Sandwiched

My recent trip to the US has caused me to take to heart what is known as the “sandwich generation”, i.e. being in one’s 50’s or 60’s and dealing emotionally and/or financially with elderly parents and one’s children.  I have to say that I wasn’t really prepared or had my antennae up, but time is not something which any of us control.

Having lived (2009-12) with a joint family in India, there didn’t seem to be the need for a sandwich generation; because all were already living in the same household.  But this is changing.  However, in the US generations don’t live together, there is more independence; but more adult children seem to be moving home, due, in part to a less than ideal economy, or depend upon their parents for financial support.  As people live longer the sandwich generation also has to help out much more with ageing parents. 

While visiting the US I’ve spent a good deal of time with my parents, who are 85 and 81.  They live independently in their own home in a retirement community, but I’ve come to notice how much more my mom has come to depend on my dad; my father, at 85, being the primary caregiver for mom.  Due to their chosen lifestyle, my only living sibling and her husband split their time between Los Angeles and Europe and I have been living in India and Nepal for the past five years; neither of us being available physically  on a full-time  basis.

During this visit, I’ve also spent a good deal of time with my daughter who is 25, currently going through an emotional roller coaster.  (My son who is 29, lives in an ashram, leading a very spiritual,  “cup overflowing” life as a monk).  One of the reasons for visiting the US was to provide fatherly emotional support to my daughter as she rides the waves of a fairly rough seas. 

It’s tough to see one’s parents, who have been on their own since they were 24 and 20, age.  I went to a baseball game with my dad; as we were walking to the car, and as it was night, I knew that he wasn’t as sure of his steps and he had some shortness of breath.  Physically my mom is a mess; has hearing aids and a walker, diabetic, dealing with innumerable aches and pains.  It isn’t easy.

Being part of the sandwich generation can mean lots of worries.  Yes, I could move my life back to the US, maybe that being the most prudent thing to do.  But at this point, or for that matter any point, does one give up on self-fulfillment?  I can continue to provide emotional and/or any necessary financial support to my daughter, even from Nepal.  Unlike in Nepal, my daughter would not live with me, she has her own life, her own flat and for her, living with either me or her mother, would be a step backwards.  This has nothing to do with loving anybody less but is in line with how people in the US live their lives. 

My parents, on the other hand, have lived independently for 61 years and when either my sister or I visit we provide whatever emotional and physical assistance that we can.  On some level, it might be helpful if one of us changed our lifestyle and lived closer all year round.  Readers of this column might say I’m being selfish, but in fact, this is a great cultural difference. 

My sister and I, in collaboration with my parents, are starting the conversation, about  the available alternatives, e.g. assisted living.  I remember that my mother’s mother was, as the saying goes, “put into a home” but she had little choice.  Possibly involving my parent’s now will be a bit more empowering, letting them decide, with input from my sister and I, what they would like to have happen should either one of them falter even more.  The bigger picture is that of empathy in helping family members to live out their lives with the best quality possible.