The Sandwich Generation, and I'm Not Talking About Lunch

I generally write about how I have enjoyed getting older and becoming more comfortable in my own skin.  I acknowledge that many things about aging benefit my mental and emotion well-being, and so far I have enjoyed growing up, so to speak. One thing, however, does not make me feel good about aging and that comprises watching those older than me get even older, especially those I love.  There is nothing fun about this, nothing comfortable or easy about it whatsoever.  In fact, it can be quite painful to watch.

We all have an idea of what age we are on the inside, the age we feel. For instance, I think I shall be permanently twenty-seven.  I always liked that age. By the same token, I think we see our parents at a certain age as well....kind of static and unchanging.  Then one day, you wake up  and for one reason or another, you realize your parents somehow got old overnight. Yesterday, vibrant and healthy...today frail and elderly.  That realization, for lack of a better term, sucks.

Almost seven years ago my mother died suddenly of a heart attack at age 64.  She lived fully until the moment she died, and I never had to see her grow sick, frail, or weak.  I miss her every day and wish constantly that I had more time with her, but I also recognize the fact that she will permanently reside in my mind as the lively, exuberant woman I knew. That is a blessing.  My father had a massive stroke one month after my mother died, and while he recovered well and currently lives independently, I have had to watch him struggle with medical issues, getting less mobile, and becoming weaker as time passes.  I am grateful every day that he is here, but trust me, it's a hard thing to see.

Most days I deal with his aging and all its accompanying trials and tribulations rather well.  I am optimistic and full of gratitude that I get to spend time with him for as long as I can.  Other days, however, I feel an impending loss that I don't know if I am ready to handle. I remember my mother, the day her father died, crying and saying, "Don't leave me, Daddy...I don't want to be an orphan."  She was 54 years old, had adult children herself, and it is only now, when my father's health becomes more compromised every day that I truly understand what she meant.  I don't want to be an orphan either.

 I am at the age where I fall into the category of the "sandwich" generation.  I am raising children and taking care of my father as well.  I am having to learn how to deal tactfully with some role reversal in my relationship with my dad due to my increasing responsibility for his welfare.  Because I parent young children, I have to be careful not treat my dad in the same manner I do my kids.  I walk that fine line between respecting his wishes and ensuring his well-being.  It is a very narrow line and sometimes I make a misstep which results in offending him or not meeting his needs well enough.  It is a hard line to walk most days and I constantly question whether or not I am doing the right thing.  I have a tendency to feel guilty on a regular basis for my failings in this...not doing enough, doing too much, doing the wrong thing.  I constantly remind myself that I can only do what I can do, and most times this reminder helps me put things into perspective.

I had a friend tell me once, "Life is never fair, sometimes difficult, but always beautiful." I wholeheartedly agree with this statement, and it puts perspective on this situation as well.  We all face challenges in our lives, at every stage of our lives. This is but another challenge specific to my particular age...managing children and parents at the same time.  Each day I shall be grateful that I have the opportunity for this particular challenge, because it means that I have one more day with my father to learn from him, to share with him, and to love him. And even though life is never fair, and watching someone age is sometimes difficult, the relationship and the love is always beautiful.