no longer physically pick him up any more and has been in varying levels of skilled care for the last 10 all somehow paid for privately. Unbelievable stress. He is a lovely man but we are all just exhausted except for my childless adult brother who skips all over the world and just pops in occasionally when it’s convenient for him. I live hours away and have school age children including one with now mild special needs. Talk about being squeezed.
My point is that I walk away each time just ripped to shreds thinking about how awful it is to be old now and how I wish for an aneurysm or massive heart attack. I even secretly say to myself how lucky those people are when I hear someone dies suddenly.
Buried in stones is best.
Yes, but I can find no concise statement to say on the matter.
I liked Ms. Loh’s article. I understand all the frustration and I got her sense of humor in it. I feel the same way sometimes, but I would advise in the most serious way possible never to entertain those thoughts for long. Marathons require discipline and a dysfunctional relationship is always skating too close to the edge by its very nature. Laughter is good, but letting the “it shouldn’t be this bad” go is better. Forgive, forgive, forgive – seventy times seven a day. Generally speaking, if you make it as far as 490 times, then it’s tomorrow and you can start all over again! LOL I do crack myself up! Caring for old parents drives you crazy….
I am just now beginning the process of caring for my 80 year old mother, although we have had a long start up. The last five years I’ve been discovering that her bluster and boasting have mostly been lies and I have been spending most of my vacations trying to clean up everything she has left undone for the last 20 years (hoarding, no house cleaning, finances and properties a wreck.) I moved away from her to get away from her, but she moved after me about 10 years ago knowing she was going to need help.
Since last fall, she and her dog have spent most of their time living with me. I’ve been able to get her to various doctors and get some medical issues solved, and thankfully she is able to spend the odd week at her house an hour away, but that won’t last much longer. Before this year is out, she will have to be with me full time or in a facility, she just isn’t able to maintain herself. Unfortunately for me, I struggle to maintain myself when she is with me. Every time when she goes home, I come down sick from relief of the stress, so I don’t know how long I will be able to do this. Chest pains are kicking in now, and my goal isn’t to prevent my death, just to have everything tidied up before I go. That isn’t melodrama, I’m just not a big dreamer anymore.
When my mother moved here, I went into a panicked terror knowing that her desire was to mesh with me and dominate me all over again. I’m glad I got some very good counseling and I still remember things that help me not let her take over yet treat her respectfully. It is confusing to her that I stand up to her emotionally yet take so much care to watch over her, which lets me know I’m doing something right. It also amazes me that I know better and in explicit detail what a lying bully she has always been her whole life, yet I’m more willing than ever to kick anyone’s ass who doesn’t have her best interests at heart.
I know I can’t care for her alone until her death, but I will do what I am able to do as long as I can hold out. (I’m not married and have no children or siblings near to help.) I’ve looked at the situation honestly and realise that my going into the poorhouse doesn’t help her, but I am good with spending all her money to provide for her, and do without any inheritance for me. (Full disclosure: I’m the “working poor.” There is only work to do and debts to pay.) My only brother, who is always in need of cash, does not like that idea. Thankfully, I’m the one with the POA’s.
There are two recommendations I can make to anyone who is taking care of their parents. First, get the Power of Attorney situation dealt with ASAP. My brother and I played good cop/bad cop on her four years ago and managed to get it done. Barely. As I learned to become more bold and just do what had to be done, it has saved her from losing mega bucks. I’m very strict with the money, it is all for her and I reimburse myself only with receipts. Nothing funny and nothing on the side. Maintaining your own integrity in the situation is vital.
Second but not least, my mother is a Christian and so am I. I stick with her because I know that God made me her daughter on purpose, and He knew every mean, hideous thing she would ever do. Nonetheless, He is walking this out with both of us. And, yes, I said she is a Christian, too. I’ve had others really question that, but as her flesh continues to fail and her mind gives up on her, that foundation in her remains. It’s amazing to see that part is immovable. She and I will be having a difficult time of it for awhile, but it won’t last too long. There’s three of us in this together. We will each do what is necessary, with love.
“I realize that it is hard at times to care for elderly parents but a more compassionate approach would be welcome.”
She may care for her father very effectively and compassionately. We cannot know how she actually cares for him from the way she writes about how she feels.
“Do you cope in a more mature way?”
Doing something you should do, but don’t want to do, seems a good definition of maturity. Knowing that you have to deal with the stress that results, and dealing with it with humor and off-stage screams — that’s mature too.
I think it’s fine to hate your parents if they deserve it. It’s not an “issue” at all.
Writers write. She writes about her life. That’s her schtick, so I don’t see any problem with it. Writers have a duty to be honest and it seems like she is. Maybe she’s not a nice person, either, but she’s making that clear.
