Why Do My Parents Get Angry With Me For Helping?

This is a fantastic piece on a very difficult subject. My sister and I have experienced the anger of both of our parents due to their physical and cognitive decline. The advise that I take away from this article in to not take things so personally, and to show love to one's parents by upholding their dignity and respecting that they  are not your children, but still your parents.

   As my mother's caregiver for the last six (6) years until her death last month, we had many moments of confrontation which I had to learn to adapt to as her illness

progressed.  Mother had vascular dementia and suffered several small, additional T.I.A.s (small strokes) while Iwas taking care of her.  Each took a further toll on her

and each required further adaptatiion or readatation on both of our parts as she tried

to put bits and pieces back together again.  Generally, I found that if I played to her

greatest strength, which was always her sense of humor, ultumitly, we would get it get things back together but I found that I had to stratagize my way through the

walls that were crumbling around her.  When I found myself having to take over her

finances, I tried to make sure that although I fillled out the check, I had her sign it.

That gave her the sense she was still participating in handling her finances and knew

where her money was going.  Likewise, I always make sure she had money so when I

took her to have her hair done she could pull out her wallet even if I had to count out

the money for her.  She always had her credit card but I had a duplicate, with her per-

mission, from the credit card company so when we went out if she couldn't find hers, I could always have my duplicate handy and tell her that, indeed, she was "picking up

the tab."  If she got very confrontive with me, usually with a snide,"So you're the ex-

pert now," comment I would just reply, "Well, of the two of us in the room, I guess I am.  You, however are the expert in the family history."  If that didn't work, and I knew I was getting very close to losing it myself, I would just say some thing like

"issue closed" or "were not going to talk about this any more right now" or some times

just leave the room.

   I also made it very clear when any of my friends came to visit to introduce them to

my mother as my mother and that I was very proud of her and in no way ashamed of

her illness.  Although I realized that in many ways there had been a role reveral as such there was, in fact, none.  She was still my mother.  Even when I was finally able

to get her to wear Depends and was quite horrified about it, I was able to tell her with

great honesty, that I had to wear them occasionally because of having Irritable Bowel

Syndrome so I knew exactly how it felt to wear them but if I hadn't I would had tried

them just to understand what she was experiencing on a comfort/discomfort level.

   Each stage I went through with Mom required adjustment and readjustment which takes its toll, certainly.  But, in the very end, and I am still very much inthe grieving

stages, there is some sense of inner peace that I was there with her, through it all and

that she put up one terrific battle.  When you look back at the little day by day con-

frontations, somehow, now, they don't seem to loom as large.

Sincerely,

MelIce97