“I don’t want to get old” has become a mantra of sorts for me and several of my close friends. We have elderly parents and caring for them has often tossed us headlong into the twilight zone. Well, it seems that way.
We really should dub ourselves the Queens of Frustration.
I’ve always thought is was great when I heard someone up in years still lived in their home, still was able to take care of their needs. Then I came to realize that their children took turns “watching out” for or taking the parents to doctor appointments., or being the bad guy that day or week or month. It seemed the right thing to do and it spread the shit out.
All my life I regretted that I hadn’t had siblings, and that is truer now more than ever. All the burden of caring for a parent, the frustrations that come when their mind plays trick on them, when they loose stuff and patience and blame it on the caregiver, when their bodies and minds fail them over simple things, sometimes feel like more than one person can bear.
Though one of my friends has siblings, they’re farther away, and since she’s closer–as in a five hour drive closer–she gets the brunt of it. She has two parents to deal with, and it weighs on her mind 24/7.
My other friend is like me, an only child. Right now, like me, her mother is going through some bizarre crap. And we are smack dab in the middle, with no easy way out. We get it all, every day.
We’re damned if we do, and damned if we don’t.
Yep, Peter Pan had it right. Take my advice. Don’t get old.