Caring for my father during his decline was a difficult experience. I was forced to discover truths about my parents, the aging process, and myself that were sometimes surprising and frequently uncomfortable. My son learned valuable lessons about people, but was exposed to a lot of things that I'd have preferred not to expose him to. Looking back, it seems that managing these situations requires a skill set that’s a cross between those of a nurse, a butler, and a Buddhist monk.
And because everyone’s situation is different, giving advice to people who are taking care of aging parents is tricky; no one-size-fits-all solutions exist for these situations. But I will say this: without a supportive partner, wife, husband, sibling, or friend, caring for an elderly parent is an exponentially more difficult experience. You need someone to talk things out with who can help you make sense of the situation. Making decisions for another human being, let alone your parents, is one of the most difficult things you can do, and I personally think that the people who have to go it alone have an even harder time.
Ellie didn’t have a sensitive bone in his body, and though I had love for him as a father, I can’t say that I ever really liked him as a person. But that had nothing to do with the reasons why I, to the best of my ability, took care of him. I did it not only because he was my father and had taken good care of me at the beginning of my life (a good reason in and of itself), but also because I wanted to set a positive example for my son about the importance of giving to, and taking care of, other people.
And it was, without a doubt, the right thing to do...
No comments:
Post a Comment