I was the in-town caregiver and my elders were all spoiled rotten. They had their wants and needs. They liked things done just so. I went to their home/condo/nursing home each day and did all of the things they wanted done. Plus, of course, they wanted my company.
This is all well and good. However, I had a sister who lived less than 40 miles away. She did her best to make it to town every weekend. Once in a while, two weeks would go by, but that was rare. She usually came in on Sunday. We've joked that we raised our kids in a nursing home, as, since she's 12 years younger than I, she had little ones in tow most of the time. Mine were older, yet their lives totally centered around the needs of elders, as well.
Considering all of this, a semi-smart person would have said to herself, "Gee, my sister is coming in to see the folks today, therefore I should take the day off."
"Not I," said this glutton for punishment. My parents still wanted to see me, and my mom wanted me to get out her clothes and get her ice bucket filled, and all of her other stuff so she could "enjoy" the visit when my sister came. It got to a point, as time went by, that our mother would totally have forgotten my sister's visit by Monday, which was disturbing, but she came in anyway.
My point is this – don't be a martyr. I didn't complain or whine, but I did feel compelled to go and do everything my elders wanted even though I knew my sister would be there, and that should be enough. I was generally exhausted. Our parents may not have had us both, and they may not have had every detail done just as I did it daily, but that was not reason enough for me to not take a day off from the nursing home. Be smarter than I was. Take advantage of respite care, in any form you can get.
If you are part of the sandwich generation, please make it a point to have another "filling" in the sandwich. Make sure you have someone to share the load with you, even if it's just occasionally. Make that sandwich peanut butter and jelly. It's much more interesting and better for all.
Actually, my sister coined the "peanut butter and jelly girls" when I told her I was writing this article. Her phrase made so much sense. I was the peanut butter. I stuck to the job daily and gave it the "nutrition," if you will – the daily protein of attention to detail and availability for emergencies and decisions. My sister was the jelly – the sweetener, without which the sandwich would have been gluey and boring. Beth gave my parents that sweet treat they needed. I should have slipped out on those days and let them just have a jelly sandwich now and then. We'd all have been better off.
For over twenty years author, columnist and speaker Carol Bradley Bursack cared for a neighbor and six elderly family members. Because of this experience, Carol created a portable support group – the book "Minding Our Elders: Caregivers Share Their Personal Stories. Her sites,
www.mindingourelders.com
and
www.mindingoureldersblogs.com
include helpful links and agencies. Carol's column, "Minding Our Elders," runs weekly, she speaks at many caregiver workshops and conferences and has been interviewed by national radio, newspapers and magazines.