One of the hardest parts of caregiving for me is that I don't mentally connect with my mother. I don't know how much is me and how much is her, but I've never been able to get a relationship going with her. Sometimes I think that maybe I'm going to spend time and talk with her or maybe watch some TV together. It never works out that way. Pretty soon I pull away and go about my tasks. She doesn't seem to want me around and is not very nice to talk to.
Sometimes she'll be doing things and I ask her if she wants some help. She says no. She doesn't want anyone to touch her when she walks. If I get too close to her, she stops moving and says I'm in the way. She doesn't see well, so likes to have a big area around her walker to navigate.
I have a feeling that most of this isn't my fault. It does make caregiving empty feeling, though. Mostly I feel like a visitor in the house that does all the tasks of keeping the house together. I don't feel like a daughter. I think caregiving would be a lot more rewarding if I could find a way to connect with my mother.
I agree it would be much better for both of you if a warm relationship could be established, but it seems as if that may only have occurred between your parents, if at all. They may both have been emotionally distant people.
Are you an only child? If you have siblings, do they experience the same distance that your mother seems to establish, like a barbed wire fence around her emotions keeping everyone out?
Do you have any aunts and uncles with whom you could bond, or who might shed insight into your parents' earlier relationship? You know, and I don't write this to be critical but rather possibly insightful, that your parents may not have been enthusiastic about having children because of financial constraints, or other reasons. If so, your mother may still harbor some resentment. You're the innocent party here.
I could understand a relationship such as CWillie describes; I think as old age begins demonstrating its control and we begin to decline, eventually there's some point at which confidence, hope and enthusiasm begin to be replaced by resignation and sometimes despair.
The RLTV shows periodically features older people who've challenged the typical restrictions of old age. Some of these people go skydiving, learn new challenges, etc. They're inspirational, but I know that not everyone has that confidence.
I also think that military experience is a foundation for exploring new boundaries at any age - there's a confidence that nonmilitary people may never have had the opportunity to develop.
All her siblings are dead now. My favorite aunt left me a gift from the grave. She told my cousin to let me know it wasn't me, that my mother had always been a difficult person. How she was difficult, I don't know. She spoke of how close her family had been, but I never saw that closeness. I suspect that it was imaginary. Things in her childhood family and her marriage were idealized and perfect. Things with her own children were distant and cold. My father didn't have anything to do with the family. He and my mother may have been close, but they never showed any affection to each other. My mother always thought that hugging and things like that should be left to the bedroom.
It has always been a walking on eggshells type house, but I guess it is beyond the scope of the current situation. I just wish I could feel closer to her now. I think it would make life better... at least for me.
From what I've read of your posts, you're very intelligent, experienced, perceptive and insightful. It may be that your mother has some issues which you'll never discover, and perhaps it's time to accept that and find companionship elsewhere. I don't mean to be critical or judgmental, but it does sound as if your mother isn't a cooperative or social person and that's not going to change. Perhaps you can look to companionship elsewhere.
Two of the most exciting activities I participated in after my sister died were (a) the Jane Austen Society of North America and the (b) Assn. of American of University Women. Both were discussion groups, both were inspirational and social.
At the JASNA group meetings, we always discussed some aspect of Austen's novels, whether characters, academic analyses, social issues, etc. There was so much discussion that sometimes we stumbled over each other trying to respond!
Then we had treats afterward. Despite their high sugar content, the treats were definitely a very relaxed and social way to end the meeting.
The AAUW group was also composed of a variety of women with a variety of backgrounds. At one meeting we discussed very interesting foreign relations topics. These were well read women, with intelligent and insightful perspectives.
I always left any of those meetings with a real academic high, and not just from the sugary food either. The discussions were so inspiring. I felt really ALIVE!
Something like those kinds of groups couLD provide some counteraction to the atmosphere at home.
And of course I've just thought of another suggestion: start your own group, whether it's reading, gardening, knitting, crochet, crafts, or perhaps better yet - start a caregiving group to connect with others of similar situations in your area.
"Things in her childhood family and her marriage were idealized and perfect. Things with her own children were distant and cold. My father didn't have anything to do with the family. He and my mother may have been close, but they never showed any affection to each other. My mother always thought that hugging and things like that should be left to the bedroom."
And there you have it - they weren't emotional people, they were distant, and that's your mother's nature. Unfortunately, it won't change.
