Elder Care Blues - Is it a Book?

You tell me. Mid to late baby boomers are feeling it. Even some on the boomer fringe.

Aging parents. How do we cope? And, do we want to read about it? They're intrusive. They encroach on our precious baby boomer time. They move us from the centers of our universe begrudgingly to the center of theirs.

We don't like that much.

We're all about peace, love and understanding but we're cantankerous in their presence. Sure, they are too. But, hell, they're old. They ache. Their freedom is caving in on them. Their peace is a pill, an early bird special or, if they're lucky, a good book.

Some mornings we whine about a touch of tendonitis, but constant pain is where they live. Should we drug 'em? Put them out of OUR misery?

Although caring for elders is nothing new, WE didn't sign up for this. After all, we are the generation of the entitled. The me, myself and I individuals with a capital "I".

I just returned from putting my 83 year old mother in the hospital for the umpteenth time and I still wonder which emotion is stronger, my compassion or my resentment. For me, it's a somewhat exaggerated event, as my mother has a lifelong medical history of real and possibly made up maladies.

But, her creaking knees and swelling calves are real. The pain in her face when she stands is excruciating to watch. She cries. She's tired of being in pain.

All I know is that I arrived at the hospital angry and left sad.

How much do we give? When is it appropriate to turn them over to an aide? Four hours a day? Every day? Or maybe every other - or never?

We're already jugglers of too many activities, too many commitments, and too many hours at work. Most of us have families.

Do we opt for moving them into our homes or shuffle them off to an out of sight, out of mind assisted living facility?

We can visit once a week. Maybe twice. Take them out for dessert.

But, what about them? To what are THEY entitled?

I have such mixed feelings about the proper protocol and how to achieve healthy balance. When we're thrown high speed stimuli on an hourly basis, our attention is already scattered in more places than our brains can manage.

And, then, there's our parents. It's almost as if this responsibility keeps us from going too far afield in our oh so important, modern lives. It forces something primal in us to endure. It reminds us that nurturing is what we humans do. Laterally and inter-generationally.

Our elders matter. I won't get into the place of respect that indigenous people carve for their elders. How far our culture has come from treating them as the wisdom keepers. Shame.

No. I won't do that. But I will ask you if it any of us have time to READ about all this? I mean, in books?

Maybe it's better salon style to spill our guts, vent and share the trials and tribulations of our own caring for our aging parents.

I know I feel better. You?

Feel free visit and write me at: www.helpmewithmybook.com/blog .