"I had joined the sandwich generation: those of us caring for the needs of our aging parents while still raising our children. It is a situation affecting millions of Americans, and the numbers are growing with each baby boomer birthday."

Amy Baker






Been There Blogs – Sandwich Generation
By Amy C. Baker

 

BEEN THERE, DONE THAT
Posted on October 7, 2008

 

One of my best friends is going through the "change." Not only is she having hot flashes and crazy mood swings, but she's also changing from daughter to chief bossy mamma over her own mamma.

 

Ugh. I remember the days. It is tough enough to have three kids, two in high school and one in middle school, but when her mom's dementia began to spiral out of control, my friend began to feel like she's reaching the limit.

 

Of course, since I have walked this sandwich generation road, with all its twists, turns, boulders and moments of peaceful valleys, she turns to me for advice. As I listen to her tell me the latest news on her mom, I am reminded of one of the primary things I tell people in speaking engagements and one of the key points from my book on this subject: You can plan for this season of life, but you cannot script it.

 

My friend's dad died about two years ago somewhat unexpectedly. The hand was forced. Wills were pulled out of dusty files. Discussions were made about directives to physicians and powers of attorney. The path was paved by her father's passing, and many of the legal issues were resolved and put in place.

 

That preparation still does not prepare you for the emotional toll of watching a parent slip into mental nothingness. Having all those "ducks in a row" still does not make it easier to have the same conversation over and over, or answer the same question five times in one day.

 

I encourage my friend to go with the flow – to do what she can and no more, to free herself from the pressure of trying to do it all – especially when her mom does not remember half of what she does. It sounds a bit manipulative, but it is a survival strategy for the caregiver.

 

Walking in some modicum of freedom and not in guilt and shame is a tricky role for the caregiver, especially when children and teens are clamoring for attention too. I frequently reminded myself that my parents were in their final season of life – given their prognosis and physical state, they were literally in their last year (yes, at the same time!). My kids, however, would be with me a long time still. It helped me arrange my priorities.

 

You can make plans, carefully prepare documents and come to agreements with siblings and family members on key decisions. That's the part you can control in this sandwich season. But capable, in-charge women must accept that it's OK to cry "uncle" and to accept how difficult this is.

 

When I realized there was only so much I could control and left the rest up to God, then I was able to more peacefully walk beside my parents on their final path, instead of trying to pull or push them down that difficult road.

 

 

Amy C. Baker is a speaker and the author of Succeed at Work Without Sidetracking Your Faith: 7 Lessons of Career Excellence for Women and Slow Dancing at Death's Door, a personal, practical and inspirational book to help you help your parents through their final stages of life. Learn more at amycbaker.com.

 

To comment on this blog, e-mail blog@pinkmagazine.com and enter "Sandwich Generation" in the subject line.

 

. . . . . . . . . .

 

MOM'S FALLEN AND SHE CAN'T GET UP

Posted on July 24, 2008

 

I was a typical working mom – hair-on-fire busy with lots of people both inside and outside my house relying on me. Then, to top it off, it became completely apparent that my parents could no longer live alone. What to do? Get live-in help for them? Move them closer to me? Move to their city? (Nope, not even an option.)

 

Deciding where my aging parents would live out their days was a huge issue for my family. The days of extended families all living within the same neighborhood are gone. Many of us don't even live in the same state. We were nearly 200 miles from each other. The thought of uprooting my parents from their homestead and moving them to a new city was beyond unsettling. But moving my family with jobs, schools, churches, community activities and so forth was just not the right option.

 

We went through a gradual transition (I write about it extensively in my book, Slow Dancing at Death's Door). We started out with caregivers that came to their home, first a few times a week, eventually daily. When even that was no longer sufficient to manage their increasingly complex care, we decided to move them closer to us.

 

Here is the thought process I went through as we wrestled with the best plan of action. The conclusions reached obviously vary from family to family, but the questions to ask are the same.

 

Is living with you an option? My parents didn't want to live at my house. I had the space for them – a mother-in-law floorplan even – but my house is noisy. It's full of dogs and cats and kids and dust bunnies and a constant parade of parties and events and sheer chaos. It was going to be a big enough transition to leave their quiet, secluded home. The hustle and bustle of our house would have been way too difficult. So we eventually settled on an assisted living facility with stepped-up care. That way, my dad could have his independence while my mom's increasingly difficult care needs could be met as well. And the bonus: It was 10 minutes from my office.

 

Here are some tips for evaluating and selecting a facility when the time comes. It's not too unlike selecting a daycare or preschool.

 

I got referrals from friends and hospice care providers.

 

  • I made unannounced visits to facilities without an appointment. If I was able to waltz in with no questions asked and wander around, then I seriously wondered about security.

