They were children of the “Roaring 20’s”, then teenagers of the “Depression”. They were 19 when the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor and World War II ushered them into adulthood. My Mom was a Jersey girl. My Dad was a city boy born and raised in Washington DC. ... 10 years ago, they died within 4 months of each other.
Do your parents or family have anything to do with your sense to “care” or to be a caregiver? The talking heads of psychobabble will certainly charge you money or sell you books to answer such questions.
My Mom was a career RN specializing in psychiatric nursing. My Dad’s career was in the “US intelligence community” retiring as Director of Security for the National Security Agency in 1981. As their first born, they were a loving and interesting team experimenting with parenting.
Retirement years didn’t quite play out as planned. My Mom suffered a stroke (a 1% - 3% chance) in intensive care while recovering from coratid artery surgery to reduce her stroke risk. Rehabilitation did buy her several more years before her abilities and health declined. My father became her home caregiver.
(The beginning of my own spousal home caregiving journey preceded this by a couple years.)
Even though diagnosed with pancreatic cancer almost a half year prior to my Mom’s death, my Dad concealed his death sentence for as long as he could. Praying that he be allowed to live just enough longer than my Mom so that she would not be left alone.
Parents transfer values in a zillion indirect ways than they ever do in well intentioned “talks”.
Two years later my younger brother and only sibling died.
Those were challenging years by themselves. Yet caregiving is a trump card it prevails over anything else that happens.
Juggling spouse caregiving as Patti declined physically and mentally from MS and ‘basically’ single parenting our daughter through the Elementary School years kept me focused on ‘the living’.
Caregivingly Yours, Patrick Leer