When It’s Time for “The Talk”

“Mom, we need to talk.”

The three siblings together with their spouses shifted their chairs, coughed, and silenced. Mother, lingering at the counter, ignored them and continued to pour her coffee. She hoped none of them saw her spill it on her hand. She winced, more from the quiet than the pain.

When she shuffled to her chair at the head of the table, her oldest son spoke. “Mom, we need to talk. It’s not often we can all gather like this, and we need you to listen to us.”

She sipped her coffee, squeezing her toes in her slippers and trying to brace for the world-slipping-away-from-her she sensed coming.

“We’re concerned about you. Things need to change--”

“NO.”

She wondered how it had come to this, these three kids she loved more than life, these she’d fed and diapered and sent out into the world...who died and made them president? She glared at them and didn’t miss the eye rolls.

“Mom, you can’t stay here. And we need your car keys.”

{Let’s hit pause just before the explosion.}

In my role as care provider, I’ve been there at the table during many meetings like this. I remember one time, a dear lady we’ll call Margie, invited me to step into the next room to show me something. The two of us left her children in the kitchen and she shuffled me out of earshot.

“This is my house. This is my life. They can’t tell me what to do.”

She stopped and searched my face. I nodded.

“You’re right.”

She glanced back toward the kitchen. “Really?”

“Yes,” I said. “You don’t have to do any of what they’re saying. This is your choice.”

She took a breath and nodded.

“But for your kids’ sake, we need to listen to them and let them say what they need to say. Then after they leave, you and I will decide what you will actually want to do moving forward.”

“But it’s my decision.”

“Absolutely. It must be your decision.”

“Good.”

And we rejoined the family, allowed them all to voice their concerns, and the confrontation came to a friendly conclusion. She did make her decision, but not as a voiceless invalid with no say of her own. She was still a responsible mother, choosing to make changes out of regard for her worried children.

When seasons of life change, it’s absolutely crucial to remember that relationships can’t invert without damage. Even when children are forced to step into decision-making roles, parents are still due honor.

Every relationship looks different, with varying levels of closeness or distance, but the one constant, honor, must always be present if we want this season to progress without regret.

How to Honor a Parent Through Changing Seasons

1. Explain without demanding.

It’s so easy to know what needs to be done and bulldoze our way to making it happen. Unfortunately, forcing major changes on anyone, especially our parents, can cause permanent damage to their mental stability, their physical health, and to our relationships with them.

Rather than say, “This is how it’s going to be,” a better approach is to explain “What you do is your decision, but we’re concerned for your safety. We need to know you’re okay. Will you help us?”

Of course, due to existing family dynamics, that approach may or may not be effective, so sometimes you need to advance to the next idea…

2. Enlist a mediator.

Many older adults easily shrug off the wise professional opinions of their offspring, unable to see them as anything but “my kids.” That’s when it’s helpful to bring along a professional to act as mediator.

Many times aging parents will agree with me, even when I’m saying all the things they just resisted from their adult children. Hearing it from the neutral mouth of a professional makes difficult news easier to swallow, in the same way older adults with memory loss have an easier time accepting bathing help from a “professional caregiver” than from their own children.

It helps to enlist backup.

3. Listen between the lines.

Many times the things we believe the most strongly are the hardest things to put into words. When a parent defies all logical attempts made to help them, try to understand what they aren’t able to say.

“I feel like you no longer respect me as your parent, and I’m angry.”

“I’m afraid of strangers being around all the time. I want my privacy.”

“I fear that if I give in to you on this, I’ll never again have power over my own body.”

All of these are powerful sentiments. Even though they may not be able to communicate them calmly, they need to be reassured of three important things:

1. You are my parent, and I will honor you as such, come what may.

2. You have the right to refuse anyone being around you. You have a right to privacy.

3. You are in charge of your body. We may try to help you, but ultimately, you are in charge.

Based on my experience, communicating these things to a loved one in need of a transition can go a long way toward ensuring positive outcomes devoid of regret.

What have you learned that you could share? We look forward to hearing your thoughts!

Next time we will continue this conversation, specifically talking about how to help loved ones considering aging in place versus moving to a facility where they will have more community around...