Sand-witch generation
Not the good kind
Sometimes I get questions from readers to get a witchy take on. Today’s came via a comment discussion (all the more reason to become a paid subscriber).
Q: I am really struggling to find a way to be patient and gracious with everyone while sandwiched in between the competing needs of my elderly, now-very-hearing-impaired mother and my toddler. I find I sort of have to parent my mother, who seems to need my opinion about everything before she does it these days, as well as my toddler, who constantly needs all my attention, even when he doesn’t actually, and when I lose my cool I upset everyone and then feel awful and guilty.
My mom just wants to be involved and be helpful, and my kid just wants to be around me because he loves me... but when we’re all under one roof I keep losing my temper with both of them because everyone always needs a thing right now and no one will give me space to just do the thing. And then I feel awful because I’ve raised my voice and now my mom is crying and my kid is upset and I’m clearly a monster. And eventually the thing gets done and we all apologize and everything is okay again until the next thing. Except for the guilt that lingers inside me, which seems to be immortal.
I would really, really love to know how women do it without because I simply don’t seem to be able to. How do we deal with the twin needs of a) our formerly badass parents, who are becoming frail and deaf and uncertain, while also b) dealing with the adorable loving OCD weirdos that are our needy children? How do we do it without losing our shit? How do we smooth things over when we do lose our shit? Where do we find patience and grace in the moment to deal with all their needs, and where do we find it when we need it for ourselves, late at night when we’re lying in bed facing the looming specter of our parents’ mortality? A very real thing I think about all the time: what if that time was the last time I see my mom, and I have to spend the rest of my life knowing that I made her cry because I told her that I don’t need her to help me make dinner or put the dishes away?
Oh, friend. I asked some experts, which range from death doulas to friends who have been exactly in this position for their advice. Bad news if you are looking for tips on how to totally rock this stage of life, but lots of support and advice incoming:
From Chicago death doula Erica Reid Gerdes:
“I want to tell this writer that NO ONE successfully does it and there is NO ONE WAY to do it and NO ONE feels like they are doing a good job with it. ‘Cause it’s fucking hard but no one talks about it in society (we doulas are trying to change this), and people feel shame but the truth is it is literally impossible. So the priority has to become putting small things for yourself first: whatever it may be, and trying your best to not feel like it’s selfish (which is nearly impossible.)
If this person doesn’t have a good support group to lean on, and right now especially so few of us do as we are all just trying to get through each day, there are definitely online communities of folks who are or have been in the same boat that they can connect with for support. There are also more and more “full spectrum” doulas, who can offer some respite care on either the child side (toddlers are still considered in the postpartum doula spectrum) or the parents care side, or just someone who can come in and let you take a nap or hide in the bathroom for a half hour. But if you are doing it at all, please know that you are succeeding and doing it right.”
From Kitty Eisele, Washington DC-based host and creator of “Twenty-Four Seven: a Podcast about Caregiving” (which just recently launched its second season with Patti Davis, daughter of Ronald Reagan)
This woman needs to give herself permission to make other people unhappy. I think I have turned into a pretzel and damaged my health trying to pretend everything was normal and police other people’s emotional states.
I don’t want this woman to feel guilty. I want her guilt to go away. Yeah, she snaps, it’s human. Some of us come from families in which we don’t bicker, snap or argue, it’s all stuffed down—it was in my family. You don’t raise your voice. When you do, the response is hurt, so the writer feels like she’s a monster. Would her husband? I doubt it. He might snap but I don’t think he’d feel guilty. I think women, over millennia (and hormones) are shaped and baked to give multiple people attention.
Maybe her mom is hurt and wounded and that could be a function of age: suddenly she’s much more needy. It might be a nice thing if the writer can make some time just to be with her mom and have that conversation, in a nice way: “Let’s get our nails done,” or “I want to have lunch,” and then say, “Here’s the deal; I’m feeling overwhelmed. I know you did this so much better than I did when we were kids. I may snap at you but it’s because I want to make sure I take good care of you and I can’t. I can’t be pulled in these situations at once. If I snap at you it’s about the situation; I can’t have you feeling wounded.”
If her mom has any more anxiety about being alone, then it’s worth getting it on the table. “Mom, I’m noticing you need more hand-holding and I’m happy to do that but I’m a little overwhelmed. You seem like you’re more anxious. You should talk to the doctor about that, and maybe I can go to the doctor with you.” Her mom might bat her away but she might realize, “You’re showing care for me, It’s not manipulative, it’s kind.” You can say, “If anything happens to you know I know who your doctor is and what meds you’re on. Getting old can be harder. I want to be there to help you.” Maybe ask her mom, “Did you take care of your parents, ever?”
