“On siblings who don’t help with an elderly parent’s care,” was the title of advice given by a reader of Carolyn Hax’s column while she is away and appeared August 29, 2014 in the Miami Herald:
I am one of three sisters. When our father died 12 years ago, I became my mother’s lifeline, mainly because I live the closest to her.
Five years ago she was moved from her apartment into assisted living and it was very hard for her being confined to one room. I became the “sole” family caregiver. My two sisters would simply say, if you need help, just let me know. I got angrier and angrier as time went on until my husband suggested (strongly) that I just let it go and give to my mom what time and effort I could. Her last two years were very special to me. We shared in little things, laughed a lot, cried some. I learned things about her life that I had not known before. On her last day we received a call that her death was getting close and my husband and I went to be with her. I called my sisters, who told me they didn’t need to come because they had said their goodbyes. I had the privilege of stroking her cheek, telling her I loved her and would miss her. I had the privilege of hearing her try to speak and to see a single tear run down her cheek.
My anger is gone now and all I feel is sadness that my sisters missed so much joy they could have had during Mother’s last days. I will never understand their behavior, but I guess I don’t have to. – M.
It was difficult to read and brought back difficult memories of my mother (GG’s) last weeks of life. My mother, a Holocaust survivor, was active and vibrant until weeks before her death from pancreatic cancer. She went to the gym four days a week in full makeup. She never would leave her house, even to get the mail, without full makeup. One Sunday she had severe abdominal pain, went to the emergency room, and by the next day, my brother and I were in full survivor fight mode we inherited trying to get her to M.D. Anderson Cancer Center for treatment. The wonderful doctor there told us to enjoy our time with her that we had left, which he gave in weeks rather than months.
This Grandma was fortunate to have a sibling who, with me, spent the last weeks with our mother. As the reader above says, sometimes it takes knowing how little time there is left to reflect on a life and the relationship of parent-child that is just taken for granted as the years fly by. Death and the time leading to it, like any other life passage event, requires a pause in the busy life we lead, for many reasons lost on many who let life’s important events slip by.
Becoming my mother’s caretaker, I not only showed her how much she meant to us, I showed her that she was a role model that I was emulating. As did the reader above, I also learned things about her life that I had not known before. What we shared about her life in those last few weeks enabled me to tell her how strong she was and how much I appreciated that strength to survive the Holocaust and make a new life in a new country for herself and her family. Those times we shared, like the reader above says, remain vivid and poignant in my memory.
Yes, it was easier to take a break from life for a few weeks, rather than months or years. The reader above mentioned two years of attention and care she gave her mother. A long (we never say old) friend came long distance to be with her mother a weekend every six weeks or so for years before her mother’s death. She reflected that her mother spent years caring for her and this was acknowledgment of her mother’s sacrifices for her. We all choose our sacrifices in life and the reader’s siblings made theirs in their choice – they lost the opportunity to participate in a life passage event of a family member, equally important to those happy life passage events.
As important, I feel that my brother and I became role models to my children and grandchildren of how a parent should be treated with respect at the end of life. Children and grandchildren learn best by example.
The reader, who wrote the article, does not talk about whether or not her mother had grandchildren. A life well lived includes showing others how to live life well and how to treat those close to you at the hard times as well as easy times in life.
Those we lose live on in our memory and we can create good memories even at the end of life.
Joy,
Mema
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