The other day, talking to a friend who's helping a parent transition from the family home to a new setting & a different life, it dawned on me that we get no do-overs at such times, so it's essential to proceed with compassionate caution. Caution, so we don't make older friends or family feel unnoticed, unheard, invisible. The compassion is for ourselves, because we need A LOT of it when treading unfamiliar ground, ground that sometimes feels more like quicksand than terra firma.
One reason my own mother did so well was that I slowed down to meet her pace. I remember a time my brother & sister invited her to join them on a trip down to visit my nephew, who lives on the Outer Banks. They were leaving at 10:00 p.m., getting there in plenty of time for breakfast. It was a bit of a shock to realize that neither Peter nor Mim had the slightest idea that what worked well for them was impossible for Mom, who was in her late 80s.
What was a disappointment for Mom & my sibs was an invaluable lesson for me - Peter & Mim weren't insincere in their invitation or even thoughtless about Mom's limitations; it just never dawned on them that advanced age often requires adjustments.
Peter & Mim didn't grasp - as most youngers don't - the importance of slowing down, of showing more caution & consideration in our interactions with oldsters, typically more than we've ever been asked for, even more than with spouses & children. Sometimes, much more. Yet we youngers typically have a hard time recognizing that & an even harder time effectively dealing with it.
Individually & as a society, we tend to focus on securing our older loved ones', friends', clients' physical safety. Have arrangements been made for someone to help with housecleaning, shopping, meds, appointments, companionship? That's important, but doesn't really address an oldster's sense of emotional safety. Whatever our age, if we don't have a secure sense of emotional safety, all the practical precautions in the world won't matter. That's a tough idea for a lot of youngers to grasp.
It cracks me up, hearing friends talk about staging "interventions" with a parent who is resisting necessary changes to their lifestyle. It makes sense to them. Alas, what youngers often take as healthy, direct communication, older loved one can experience as being backed to the wall.
Reality check - what oldsters often need most takes time & patience, something most youngers often feel hard-pressed to offer.
That's where I come in. What's confusing, distressing, frequently downright terrifying to others is familiar terrain to me. The other day, I experienced myself as a guide. Not offering high-falluting advice based on years of study & analysis, just someone who's been there, done that when it comes to navigating shifting landscapes, alien terrain, unforeseeable horizons. Someone who's not only been there, but has spent years & years putting in endless hours of reading & listening, seeing & pondering.
I'm not an author or a public speaker, not a workshop leader or a famous blogger. What I am is available, a flesh & blood person to help face perhaps the most vulnerable part of their life, to help deal with the literally unimaginable.
My strength is in providing someone for them to open up to, putting in my own two cents but leaving the final call to them. Maybe it's as simple as being an instant intimate friend in whom they can confide; a sounding board, engaged yet detached. A blessed other.
Until a couple days ago, hadn't comprehended the worth of that. It's worth a lot.
Thanks, Universe, for all that went before in my life that brought me to this amazing place. Thanks, Earlier Me, for working through whatever & coming out the other side. And to my Present Self - arise, shine, for your light is come.