In your next post, I want to hear about your plans for a new life, FOR YOU! You go, Girl, GO! Use that compassion and insightful analysis you have to connect with others and get some joy out of life before it's too late.
I gave up the attempt at getting closer somewhere in the middle of Lawrence Welk. I just can't stand that show, but she loves it.
I moved down to Florida when my mother started needing help. I thought she should have a family member close by in case of an emergency (my two sisters were two hours away from Mom but there had never been a close relationship with either one) and I wanted to take over those household tasks that were unsafe for her with her balance problems, like changing the batteries in the smoke detectors. I quickly learned that my caregiving plan was not her caregiving plan. Her attitude was "Good, I've got you here, now I want you to do A, B, C, X, Y and Z." Including some stuff she could do herself, stuff she could figure out how to do herself, stuff she didn't really need, etc. etc. For example, she wanted me to come by daily to take out her garbage and walk her dog, which were things I never contemplated doing or offered to do. That's the key point. I wanted to do what I offered to do out of the goodness of my heart. I didn't want to be seen as an unpaid service provider, at her beck and call for whatever she wanted.
That's the first part. The rest of it is that, due to our close friendship, my mother knew that I had plans for my own retirement, and that I was the last person who'd want to spend years of it stuck in one place (a place where I hate the climate, BTW) doing somebody else's chores. She knows I feel oppressed by this arrangement, she knows I feels trapped. She acknowledges that from time to time, long enough to wish out loud that I felt differently.
So the silence between us is dense and heavy, fraught with unsaid things, unexpressed resentments and hurts. It hurts her that our friendly relationship is gone. But not enough to release me from the prison of caregiving. She thinks if she ignores my feelings they will go away (that's a hold-out from old times - she always thought that way about me). At this point I hate to spend time with her, and wish every day that I could just pick up and leave.
I know that we can become their arms and legs for them. Some people think I should cook my mother's breakfast and do other things for her that she does for herself. It would actually be easy to do these things, but I don't want her to stop doing what she can. These tasks are the things that keep her up and moving.
I often wonder how people can be so different as I sat next to an elderly lady while getting blood work done the other day. She was a little "off" but she was so HAPPY and talked to EVERY person who came through the door but she really latched onto me. As we sat waiting, she was talking to me about her family and how she loved to sing and how she hoped we'd meet again sometime even if it were on the other side. She left me happy but wanting. Why is it that I could connect so deeply with this person and so easily but not with my own MIL. Life is just so tricky some times. I wish there was a handbook to direct me through the rough stuff or just that Happy pill I spoke of above:)
We'd at least have more personalized insight into their feelings and behavior and could understand their lives much better.
And imagine the applications for the medical profession - they could tailor advice to specific behaviors, whereas now it's all observational - once someone is in that state, I'm not sure it's possible to be objective and share feelings and observations in a scientific manner.
karen, I'm one of the lucky people who don't have to be with my mother all the time. I can come and go during the day as I want, so don't really need respite. A vacation in the mountains would be nice, but that will come in time. What you said about letting ourselves off the hook is important. The feeling of guilt from not spending more time with them can hook us, even if they don't want us to spend more time. I imagine that if my mother had a bucket list that "Spend more time with my daughter" would rank somewhere near the very bottom. (Really, it probably wouldn't be on there at all.) Come to think of it, spending more time with my mother may be high on my guilt list, but doesn't appear on my bucket list at all. :)
Now that they are both elderly, don't drive, and have multiple health problems they are reaching out and asking for help. I am ashamed of myself for resting this, at the same time I have compassion for their situation and the way their lives are changing as they age.
A big problem is instead of spending time visiting and talking I find myself spending my visits doing chores, changing lightbulbs, picking up prescriptions, and other time consuming tasks. I have offered to find someone to run errands and help with cleaning and chores but they don't want anyone else in the house. It terrifies me to be responsible for taking my Dad places because he is much larger than me and if he falls I could be hurt too, I am 60 so I am not that young either! And I resent the fact that when I was starting out on my own they gave me very little support or assistance but now have no hesitation asking for help. I am single and my siblings are all married with children and grandchildren so I am usually the go to person since I apparently have no personal life.
Anyway, back to the main topic, their lives have contracted so much that it is hard to find anything to talk about, so much is repeated so many times I have a hard time being polite or its a discussion about neighbors I don't know or TV shows I don't watch. I have begun to dread the phrase "I've probably already told you this!"