That’s a lot better than lying, isn’t it?
I felt the same way. I appreciate her shamelessness and honesty and immediately borrowed from the library the book she recommended — Bernard Cooper’s “The Bill from My Father,” which was excellent.
I agree with your take on this. Her MO is to write honestly about uncomfortable topics. I don’t usually agree with her and believe she does have a lot of odd “issues” but I don’t think she’s trolling for sympathy and appreciate the honesty. People who are taking this article as a jumping off point to be sanctimonious about chixtoday might consider the effort she made to reconcile with her father, and that it was rather successful to an extent. As many have noted, caring for an elderly parent is difficult on many levels and I would imagine even more difficult when there’s bad blood. Is it possible that the conflicted relationship with her dad contributed to her “issues” as much as the odd social messages that were delivered to women and men of her generation? I think it is.
I cared for my chronically ill mother from the time I was 9 years old until I went to college, and it was good training because I’ve been the primary caregiver for our chronically ill autistic son for the past 20 years. I say this solely to explain I understand Ms. Loh’s frustration and desire to escape. But I don’t understand her lack of empathy. It’s hard to be a happy and successful caregiver without empathy.
My father quit high school to join the USN during WWII. He left the USN and joined the USAAF just before it became the USAF, and ended up in both Korea and Vietnam. Among all his adventures he managed to snag an Irish (from the motherland) wife, and retire to Ireland after an eventful military career. He died three years after leaving the US military. Completely unable to handle the civilian world, I have no doubt that he died of stress. Though, his diet of beer, cigarets, and fatty foods can’t have helped.
My mother was an almost completely passive and subservient wife. Think of “Angela’s Ashes,” and you have the type. She smoked like a chimney; mostly – I think – to relieve her own stress with her situation.
My father was a brutally violent and drunken man, while my mother put up no defense. For myself, I fled home as soon as I could and never came back.
My father died of a heart attack. My mother died of various cancers, starting with her lungs, and then metastasizing.
I remember telling one of my crying sisters, on the day of my father’s death (I was 13 at the time) that it was the best thing that ever happened to us. When my mother fell ill, I waited until just about the last moment before showing up. The difference between commission and omission, I suppose.
Bottom line is that I was raised by a pair of highly fallible and damaged people, and could not, or did not, give much help during a final illness. The violence and viciousness was too much. I’m not particularly worried by my inaction. I never fought back, as such, I simply showed my love for my family by getting out of it as quickly as I could.
I have no sympathy for this woman. She celebrated her affair and leaving her husband a few years ago on the pages of the Atlantic. Now she is railing against taking care of her aging father.
I hope her daughters are paying attention and leave her in the dust as she ages.
I know many people who have dealt with the aging parent – with dignity and love. If they lost it, they did so in private – never made a public spectacle or made money selling their woes.
May her dad live a few more years – if only out of spite to torment her.
Yes. We did care for aging parents and grandparents. My wife’s grandfather died in our house under hospice care in 2003. My father more recently on February 1st.
And yes, I’d like to think we coped in a more mature way. What we did not do was scream how we wanted the elderly we were caring for to die. And subsequently hyperventilate over the coffee maker. While at work.
We cared for them. We worked. We took care of our children. We dealt with marriage conflicts. Dealing with everything you may not want to, but do anyway, because that is what adults do.
Perhaps Sandra needs an adult in her life.
Good for you!
I bet she was easy pickings for people like me who liked easy to get sex when I was young.
Reason one why I reassure my daughter every day how much I love her. That, and I might need her to take care of me when I’m old.
Euthanasia/suicide is a more compassionate approach; Too bad it is illegal.
Who wants to live to be a hundred? Ask a 99 year old.
My 99 year old great-grandmother would disagree with this statement. She loves her life even after outliving two children and her husband. She considers it a privilege to have seen the things she has seen and done the things she has done. Why do you believe all old people are pessimist? Most of them that I have met consider it something to celebrate.
err, that’s my point. A 99 year old of all people wants to be 100. Legal euthanasia helps people like the author talk their parents into suicide. What are the bets that her dad wouldn’t already be dead if it was legal?
Sandra Tsing Loh is 99?
Well I just got off the phone with my 84-year old mother who called me (the fourth time today) telling me that I am a callous, selfish, unloving son for putting her in an assisted living facility (since she is no longer able to dress her self and has regular bouts of nighttime dementia.
It is hard….and it is hard not be be resentful since her health problems have been a life-long issue for us (asthma as long as I can remember, four hip replacements over 30 years). Quite frankly, I have spent more time taking care of her than she did taking care of me as a child.
But do I want her “..TO DIEEEEE!!!”? No.
