I hate when my mother asks me to do things for her. Part of what I hate is the way she asks - she thinks that by prefacing an instruction with "Please" she can turn it into a polite request. It just sounds to me like a politely-phrased order, like she's addressing a member of her staff.
I've been helping her for 5 years and it still ticks me off as much as it did on day 1. From the beginning, my intention was to do for her whatever I was moved to do by caring and concern for her. In other words, it would come from me, from the love and compassion I felt for her.
I soon found out she had a different idea. She doesn't want me to take care of her. She wants to take care of herself with me as her instrument. I hate that.
I have confronted her about this many times, but the truth is she just doesn't get it. She can't grasp the idea that I resent her trying to assert control over me, because in her mind, she is in control and she has every right to be. In her mind, I am there to serve her needs.
It's true that if given my choice I would not do half of what I now do for her. But I'd feel better about doing it, and I'd like her a whole lot more.
Can anyone relate?
But here it is. I think the frustration, annoyance and even sense of being exploited that we experience is part of the fundamental adjustment we have to make as our parent gradually becomes more and more dependent on us. We've spent our lives for good or ill in one type of relationship with this person, and that relationship is changing in a way that is piecemeal, fluctuating and radical all at the same time. Is it any surprise that this process is hard going? And is it our fault if it's rough on us, as well as hard on the person becoming more dependent?
I'm trying to remember how I got past the phase of wanting to throw her sodding breakfast tray across the room. Laying it out perfectly was one - what's the word? - distraction? Sublimation? Where's a psychologist when you need one..? Anyway: doing it perfectly focused me on the task itself rather than on my mother chirruping away like a little baby nestling wanting its worms. Another big thing for me was visualising my mother not as my mother, but as a person who needed help with her activities of daily living. Ironically, I suppose, objectifying her made it easier to detach and treat her with the courtesy and kindness I'd extend to any elder person in need of support who wasn't annoying the bejasus out of me.
But here's another thing. We, as family caregivers, are supposed to do these things for love. And we do: why else would we be there? But then at the same time, because of those huge changes, we're not getting love back: we're getting treated like pretty menial servants. I think that might be the hard part to accept - that the person we love is becoming unable, literally unable, to feed back in whatever way we were used to her doing. Her needs have changed, her abilities are diminishing, it's up to us to supply the deficit. My mother kind of could use her tv remote; but between vascular dementia and her need to feel looked after, in an increasingly infantile way, she also really couldn't.
Now here's the thing. I think, myself, that if you can't supply that deficit, if it's too much, then that's ok. There is no universal law that says an ordinary mortal has to be capable of suppressing her own emotional needs for long enough to get through this part of life - let alone do so with a smile on your face and a song in your heart.
So that means… if you feel that flash of annoyance and resentment when your mother asks you to do something, that's all right. Allow yourself to feel pissed off about it. This is annoying: you are duly annoyed. What matters is whether or not your mother's needs are being taken care of; although by needs, I really mean wants, because there's more to the task than keeping her safe, clean and warm. The job of caring for an elder means, as you put it exactly, being her hands and, later on, her brain. Yes, her utensil. This is not fun or fulfilling - or not unless you're a very special person it isn't - but it is your new relationship with this grown adult that you used to expect more of.
That's the requirement. Whether you can meet it, how graciously you can, what kind of mental state you'll be in after the months and years of dealing with it day in day out… Well, that's the test we're undergoing. But here's the key thing: you don't always, every single day, have to pass it.
My mom cannot see a need for a caregiver 4 hours a day.. well... I spend at least 4 hours every day on their care.. some days much more.
The other day both my Mom and Dad were pondering about what would happen if I was in a car accident and died... and the main gist was.. who would take care of them. In the old days they would not want me to die or get sick because they loved me and I was their daughter.
I miss just being their daughter! Caregiving completely changes that relationship.. it seems.
Thanks for sharing that the "please" doesn't necessarily help. I do feel like a servant to my own father. I have no answers, just thanks to these forums for validating my feelings and situations.
Or my MIL wouldn't ask directly and keep making hints. She used ostomy bags and instead of asking directly "would you check the shelves to be sure I have enough bags?", we would be out at a Dr. appt., or shopping, and she would say "I think someone is taking my ostomy bags", "Do you know how to order supplies for me?" (of course, I always ordered them), etc. several times. After a while I got the message, but learned to play along, make a mental note, and when we got back to her AL and I got her to her room I would ask her whether she had enough and we would look. Sometimes boxes had been tucked behind something in the closet. I wonder who did that?
Years ago the same MIL threw a bit of a temper tantrum at a restaurant and we had to leave, hubby took her out towards the car as I got the waitress' attention and asked for food boxes and paid the bill. I apologized for the fuss and she said, "don't worry about it. My grandmother lives with us and sometimes does the same thing. My mother always says, 'when you are old all you have left is your voice'. "
That is when I started writing in a journal, taking the emotions from my heart and gut and putting them on paper. It helped. Now I blog a bit. That helps too.
Prior to being appointed trustee of her trust, when I finally was at the end of my rope, I could just tell her that I was not putting up with it and she would straighten up.
Now, I'm tied to her and totally under her control and I think the only reason she set up the trust in the first place! She is very manipulative, bossy, and demanding.
She tells her friends when they stop by that unlike she originally thought, I have turned out to be a very good and serving daughter. That I "came through" in the end! Oh brother!
I use to lose my cool with my Dad on the phone any time he wanted me drive somewhere but I just couldn't, he would start saying he would start driving again [he's in his 90's] and that was one huge button with me. Do I regret losing my temper, of course not, I was just being human.
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