The conversation with mom might be, “I really want to be here with you. A couple ways I’ve learned I can do that is to make sure you have somebody who can make sure you’re in a good place if COVID struck and have the access to take care of your finances if I have to. I don’t want to mess with your bank account. Would you be willing to sign a power of attorney? Somebody needs to.” And then “Hey mom, how would you feel if I went to the doc with you so I have a good baseline of how you’re doing? If anything happened to you I want to make sure I can tell anybody any meds you take, or any symptoms, I want to do that as your friend, not your daughter.” Meds for anxiety/depression might help a little bit.
When the writer says, “What if I see my mom the last time, I made her cry?” You had an entire lifetime with your mom. The fact that your mom can lean on you and is coming to you with a lot of needy stuff means you’ve given your mom a great deal of love. It may be the last thing you say to her is a hard nasty thing because you were in a bad mood but really, is that the sum of your relationship with your mom? Of course not.
One thing to come to terms with is that parents will leave us. It’s crappy. It’s the nature of life that I hate. It’s a bad design. If your mom is coming to her with that much need for reinsurance, she’s made a huge impact on her mom already that she’s a very wonderful daughter and trustworthy and reliable and affectionate.
Realizing you are now the grown up is a weird part of nature but it’s how it works. It’s OK to take it like it’s a key that’s been handed to you. You’re in bigger shoes than what you’re used to. Your parent is now smaller. It’s really sad, it’s hard, and it’s very deeply human.
One of the kindest things you can do it is keep that relationship going. But you don’t have to be there 24/7 for your mom. “Let’s do Sunday dinner every week, we as a family will have time together.” It might reassure her. I hope you can let yourself not feel guilty. I think there has to be a little letting it settle that parents do die and that can happen after becoming unlike themselves.”
From Kelly Fabiano, a California-based death doula, life coach for moms and mother of two:
“I identified with so much of what this reader said. I can just feel the overwhelm and the tug of war she’s experiencing. Life and death are two sides of the same coin.
She’s in good company when it comes to raising her voice or even screaming or yelling at her kids. Sometimes we say “raising our voice” to temper down what we really did. I don’t know a mom who hasn’t. I don’t know that I want to know a mom who hasn’t. They’re not human. We’re allowed to be human.
I want her to realize she’s doing a huge service to her child and to her mother because she mentioned in her email that she apologizes and comes back and repairs that. Repairing after a blowup or losing your temper, that’s so huge for a child because your child is learning that it’s OK to be a human. We’re not perfect. My mom screamed and yelled. There was no repair after that; we couldn’t talk about it. The reader coming back to her little one and her mom and saying “I’m sorry I lost my cool” is huge. I doubt she’s giving herself credit but I would love for her to. It’s not an easy thing to do and it’s really modeling great behavior for her child.
How do we do it without losing our shit? We can’t. I’m hearing a lot of “My mom’s going through this; my child needs this.’ There’s no self in here. You can’t be everything to everybody. That’s cliche but true. You can build up your level of resiliency by taking time for yourself, honoring your needs and desires, to honor your needs and reconnect with the version of you that existed before you were a mom.
For the death piece of this: I think working with an end-of-life doula might be helpful. You don’t have to be dying to explore what death means to you and I think, it sounds like what a lot she’s going through with her mother is that anticipatory grief, what’s going to happen when she’s gone.
When I’m working with people that are interested in exploring what a “good death” means to them, we have this good death plan we go through. Who do I want around me, what do I want around me, what do I want the environment to look like? Going through the Going with Grace Program helped me to accept that death is a part of life and it also helped to make empowered choices. There are conversations she can have with her mom if that’s comfortable for her. I think avoiding it, not having conversations, it just gets so much bigger in our heads. I don’t think it’s ever anything we fully understand because you only go through it once and you can’t report back.
Administrative stuff might help-does her mom have a will, a living trust? Has she made her wishes known? Does she want to have a DNR? It’s a really difficult conversation to have with a parent. My mom’s not comfortable having that conversation and I respect that, it’s her death and her life. But if there is some room for discussion, I would highly encourage that.
Anticipating something doesn’t make it less comfortable in the end. We don’t get a medal for seeing it coming. It’s like heartbreak.
Keep top of mind what you want from that relationship with your parents during this stage. How do I want to show up? What do I need during this? What do I need to know I did, didn’t do, experience, didn’t experience? Set yourself up to have your needs met. It’s their decline/death but it’s also yours. Honoring that grief and honoring your needs is important.”