Do I want her to “go gently into that good night” and not deteriorate further into indignity, anger and the bitterness and pain of old age?
Yes…..Yes I do.
And I do not think there is anything wrong with that..
We’re taking care of my mother-in-law who has Alzheimers, and I can understand how frustrating it can be. I’ve lost my temper a couple of times and regret it still. What bothers me about this woman is her selfishness, lack of maturity and the belief she can put a colleague in a very uncomfortable position. Common sense says you leave personal problems home, yet here she is unloading on a potential witness to a crime while creating a scene at work. Her boss should have been notified of her mental state.
I read her article the other day, too, and all I could think of was what a selfish woman. I would do anything to have my mom and dad back. I miss them every single day.
I guess I’m lucky, my mom had a cerebral hemorrhage, went into a coma, and died 5 days later.
My dad, wonderful stubborn old guy that he was, survived and beat colon cancer, stomach cancer and all kinds of other issues only to die of embarrassment after he broke his hip and after hip replacement surgery was forced to wear adult diapers while he learned to walk again. He had a heart attack and passed away a month after that darn surgery.
I was out of town, but I used all my vacation to drive to St. Louis every Wed. and then come back home on Sunday – for weeks. I know that’s not the same as being with an ill parent every day, but if I could have been with dad every day, I sure would have.
This woman who wished her father dead has something wrong with her soul.
Maybe she had something damaged by a father who refused to indulge in Christmas or heat for the home while she was growing up.
What a selfish being! Unfortunately she represents a whole class of people in the developed world who have benefited from its material wealth but have no sense of obligation to others,they do not understand commitment and have no idea of their duty to others. For them “when the going gets tough they get out”. Her problem is she can’t abandon her father because even though she wants to she’s afraid of what people will think. So she’s not only selfish she’s dishonest which since she cheated on her family is in line with who she is. What a genuinely nasty piece of work! Ugh!
I took care of my Dad when he was dying of colon cancer. I did it because I loved him and it was my duty. Then he left everything (which was a lot) to my sister who showed up just in time to pull the plug. I found this out right before he died. They’d both known this for years, and my father never told me despite seeing me every week and both of us going on hunting trips together.
So… parents can be jerks. They’re just people, and don’t necessarily deserve to be remembered fondly. What matters is what people do. This author is taking care of her father. She might be frustrated, but she’s doing it. She could quite easily walk away and not say anything. Would that be better?
The same thing happened in my father’s family. “Stepmom,” whose wealth consisted entirely of property she inherited from her husband, not only disinherited all of the children from her husband’s prior marriage (he was widowed when he married her) but she also disinherited two of her own three children, INCLUDING the daughter who lovingly cared for her for several years as her health declined and death approached.
This occurred when I was growing up, but I learned a lot from it. Whenever somebody says to me, “X is going to inherit a lot of money in a few years,” I always reply, “Don’t count on it.”
I have also seen a lot of elderly women who have outlived ALL of their children, and I think that as family sizes continue to decline, this will become more and more common.
That she has feelings of resentment seems quite natural to me, and I think no less of her for that; by our actions are we judged. If she abandoned him, I would certainly think less of her, while taking into consideration that this just might be justified given the unknown-to-me circumstances. But that passage at the beginning? Woman way past a nervous breakdown!
Though I’m not a fan of Sandra Tsing Loh’s work (too much estrogen), I can empathize with how she feels.
My father is 84 and in the hospital again. He’s a diabetic who refuses to modify his diet; he eats cookies, ice cream, and pie every day. He’s had a quintuple bypass but eats two-inch-thick salami and cheese sandwiches and no vegetables. He drank a quart or more of whiskey every day for about 60 years, and smoked four to five packs of cigarettes a day for 50 years.
Excuse the graphic description, but he has bleeding hemorrhoids that make him panic and have to be rushed to the emergency room because he thinks he’s dying when he bleeds into the toilet. He takes 18 medications a day and refuses to follow all his doctors’ orders. He still tries to mow the lawn or put in a new concrete driveway by himself. He’s been in intensive care twice in the past two years and he’s been hospitalized five times in the same period.
I moved next door to him and my mother and take care of them, because it’s my duty as a son, but my father is impossible. He’s a petulant, whiny hypochondriac who simultaneously does everything he can to ruin his remaining health because he believes normal rules don’t apply to him. He was a terrible father who beat and insulted his children incessantly. The last time he was in intensive care, he started crying, saying, “I don’t think I’m gonna get outta here this time!” My brother–who actually hates my father–said, “Well, let’s not think that way. All you’ll have to do is take care of yourself a little better.”
Instantly my father became Snake Man, as we called him when we were younger. He hissed at my brother, “Are you saying I don’t know enough to even take care of myself? Is that it?”
