Sandwiched between two generations and caring for both, the pickle adds the zest!
I am a Baby Boomer.
Wikipedia defines me as the “demographic cohort” following the Silent Generation and preceding Generation X, born between 1946-1964, during the post-World War II baby boom. Well, I’ve been called a lot of things, but this is a first!
Now that we’ve met, let me add this:
I am now living in the Sandwich Generation, meaning that I am of “middle age”, caring for elderly parents and providing for children not yet on their own. Therefore, “sandwiched” between two generations, and providing for both. According to the New York Times there are 9.3 million Americans in this same situation, with that number expected to increase in the next two decades, as the Baby Boomer population gets older.
The New York Times also surveyed 5000 people, asking them about the “life sacrifices” made by caring for others. I don’t think I like the spin they put on that phrase! How would you answer that question? Yes, I am sacrificing my life!! , or No, the sacrifices are small. Either way, you lose.
This makes me a “sandwiched Baby Boomer”, caring for a mother who cared for me for years. Why do I do that? Honestly, I felt “led” to. Led to be there, led to show up, led to give as much as I could for as long as I could. Led to make my father laugh with funny, exaggerated stories, he laughed until his stomach hurt! Led to shower my mother because she can no longer raise her arms. I was led, and I’m following.
Within my own little sandwich, I chose to be the “zesty pickle”, adding some spice, companionship, love and laughter to the remaining years of my mother’s life.
The opportunity to have my father live with us, did not exist. Severely injured from a fall, he was paralyzed from the neck down for 15 years. I had the desire, the time, basic health care knowledge, but not the physical ability to care for him in my home. I cannot express clearly enough the heartbreak that is for me, still, and always. My only consolation is that I did everything I could to brighten his days, every day, for as long as I could.
I did tell him, first, that I wanted Mom to live with me, and my husband, in our home. She would be loved and cared for, not alone, for the rest of her life. He was pleased, and I know relieved as well. This is a decision I made many years ago, and my husband was in complete agreement, supporting me in a move that has affected and altered both of our lives.
So, if I’m the “pickle”, I guess I’d call my Mister, the “big cheese”. His love, patience and support glues our sandwich together tightly.
Our youngest daughter is still in college, finishing her degree, and she’ll fly on her own very soon. Hopefully, my mother can congratulate her when she graduates.
No one knows how many days or hours they have left in life, theirs or anyone else’s. But we do have the ability to choose how we want to live our lives, how we want to be remembered, how we spend our time and talents, our love and passions.
The days are often long, and I sleep like a rock! Caring for someone with disintegrating health is physically and mentally exhausting. It was expected, I’m not complaining.
In my world, there are no “life sacrifices”, only “life services.” I am a caregiver, a wife and mother, and a child well-loved. A life of service is not a new idea, it’s Biblical. I believe our greatest joy in life is found by serving Christ, through caring for and serving those around us.
Though I am often tired, sometimes discouraged, I want you to know that the decision to care for my parents, now my mother, is a decision that I would make again if needed.
I told my father, “I know it won’t be easy, I expect it to be hard; I can do hard. I’m in it for the long haul.”
I meant it.
He knew it.
I want you to know, should you ever get the chance to care for an aging or ill parent, do it. You will never regret the time spent with them. You are sharing “some” of yourself, they are sharing ALL they have left.
A thought to consider.
Love and Blessings,
Beth