And from some additional witches who have been there:
“I think she should know she’s not alone and there are a ton of us in this generation with younger kids and aging parents at once. I know this doesn’t work in every family and situation but whenever I read something like this I find myself mouthing the words ‘SAY IT’ (to the person) so that’s why I am commenting. I don’t think any of us should be expected to or should expect ourselves to master these hard situations, but we can clarify our behavior by being honest about our struggle so the people around us can be more aware of where we hit snags and help de-escalate. ‘I feel so bad when I yell at everyone but I’m feeling so overwhelmed right now trying to manage everyone’s needs…’”
*
“It’s hard to be responsible for so much. When you’re tired, have no time for yourself, can’t remember the last time you shared a belly laugh with an adult, etc. it REALLY drains on you. I think this person might feel more like herself and less agitated / prone to (understandable) outbursts if she finds a window of time to be herself every week. Maybe not every day, but it would help her situation. She has to find a way to regain some control over her life. They’re taking every ounce of energy she has!”
*
“Has her mom visited an audiologist or speech-language pathologist? An AudD can figure out if her mom could use hearing aids or similar, and an SLP might be able to help them come up with more effective communication strategies that might bolster her mom’s confidence and make constant shouting check-ins less necessary.”
*
“It’s a while since I was there, but realizing that more than anything my mum wanted *time* was key for me. It would get on my nerves to have her hovering all the time, but remembering that it gave her immense delight helped me tolerate it. Can you fob grandmother and toddler off on one another at least some of the time? Also the end of life is a momentous time which makes every mundane decision seem immensely important. Like the aunt who used to visit us during downsizing from house to assisted-living with treasures she didn’t know what to do with, that I ‘might like to have.’ I eventually realized it was best for both of us if I just said yes to everything and then kept/thrifted/tossed as I saw fit.”
*
“I don’t know how anyone does anything these days. That’s all I can tell her: she is not alone; she is not missing some step.”
*
“Buspar has greatly helped me with the guilt. It allows me to see what are other people’s problems instead of internalizing everything as my problem. And commiserating with siblings and friends in the same-sandwich-of-life-stages squeeze. But also, fuck, this is hard. My kids aren’t as little and needy, I’m not alone to figure it out, and my mom isn’t deteriorated to the point of needing to live with someone. I love that she describes her mom as formerly badass, and I feel the same about my mom. I think it’s extra hard because the anxiety around making denouement decisions is overwhelming to her, and thereby to us. I have no great advice, but great appreciation to her for so eloquently elaborating on what is our shared experience.”
End credits
Thank you for reading Evil Witches, a newsletter for people who happen to be mothers. If you have topics you’d like to suggest or questions for me to try to crowdsource/research for you please let me know — you can reply right to this email. We live here on Twitter if you ever want to give us a mention or RT.
If you want to dip into the archives they live here. If you want a random spin, here’s a piece on things pandemic parent grandparents ought to try saying, here’s me talking about no longer being a facial filler virgin (still no regrets!) and here is an issue on the ways witches grab down time (and the science behind why you should.)
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P.S. Reader Ashley Summers asked me if I’d mention the cute print-at-home school Valentines she designs and sells and I said of course which made me think it would be fun to try a Witches classifieds issue. If you have a small business, product, event, charity, skill, book or something else for hire/sale/donation you think witch readers might be in the market for that will still be available throughout the month of February, shoot me an email.
One witchy thing
Hey, Claire,
Thank you for this carefully considered and thoughtful collection of responses. As much as I appreciated them, I wanted to share something that came up for me that wasn't addressed: the assumption that they have a functioning, non-toxic, non-abusive relationship.
What I'm interested in talking about and holding space... somewhere?... is for is for those of us who care about and care for parents who abused us growing up, or were toxic/enmeshed/narcissistic.
My sense, in reading what's "out there" about caregiving for our elders, is that a lot of it is written to support caregivers who have had, baseline, anywhere from a decent to great relationship with their now-aging parents.
This kind of advice given to caregivers often assumes that if only the caregiver takes the right approach, that elders can "be reasonable."
But if you care for elders who are NOT reasonable because they are not in good working order emotionally (and I'm not talking about age-related cognitive decline or dementia, which is its own set of issues) , then you have a whole host of issues that can't be solved with this kind of advice. And I don't see a space even within podcasts and communities about caregiving where that conversation is being had.
For example, Kitty's advice : "If her mom has any more anxiety about being alone, then it’s worth getting it on the table. “Mom, I’m noticing you need more hand-holding and I’m happy to do that ... Her mom might bat her away but she might realize, “You’re showing care for me, It’s not manipulative, it’s kind.”
This is totally appropriate advice for some people, but if you've had a life-long dysfunctional, toxic relationship with the person you're caring for... this won't work. In fact, opening up a conversation this way is kind of like the adult child/caregiver walking straight into a buzzsaw. Ask me how I know.
So, what I'm saying is that there are adult children out here taking care of parents who have childhood abuse and toxicity and dysfunction in our pasts, and in conversations about caregiving for our aging parents, it's really not addressed. It's all lumped in as one type of caregiving.
Are there spaces where people support each other specifically through the experience of taking care of toxic (for lack of a better word) elders? Maybe I just don't know about them.