He’s a mean, nasty, arrogant, frightened old man who simultaneously demands attention and then belittles and attacks you if you give it to him. He makes fun of me because I was recently diagnosed with Meniere’s disease, which is incurable and restricts my diet to an insane degree. My father has several times reminded me what a pain it is for him that my rotational vertigo now prevents me from running errands for him. As I struggle with an incurable disease that often keeps me housebound, my own father mocks me.
But I’m a better man than he is, so I take care of him. Even so, when he’s finally gone, all I’ll feel is relief and a sense of freedom. I’ll feel unburdened in more ways than I can count.
Dad is closer to 90 than 80, and it’s tough seeing him in a prolonged decline. Even so, being with him each day is a blessing.
There may be a day when I will wish him to die, but if it comes it will be because I don’t want his last days to be like Mother’s and not because of any unresolved hostility between us.
I believe most of us have daddy [and mommy] issues, but I dealt with mine a long time ago.
Interesting to see this. Spent a couple hours yesterday catching up with an old acquaintance who used to have an office next to mine.
He grew up with a very verbally abusive and harsh father. He left home early, in his mid teens. When his father became old this man took care of all his dad’s medical expenses. His siblings refused to have anything to do with the dad. He believed that that was the humane thing to do.
The friend was interested in the fact my mom, who is 95, lives with me and spends time with my sister. Our experience in no way compares with his. but the obvious is worth stating — in the best of circumstances it impacts one’s life.
My sister and brother-in-law have his mother living with them in a MIL apartment. He (not my sister) takes responsibility for and her activities. She is not a pleasant person. Never was.
Everyone has a story. Just not sure why the world has to know.
Raise taxes on everyone, especially the wealthy who have yet to pay their fair share. Set up govt run pre-school-esque old folks homes to warehouse the old, a crematorium at the back, recycle the heat to heat up the homes. Problem solved.
I am typing this from the guest bedroom in my parents’ Florida home. Mom has signifcant physical disabilities. Dad is still sharp in some ways – but – memory has become worse and worse, along with some other cognitive abilities. I am handling most all of their finances, while balancing doctor appointments, my own full time job, and more. They need me to come for a week once a month – so – I come.
Many days are filled with frustration and fear and sadness. Yet, I remind myself of how fortunate I am to still have them – and how much they have given to me for all the decades I’ve been alive.
I can understand the feelings of “I can’t take it anymore.” Still…. deep down, I feel that it is my honor to be giving back to the people who have loved and cared for me. They went through so much and sacrificed so much so my life could be as good as possible. How can I not give as much as I am able to give at this stage in their lives?
Didn’t she dump her husband because she was bored with him? AFAIK, she is a very sad example of a human being. The worst part is that The Atlantic keeps giving her miserable narcissism a platform.
She did indeed, but it’s even more interesting than that.
A few years before dumping her husband, she wrote a rave review of Joan Sewell’s book “I’d Rather Eat Chocolate.” In that book, Sewell explained that she has no interest in sex, and then spelled out how she kept her lusty husband happy without engaging in anything as yucky as intercourse” Short answer: he got to look at a lot of porn (lucky guy).
Sandra LOVED that book, and used it to launch into a rant against selfish men who want to have sex, when their poor wives just want to be left alone.
Not long afterward, she had an affair of her own, broke up her marriage, and wrote ANOTHER loing article complaining about men who DON’T want sex, and who leave their eager wives frustrated.
Got that? In Sandra Tsing Loh’s world, men are bad when they want sex more than their wives do AND when they don’t want it as much as their wives do!
For most of her life, my mother was a kind, considerate, deeply religious woman. Unfortunately, due to complications from diabetes, she had a build up of ammonia in her blood which basically left her “drunk” for the last five years of her life. She did not know anyone. She thought the year was 1941. She developed a tendency to fondle any adult males who came within reach. She cussed my step-father daily for not fixing her the foods she wanted. She explained to everyone, including us children and our step-father, the intimate details of the physical relationship with our biological father. She had gag inducing gas which never stopped.
She had every shred of dignity ripped away from her. Every one of us children wished for her death. Both for her sake and for ours.
I do not know Loh and her situation is different from what my siblings and I went through. However, having gone through what we did, I realize that those feelings are possible.
I’m in something of a similiar boat. Mom has dementia and has become incontinet. We’ve found a good home for her and she has financial resources for about 3 years stay. (Dad died in ’09; we put in her in the home a month later. Don’t how they survived together as bad as he was physically.)
The loss of dignity is too much to contemplate. I praise my brother constantly for visiting her (he’s 20 minutes away; I’m 3,000 miles) and ask for updates. But now she’s so bad and difficult to be around, 2x a week visits have devolved to once a month. I cannot bear to imagine her in this state, and yes, I pray to God to take her soon. She has already passed in my mind.