  • I talked to the activities director to make sure there were plenty of physical, mental and emotional events to keep dad especially stimulated and on his toes.

  • I had lunch with the staff. Check out the food. It should be healthy and varied with appropriate accommodation for elder needs.

  • I also checked with my local area agency on the aging (search that phrase on the Internet) for resources to help evaluate a new living situation.

  • I checked to see if the facilities I was considering had received any health citations or had any complaints filed with regulatory agencies.

  • I dropped by late at night. Again, this is another good time to find out how the place works when they aren't expecting visitors.

  • I asked about turnover. As I met people, I would find out how long they had been working there. Like in any other business, low turnover is a good sign.

  • Finally, I made sure I understood their emergency policies and procedures.

But it wasn't just about them, though. As your parents age and you begin to think through where they may live if they can no longer care for themselves, you not only need to think about their situation, but also yours as well. I was able to take advantage of family leave for three weeks in order to stay in my parents' home and really get things in order before we transitioned. A supportive employer is a huge advantage. I talked to my managers early and often. I kept them posted on the situation so if an emergency arose and I needed to make a quick trip back home, they were not surprised and could support me accordingly.

 

The "sandwich generation" threw me into the middle of a parenting juggle: parenting my kids and parenting my parents at the same time. With some advance planning, though, and some good investigative work, a tough transition was just a bit smoother.

 

Amy C. Baker is a speaker and the author of Succeed at Work Without Sidetracking Your Faith: 7 Lessons of Career Excellence for Women and Slow Dancing at Death's Door, a personal, practical and inspirational book to help you help your parents through their final stages of life. Learn more at amycbaker.com.

 

To comment on this blog, e-mail blog@pinkmagazine.com and enter "Sandwich Generation" in the subject line.

 

. . . . . . . . . .

 

SURVIVING THE SANDWICH GENERATION
Posted on May 28, 2008

As if I weren't busy enough. I had a stressful corporate job. I had two kids, one in elementary and one in middle school. I had a husband in the midst of a midlife career transition (at least it wasn't a midlife crisis). I had people to see, places to go, things to do, and parents who were becoming more and more frail and cantankerous every day. They lived 183 miles away. And I was an only child.

At the time I wouldn't have used the label, but I certainly felt the squeeze. I had joined the sandwich generation: those of us caring for the needs of our aging parents while still raising our children. It is a situation affecting millions of Americans, and the numbers are growing with each baby boomer birthday.

I waited longer to get married. I waited longer to have children. Now I was seeing the tradeoff as I tried to juggle a family, a marriage, a dream career, a household (did I mention we were in the midst of building a new custom home?) and now this – two aging parents, both with growing health issues and declining cognitive ability. Add into the blend mixed-up medications, and it was a recipe for disaster. Disaster is what I got.

It was a frantic phone call from a family friend: "Your dad's in the hospital. Not sure what's wrong." To make a long and grueling story short, he'd accidentally taken mom's morphine. Not a good thing when you've recently been diagnosed with hepatitis C from a long-ago blood transfusion coupled with cirrhosis from a long-ago love affair with beer.

My next few days were spent away from my husband, kids and job trying to unravel the tangled mess that had become my parents' lives. I already had power of attorney and all the legal authority I needed to intervene. Did I have the emotional wherewithal, though?

After several months and a few more scares, we finally relocated my parents from the home they'd lived in since 1950-something. It took a private ambulance transport and a lot of sedatives to move my mother, who'd recently broken her leg – weakened by spreading cancer and futile chemotherapy. My father sat in the front seat while I drove his van – with Fort Worth, Texas, becoming a memory in the rear-view mirror.

"I can't believe this is happening," he said. It was gut-wrenching. Our three-hour drive to Austin was pretty quiet. I kept mentioning Little League games and kids' birthday parties, trying to get him focused on his soon-to-be expanding role of grandfather, or "Pop," as our kids affectionately called him. 

We had all entered a new season. I called it slow-dancing at death's door. My parents' health was declining. Their needs were increasing. Our kids' need for their mamma wasn't doing anything but getting more complex. And on top of it all, I was trying to be a good wife and loyal corporate soldier.

I survived my stint in the sandwich generation. You can too. But I learned a novel's worth of tough lessons along the way – lessons I hope to share with you in the coming blogs. Please keep reading and, as my faithful Labradors remind me all the time, "wag more … bark less." That philosophy gets you much further with both the young and old and everyone in between.

Amy C. Baker is a professional speaker, consultant and the author of Succeed at Work Without Sidetracking Your Faith – 7 Lessons of Career Excellence for Women and Slow Dancing at Death's Door, a personal, practical and inspirational book for those with aging parents. Learn more at amycbaker.com.


To comment on this blog, e-mail blog@pinkmagazine.com and enter "Sandwich Generation" in the subject line.