In recent days, I have become the care taker/taxi driver/go to person for Uncle Huey. I have also been helping mom by driving her around since she broke her foot. Her foot is healed, and she is back to being independent. What I've noticed in recent days is how many people my age are helping their aging parents. I've felt some comfort knowing that I'm not alone in the journey.
The other day, mom and I were waiting for an elevator at Lovelace Medical Center, when I happened to become aware of three people having a rather loud conversation. Two older people, a man with a walker, hearing aid, and some obvious health problems. His wife, who was explaining, in a rather loud voice, to their son that the urine specimen had obviously gotten lost between the lab and the doctors office. They needed to come back to the doctors office that afternoon. While the wife was yelling at the son about the missing urine specimen, the husband was holding onto the walker with a death grip, and asking the son if he would be available that afternoon to bring them back. The wife then yelled, "I could drive us here." The expression on the son's face was priceless.
It's an awkward place to be for all involved. As a daughter/niece, I find myself trying to find that fine line of being supportive, and letting mom and Uncle Huey have the dignity of being self sufficient, and trying to make sure that I don't dishonor them in anyway by taking away from them. Uncle Huey and his walker can be dangerous, so I feel like a cop on traffic duty. The other day when we arrived at his doctors appointment, there was long line of people waiting to check in. The walker picked up speed, and Uncle Huey was stretching out behind it with his lame foot dragging. I was trying to get ahead of the walker and Uncle Huey before he wiped out the long line of people. After we got him stopped, and everyone ahead of him was safe, he told me that one of the brakes wasn't working properly. Okay! Need to remember to bring along the set of Allen wrenches the next time and tighten that.
As I'm observing other people with their parents, I know that they are also observing me with mine. We can feel overwhelmed, alone in the process, but we aren't alone. I don't know these other people, or their parents, but I understand their struggle. The day of role reversal came sooner than we thought, and we feel we're not ready to deal with it. Ready or not, here it is. Just like parenting, we didn't have a manual then, and we don't have one now. It's a learn as we go process, and there will be some set backs. There will be some things we wish we would have done differently, but we just have to forge ahead.
One thing that I have learned in all of this, I need to be a nice person now, because when I get old, I don't want to be a pain in the back side of my three children. It will be hard enough for them to take care of me without me being mean to them. Not that mom or Uncle Huey are being mean to me, but I have seen that in others. I should probably get a hearing aid now, so I can practice talking with my "inside" voice. I don't need to be yelling to the world about all my ailments when I'm 93. I don't need them yelling back at me that I can't drive the car anymore. It might be best if I continue to observe others who are caring for loved ones, and I can learn from them what I should, or should not be doing. In the mean time, I have learned to walk in front of Uncle Huey and his run away walker.
Cretia