If she wanted him to die she surely could have made it happen. And she wouldn’t be writing about it. So, she wants him to live and she hates herself for wanting that. And writes about it. And we all laugh at her emotion.
She has been tempered in a hot forge and is stronger for it.
It is us who laugh who will be tested.
One of the problems with growing up is that you find curious inconsistencies that you have with your friends. An example might be feeling that you are required to excel in school(Asian) while your friends take a more measured approach toward the final grade(Western).
Cultures sometimes follow families through time and manifest themselves in unusual ways. A nephew of mine was married to a young woman from western China who grew up with the custom of bad mouthing the husband or son. My brother refused to except that as proper conduct and didn’t want the daughter around him. A clash of cultures decided the fate of that marriage. I wouldn’t appreciate listening to Tsing-Loh’s complaints but I would wonder how much her families culture colored her feelings. The Tiger Mom got pilloried for that same confusion.
I’m 60. Yesterday I rushed home from work because my mother was crying and panicky. I arrived to find her having a cheerful phone conversation. If I miss too much time from work (I’m part time but enough for benefits) I’ll lose my health insurance.
She can afford a fulltime caregiver, but won’t hire one for all the hours I’m working. Except for 8 or10 days of work related travel in the last 4 years, I haven’t had a vacation in 10 years of caring for her.
My doctors are telling me I need to change something.
I’ve managed to keep my mother in her own home, but at what cost to my own welfare?
I get what Ms. Loh is saying.
I know your stress well. Learn to talk her thru the panics. If she doesn’t actually need 911, then call back 45 minutes later and she will be completely different. I’m shocked at how callous I feel doing that, but we have to work. Remember, it’s time she doesn’t get to make all the decisions. You do. See if you can get a service to check on her once a day or three times a week for an hour just before a mealtime, dinner or lunch. Lots of times it’s low blood sugar and lack of contact with people to chat with. If she can be outward directed to another person instead of stuck inside her head, the anxiety can be diverted. Just an idea. Also, see if there is respite care at a good facility nearby. Some very nice ones have where you can check her in for a week, then take her back home after your vacation. I haven’t tried it yet, but I will. We both need a break sometimes.
The doctors are right, you do have to change things, for both your goods. Good luck.
I’m glad Dr. Helen wrote her commentary on Loh’s article, and I’m glad Loh wrote it. Perhaps I was just so colored by my own experience, which is ongoing, that I didn’t come down hard on Loh.
My father sexually abused numerous relatives when they were children. My mother covered it up after the fact. I didn’t find out for 15 years. That was 20 years ago.
We were all estranged from him. Long story, but about three years ago, he got Alzheimer’s and because of a complicated series of family issues, all of which could have been avoided if my advice had been taken 20 years ago or 10 years ago or five years ago, but no, that would be too easy … anyway, I was asked to help him. My mother essentially painted herself into a corner and I needed to help.
So I did. He had been out of my life at a therapist’s suggestion for 20 years, and here he was, back. Ugh. Anyway, as his Alzheimer’s escalated, his care took up more and more of my time. For about a year, he was in my house. It nearly ruined my life. Actually, it may have ruined my life. I don’t feel anything like the person I was … it has almost destroyed my love of living.
I had to handle numerous surgeries, and while he was with me, he became bathroom obsessive. I found it difficult to shower because he’d crap on the floor if he couldn’t get in. He would inevitably need the bathroom any time I went in it. I started showering every three days. He leave crap in the sink, he’d leave his crappy underwear everywhere.
Anyway, after he’d crapped on my floor for about the 20th time, I finally got him into assisted living, but he got thrown out of that for violence. Everything I tried to do — he found a way to screw it up, and this time, unintentionally. He dominated every minute of every day and thwarted any effort of mine to get into a routine. I had to be home every night to watch him. I had to manage healthcare aides I’d hired.
I nearly lost my business, my health, and I did lose my mind. I wanted him to just die already. I was absolutely cornered, with few ways out. At the end, I was barely functioning myself … and I wasn’t sure if I would be able to even have the wherewithal to get him out of my house. I sucked it up and did it, though.
For about eight months, I experienced cognitive difficulties — his last four months with me and the four after he left. I had trouble speaking. I couldn’t understand things that I read — things that I know I had the ability to understand. I couldn’t do logic or math in my head. Even now, six months after he left, I have lost some cognitive brainpower. I still have trouble finding the right word.
During the worst of it, a few times, while running errands, I asked people for very basic assistance … I told them that something was wrong with me and could they assist me with this or that, e.g., how to use the ATM card swipe machine, could they write down instructions for me, could they please explain it again, things like that.
