They’re calling it the sandwich generation, since the protagonists of the drama, usually middle-aged or getting close to it, are “sandwiched” between aging parents and growing children. Others like to refer to the phenomenon as the Cluttered Nest Syndrome.
Whatever the terminology, it’s a situation increasingly common in a society where, on the one hand, couples tend to marry at a later age than they did in earlier generations, and on the other, their parents, thanks to medical advances, are living longer. What this means is that more people who still have the privilege and responsibility of caring for minor children, are accepting upon themselves the additional privilege and responsibility of caring for aging parents who no longer find it easy to look after themselves.
Many writers would be inclined to substitute the word burden for privilege and responsibility on either or both sides of the equation. I do believe, though, that the words I have chosen more accurately reflect the attitudes and values of at least the majority of “sandwiched ” folk. And I say this without underestimating the awesome challenges these people face day in and day out.
Indeed, it’s not difficult to understand how caring for a partially or fully incapacitated parent can exact a heavy emotional toll not only on the caregiver herself, but indeed on her entire family.
I’ve just read a moving account of the aftermath of one dedicated mom’s decision to bring her own ailing mother into the home. The stresses and strains that this placed on her relationship with her husband and children were perhaps inevitable. Yet, the way she turned a potentially volatile situation into a positive experience makes for an instructive case study in effective communication as well as in family unity.
Sarah (not her real name), a psychotherapist by profession, convened a meeting of her large family to ask for their blessing to bring her mother with Alzheimer’s disease to stay with them. Some of the children were a little apprehensive, but they all agreed. Probably, they wouldn’t have been so quick to assent had they realized what the intrusion would mean in the days ahead.
As Grandma’s condition gradually worsened, the children became increasingly resentful of how she cling to their Mom more and more, demanding time and attention that had in the past been exclusively theirs. Their father requested that Grandma be fed earlier, so that dinner would once more be the hour of the day when the family could enjoy each other’s company in relaxed fashion.
Meanwhile, the great strain, physical and emotional, of exerting herself to remain faithful to all her responsibilities was exacting its price on Sarah herself. Moreover, a special irony added to her feeling of stress. She was making sacrifices for a mother who, on account of bouts of depression and other emotional issues, had herself not given the support she had needed in her formative years.
Sarah quickly understood that she could not continue in the role of a suffering martyr forever. She called the family together again and shared with them her conflicting feelings, fears and doubts, without holding anything back. She described her physical and mental exhaustion, her frustration that she was spreading herself too thin and her feeling of despair that she was probably not doing right by anyone.
Through being completely open and frank and conceding her helplessness and vulnerability, Sarah was able to enlist the help as well as empathy of her husband and children.
A roster was drawn up and duties were allocated. From now on, each member of the family would contribute to Grandma’s care on a regular basis. Whenever appropriate, Sarah would consult with her husband and children on problematic issues that arose in the course of caring for the patient. And they were not the only ones she confided in. Notwithstanding her own professional qualifications and intellectual sophistication, she didn’t hesitate to seek the unbiased opinions of experienced and well-informed colleagues on such matters as conflicts between her various commitments as wife, mother and daughter.
After Sarah’s mother passed away a couple of years later, Sarah had time at last to sit back and reflect on this most trying period of her whole life. In retrospect, she realized that it had also been a season of great personal achievement. For one thing, nurturing the mother who many decades earlier had failed to provide her with the mothering she had so badly needed, helped, paradoxically, to resolve the lingering issues of Sarah’s childhood and promote a sense of healing.
And what’s more, she had transformed a negative situation that had threatened the stability of the family into a very positive one that imprinted on the children’s minds a certain perspective, and equipped them with practical skills, both of which would be invaluable in their future lives. What had almost tore the family apart had brought it closer together!
Nobody’s pretending that it’s easy, but the challenge is light when compared with the ultimate rewards. The most difficult situations in life provide the opportunity for the greatest growth.
There is a good article in a new magazine that I received recently called Radius. It offers good ideas to prepare for taking care of our parents. It listed documentation that I had not thought about. It can be really stressful taking care of parents, the kids, working, and running a home. I see why they are calling us the Sandwich Generation.