End of Year Reflections: Part One -- Parenting Our Parents
This is a bit of a departure from the usual focus of my blog. Some of these thoughts brush up against aspects of sexuality, but not in the usual way you have found them here.
Last week, I found myself talking to some new clients who had entered therapy to reinvigorate the sexual part of their marriage. As she so deftly put it, "I would like to want sex with my husband to match how much I love him."
As we examined important aspects of their lives together that usually have a bearing on this type of change, things like job demands, time spent apart, bedtimes, and the ambiance of their bedroom; I focused on some of the strengths of their circumstances.
They truly like each other. They've been friends since their teens. They respect each other. They both earnestly avoid hurting each other.
Then one other strength of their situation emerged. She had a sister living nearby to whom she could entrust the overnight care of the two children who were still at home. When there are family members nearby who can take the kids while the couple goes away over night, that's a very good sign for a couple looking to restore their sexual connection. (Of course, a sitter can always be hired, but the childcare cost on top of the lodging costs make the trip unaffordable for some.) Many couples find that they can kick off such a change when they can get away for an overnight or weekend. There's often something more exciting and enticing about doing it in somebody else's room. It's a good way to begin again when there's been a "dry spell."
When they had gone, my thoughts turned to my previous week and the siblings in our lives. In fact, all my husband's siblings were in town for the holidays from Maine, New York, and Montana -- no such luck for us with nearby relatives. They had all gathered here because their 82-year old mom (who lives here) has lung cancer and no one knows what next year's holiday season will bring.
As an only child, my family is always present and accounted for -- my 94-year old mom lives here too. So, with our aging mothers and as parents of a five - and an eight-year old, our friends are fond of calling us the "triple-decker sandwich" generation. (Yes, if anyone is doing the math, we are late breeders on my side of the family.)
Then my thoughts wandered to my mom, who had managed to have a really bad week. She was diagnosed with pneumonia on Monday and on Thursday had fallen either because of a heart attack or in falling caused a heart attack. The fall had left her with two contusions on her head and a very bruised neck, but miraculously, no broken bones. We spent the customary nine hours in the ER and got her admitted to the hospital by 5 am. Friday morning. Did I forget to mention that she has Alzheimer's?
Then, lots of tests, trying to figure out what all had happened and what more was to come. I learned that my mom's heart was pumping at only 25% ejection fraction -- not good. I asked the hospitalist physician whether I needed to be investigating hospice care for her. He agreed that I should look into it and made the referral.
The hospice nurse came the next day to evaluate my mom. Long story made short, though the doctor did recommend it, my mother did not qualify for hospice with the group that evaluated her. Her ejection fraction needed to be 20%! Since this was a federal program funded by Medicare, I assumed that the hospice issue was closed. My mother was just not close enough to death's door.
The next day, my mom seemed worse. The pneumonia did not seem to be clearing. So, on Sunday I went to the beautiful cemetery one town over and made arrangements. As the very nice "Family Service Counselor" put it, I should decide about everything on my mother's burial so that when she was no longer "pending," things would be easier at "the time of need." (Every field has its own lexicon!)
Trying to summarize her life with three "emblems" and eight words of my choosing for her gravestone turned out to be much more difficult than I ever thought it would be. Even though she had lived into her mid-nineties, I realized that I wasn't ready for her life to end. Luckily, there were boxes of Kleenex at every stage of the process -- from caskets to funeral services. I eventually wrote: "She was the best mom that she could be." I knew that though my mom had her limitations, she had devoted herself to parenting 100%.
Related Topics:
Technorati Tags: parents, parenting, sandwich generation, holidays, family, sexuality
Last week, I found myself talking to some new clients who had entered therapy to reinvigorate the sexual part of their marriage. As she so deftly put it, "I would like to want sex with my husband to match how much I love him."
As we examined important aspects of their lives together that usually have a bearing on this type of change, things like job demands, time spent apart, bedtimes, and the ambiance of their bedroom; I focused on some of the strengths of their circumstances.
They truly like each other. They've been friends since their teens. They respect each other. They both earnestly avoid hurting each other.
Then one other strength of their situation emerged. She had a sister living nearby to whom she could entrust the overnight care of the two children who were still at home. When there are family members nearby who can take the kids while the couple goes away over night, that's a very good sign for a couple looking to restore their sexual connection. (Of course, a sitter can always be hired, but the childcare cost on top of the lodging costs make the trip unaffordable for some.) Many couples find that they can kick off such a change when they can get away for an overnight or weekend. There's often something more exciting and enticing about doing it in somebody else's room. It's a good way to begin again when there's been a "dry spell."
When they had gone, my thoughts turned to my previous week and the siblings in our lives. In fact, all my husband's siblings were in town for the holidays from Maine, New York, and Montana -- no such luck for us with nearby relatives. They had all gathered here because their 82-year old mom (who lives here) has lung cancer and no one knows what next year's holiday season will bring.
As an only child, my family is always present and accounted for -- my 94-year old mom lives here too. So, with our aging mothers and as parents of a five - and an eight-year old, our friends are fond of calling us the "triple-decker sandwich" generation. (Yes, if anyone is doing the math, we are late breeders on my side of the family.)
Then my thoughts wandered to my mom, who had managed to have a really bad week. She was diagnosed with pneumonia on Monday and on Thursday had fallen either because of a heart attack or in falling caused a heart attack. The fall had left her with two contusions on her head and a very bruised neck, but miraculously, no broken bones. We spent the customary nine hours in the ER and got her admitted to the hospital by 5 am. Friday morning. Did I forget to mention that she has Alzheimer's?
Then, lots of tests, trying to figure out what all had happened and what more was to come. I learned that my mom's heart was pumping at only 25% ejection fraction -- not good. I asked the hospitalist physician whether I needed to be investigating hospice care for her. He agreed that I should look into it and made the referral.
The hospice nurse came the next day to evaluate my mom. Long story made short, though the doctor did recommend it, my mother did not qualify for hospice with the group that evaluated her. Her ejection fraction needed to be 20%! Since this was a federal program funded by Medicare, I assumed that the hospice issue was closed. My mother was just not close enough to death's door.
The next day, my mom seemed worse. The pneumonia did not seem to be clearing. So, on Sunday I went to the beautiful cemetery one town over and made arrangements. As the very nice "Family Service Counselor" put it, I should decide about everything on my mother's burial so that when she was no longer "pending," things would be easier at "the time of need." (Every field has its own lexicon!)
Trying to summarize her life with three "emblems" and eight words of my choosing for her gravestone turned out to be much more difficult than I ever thought it would be. Even though she had lived into her mid-nineties, I realized that I wasn't ready for her life to end. Luckily, there were boxes of Kleenex at every stage of the process -- from caskets to funeral services. I eventually wrote: "She was the best mom that she could be." I knew that though my mom had her limitations, she had devoted herself to parenting 100%.
Related Topics:
Technorati Tags: parents, parenting, sandwich generation, holidays, family, sexuality