I realized he would take everything I had, even my sanity. You have no idea what it can do to you. There was a moment … I don’t know how to put it, but there was a moment where I saw that my mind was going to collapse involuntarily … that my mind was going to break. Not me getting upset, not getting extremely upset, but actually shatter. That’s when I knew he had to leave.
About two weeks ago, he did nearly die. And I realized two things — my conscience was clear. And I didn’t really want him to die. He’s deteriorating pretty rapidly now. I don’t know how much time he has. I worry about his soul. I had last rites done for him, even though I’m Catholic and he’s not. (He doesn’t believe in God or psychology or anything beyond his own selfish mind. I decided since I’m POA, I can be spiritual POA, too
)
I told him he was going to die and he needed to make his peace with God. I have sent a home aide, someone he likes, to visit him five days a week while he was in assisted living and in various hospitals and the nursing home.
And the sick thing I still love him … but all he does is take. I find myself making excuses in my mind for him.
Anyway, caring for a dementia-ridden parent is difficult at best. If he’d been a good man, or even an ordinarily rotten one, I think I could have done it from my love and sense of duty. But an incestuous pedophile who just takes and who gets kicked out of nursing homes for violence? It was difficult.
So I identified and didn’t compare with Loh’s story.
Congratulations on your self-sacrifice. However, I can assure you Gen-X has not been so culturally conditioned to selfless martyrdom. Most of them will be happy to watch abusive/neglectful/abandoning parents die in the gutter. This, coupled with the likelihood that the social safety net is almost guaranteed to collapse in the near future means that things are going to get ugly as the Boomers slip into senescence.
She sounds like a young lady prone to acting out (is ‘drama queen’ non-PC these days?). I’ve been and am going through this: Alcoholic/invalided father passed 20 years ago, alcoholic/sliding to dementia mother in facility
last few years…
…And then there were the parents-in-law – Courtly, old-school sweetheart
M-I-L spend her last 15+ years sinking into severe Alzheimers (nonverbal, immobile, incontinent, etc). Compounded by the F-I-L, a domineering, craven,
bullying SOB (with his own med issues) who refused to put M-I-L into facility or – until the end – even home care. So, the one daughter (my wife) was The Caregiver for both, brother #1 being a non-entity (except in re money), bro #2 fled the state years ago…
…Wife put her career on hold, but that was the least of the problems. The psych/emotional toll has been devastating, to both her and to our 32-year marriage. Where I’m going with all this is that cooperating siblings (or some equivalent) make a HUGE difference in the quality and sanity of both
the caregivers and the cared-fors. In most of these situations, one child tends to ‘take point’, and do most of the care. Okay, but if you’re not the ‘point’ kid, PLEASE, people, pitch in and help them once in awhile.
Amazed by all these people who never met Loh’s father, but feel qualified to have an opinion on how she should feel.
Not on what she should do, but on how she should feel about what she is doing. Including Dr Helen?
Did I care for aging parents?
No, they moved so far away and had enough money to look after themselves that their children didn’t need to. They also repelled offers of help from us while complaining that we neglected them.
Did I cope in what Doctor Smith calls “a more mature way”?
Probably not, but my father was a selfish shit and my mother worshipped him. If anyone else wants to martyr themselves to awful parents, that’s OK with me, but I sympathized with Sandra Tsing Loh.
An entire article devoted to how women feel about men, but not a single word in the Atlantic article whether the coffee was any good. How do they expect to sell magazines?
So it’s not enough that some of us are obliged to put our careers on hold (and risk losing our homes and carefully tended professional capital — not to mention our sanity) to look after elderly parents (some of whom did a poor to middling job of looking after us)?
Now we have to pretend we’re having the time of our lives, and never express the frustrations that accompany this?
And if we do, we have “daddy issues”?
Good to know.
Kathy,
No one said that you had to be having the time of your life, that’s a far cry from wishing someone dead so you don’t have to be bothered anymore and writing up their shortcomings in a narcissistic article that is all about you. Of course people have frustrations with their aging parents but wishing them dead so you don’t have to be bothered anymore shows a low level of empathy and a good deal of hate.
Just to point out, was Ms Loh herself who used the term ‘daddy issues’.
As an only child, I’ve gone through this twice. I’ve also helped other elderly relatives and it’s been difficult. I understand what Tsing-Loh is saying, but I don’t respect it. She is a professional whiner (I’m bored in my marriage, my kids’ schools aren’t good enough, I’m getting old, wah). Life today is fairly burden free. Get over it.
“I am a 47-year-old woman whose commitment to monogamy, at the very end, came unglued.”
At least it’s not about her.
A month before my 89-year old wise Auny Mary died of cancer told me, “Dying is hard.” A good thing to remember when you think your life sucks.
My mum died 19 years ago at the age of 60. I’d gladly cook meals, give sponge baths, and change diapers for a decade in exchange for having her back to meet her only granddaughter (and her daughter-in-law) just once.
My dad lives 3000 miles away, and because I don’t have enough money to raise a child and travel around the world, I get to see and talk to him over the internet – we haven’t met in person in five years. He has a standing invitation to move back in with me, but right now he wants his independence and his own life.
Watch out what you ask for. You might get it.
It’s easy to log onto the internet and pass judgement on someone you don’t know.
Fact is, however, that caring for an elderly parent in failing health can be extremely taxing, emotionally and physically. It’s not uncommon for people to have these thoughts (“I wish my father would die”) and immediately feel guilty about it. And the person having these thoughts doesn’t need to be an ungrateful, selfish brat with Daddy issues to have them.
After reading some of these posts, I’d like to throw out a little advice that might help. If your parent’s personality has really gotten panicked and unreasonable, consider asking the doctor to prescribe an anti-depressant. My sweet, passive mother’s personality took a nose dive the last couple of years of her life. It was like a completely different person. An anti-depressant didn’t solve everything, but it really took the edge off of the anger. It took a few weeks, but the world wasn’t ending every day after we started giving her the Cymbalta.
Second, some of you have to push the sitter situation if it can be afforded. Or be ready for it. It’s usually a minimum wage job, and they often mostly sit around and watch tv, but it’s an extra pair of eyes that can give the caretaker a break. Once the parent is used to one sitter, they are more likely to accept another one. Home health care agencies sometimes have lists of people who do this, so that’s a good place to start.
Some people who have been through this with their own parents know of wonderful sitters who might need work. This can be a lifesaver. My elderly father-in-law was really resisting sitters until he kept falling when no one was around. We found a lovely woman who he now just adores. His mood lifted in a huge way after she was hired.
I do think that some of you from really abusive situations could use some therapy to sort it out. It’s difficult enough when the parent was a good one. You deserve to find some peace about it all.
Initially I was very sympathetic to Ms Loh’s predicament, since I spent the last 3 years caring for my wife who died in December of Multiple Systems Atrophy, an incurable and untreatable disease. There were days when the pain meds did my wife no good and there was nothing else I could do to make her comfortable. She would moan and moan, for hours, until I couldn’t stand to hear her anymore and I’d have to go outside. I too thought how much better off she would be if she just died in her sleep. And then one morning, two months ago, she did. I can’t begin to describe all the emotions I went through, and am still going through.
Ours was not a perfect marriage, but she was loyal to me and I was to her. Apparently loyalty was a concept Ms Loh was never taught. I have walked that metaphorical mile in Ms Loh’s shoes, so I cannot condemn her. But by the time I’d finished reading her story my sympathy was tempered by disgust. Now I feel nothing for her but sorrow – and very little of that.
“Apparently loyalty was a concept Ms. Loh was never taught”
I guess a little understanding (not excusing) is in order. If Ms. Loh’s description of her Dad is even half accurate, it’s no wonder she grew up to be what she is. Not many of us can rise above such a sh***y upbringing.
The opposite reaction is occuring in my family. I’m now in my mid-thirties and incapacitated and I still look for ways to show my appreciation to my parents for all they’ve done, and I barely know them as people.
My father is slowly fading health-wise, although the males in my family last forever. No genetic diseases.
The last spate of bad hurricanes had a large branch come through their roof in the Carolinas – I kept insisting I’d come down and help them out with the cleanup. My father finally had to tell me to stop, the insurance company will take care of it.
When I see them I’m on my absolute best behavior so they enjoy the time, and I am firmly against anything that will spoil their retirement.
They screwed up a lot, and I do mean a lot, but I can’t say I’d do any better, They provided, they tried, they were very sincere and meant well; That counts for a huge deal with me.
From the bit of her article that I could stand, here’s what I did not get … what are the current behaviors of her father that make her so angry.
Help me out here. I did not get the impression that he kicks her ass when she visits him. Just what is he doing now to deserve such hatred from his daughter?
I don’t know what my grandmother went through with her mother- ten years of complete alzheimer’s taking away her favorite person. She visited every week at the nursing home. I don’t know that I am half the person she is.
I don’t know that I’ll find out, either. Both of my parents are on huge doses of all sorts of medications. I think they’d die within a week of stopping them. They are both dependent on the VA. They arranged that earlier, which is good. We don’t have the multiple thousand dollars each month for their medications, even with insurance co-pays. It actually gives us pause, taking our children to the doctor. One kid requires $80 bottles of abx. He’s stripped out our medical budget and half the food budget, for one bout of strep throat, and that’s with insurance.
My MIL took her mother in to her house. She embittered her own son against his grandmother, and nearly broke her marriage. She gets really guilty and over-emotional about how heroic her mother was and how it’s necessary- but she also insists that she get sent to a nursing home, rather than live with us. I think she wants to die in her own apartment. She’d sold her house for fear of taxes, and so on. So I don’t think she expects anything from us. She hasn’t expected kindness from anyone, ever. I feel bad for her, but I think she’s going to end like she lived.
What scares me about her is that a few years ago she wanted all of us to sign an aggressive DNR order. It went beyond just do-not-resuscitate, near skating into euthanasia. She wanted both my husband- her son- and me- her daughter-in-law who doesn’t know her very well- to sign. I begged off- I don’t want to agree, legally to the equivalent of a pillow over the face of a helpless old lady. I asked her to go to her pastor. He wouldn’t sign, either, for the same reason. She was really angry with me, for not signing.
It wasn’t just a regular DNR. By the wording of it, I would have lost both my parents in my early twenties, before they could see me get married, or they could hold their grandchildren, and before they could reconcile to their different churches, their other children, anything. My dad would not have survived to meet his second wife. He’s a blessing to her and to her family, as well.
I’ve been the only caregiver for my father for more than ten years. Dad’s stroke left him speechless and unable to walk or use his right arm. Mom, who died recently, went blind and mostly deaf soon after Dad’s stroke.
My experience with my two brothers and two sisters (who all live nearby) is that they don’t want to know. They don’t want to hear or know what it takes to keep an aphasic, wheelchair-bound elderly man clean, fed, alert and healthy.
People don’t want to know. They’ve got their own problems. If my own siblings won’t listen or do anything to help – they’ve always demurred with a “I’m kind of busy this week at work” – why should strangers.
I’m sympathetic to the author’s death wish. But it’s not my father who I sometimes think it would be better to not wake up in the morning.
Please, John, there is help out there, even if your siblings are “too busy.” There are people who will help, even if they are strangers. You need to take care of yourself, too. I have been a caregiver. My mother died recently after years of dementia. I understand the hopelessness and despair but, please, you are important and your life is worth living. Seek out those will help you and then LET THEM. God bless you.
I’m luck, both my folks are still going strong. I read the article but found the author so repellent, I was unable to muster a great deal of empathy for what is, objectively, a very difficult time. It probably didn’t help that I’d read her previous confession of adultery.
I took care of my mother when she was declining. I moved into her neighborhood, checked on her each morning before work, called her several times a day and the neighbors were made aware that she was often home alone. She rarely ate dinner alone. On weekends I included her in beachside afternoon happy hours and took her to brunch each Sunday. She enjoyed socializing. My only problem with her was that she sought a husband for me until the end. I miss her dearly.
This is one of the saddest — and most telling — articles I’ve read in a long time. However, I’m going to just assume I was lucky in that mom was not only a great mother, but my best g.f. for yrs. I don’t think the author had that great of a relationship w/her dad before this started anyway. It was hell for our family those last 8 months after we found mom had Stage IV cancer; the 3rd time in her life she’d battled this insidious disease (at 40, 65, and 83). My brother & his family live a bit over 2 hrs. from the home place, I live 3 hrs. At the beginning of the end, we’d alternate long wknds. Then b/c he had young children and a hectic, long hrs. job, I took over and except for a few days here & there spent the last 6 mos. back with my folks. (At home I had a husband & dog; I was in school so could withdraw and take it back up later). Dad wasn’t much help; he was still in denial.
It wasn’t easy or fun. It WAS what I could do, and I’ll always be grateful to my husband for the chance to be there for my mom. He was for his as well (she lived w/him), so he knew how important this kind of … well, obligation is (at least for our age group, 50+). It’s the final way to say tell parents how thankful you are for their love & support all your life, and how much those feelings go right back to them. Mom & I were, and still are, heartline connected. How could I NOT render her every service I could w/o complaint or getting too much in her way?
It’s been almost 2 yrs. now since she left us, and dad’s still rattling around in a big house, alone (miles from town, btw). He’s now 85, and still very active, but the time’s coming for him also where he’ll have to move somewhere more populated at the very least. I know when he’s at last ready to lay down his burden, I’ll be there for him too. Right now my darlin’ & I make a long wknd. trip once a month (or more) to insure all’s well with him & the house. We’ve encouraged him to not tackle anything alone that might be overly challenging, but wait ’til we can help.
While I can sorta understand the author, I frankly found her tirade … tiring. Also whining, weird & ungrateful, and lastly, unhelpful.