What a Letter to My Younger Self Would Say, If I Could Go Back in Time and Talk About Elder Care for Mom

This blog is written in the form of a letter. The letter is fictional, however, it is based on real-life experiences that many family caregivers have had through the years. It is written in the form of a family caregiver, a woman who is now in her 60s, who had spent years taking care of her elderly mother and discovers, long after those needs are over, some of the mistakes and challenges she wished she could’ve avoided or known about from the beginning.

Dear Younger Me,

I wish I could reach across the expense of time and touch you. I wish I could call out across the chasm that extends between me and you, the person I had been so many years ago. But I can’t do those things. All I can do is try to help somebody else avoid some of the mistakes I made from the beginning.

I’m not talking about the beginning of my life but about the beginning of taking care of mom. After the stroke, she needed us. With Dad gone, with Jeremy and his family across the country, she was all we had left.

Even though I was a career-focused woman at this stage in my life, how could I turn my back on her? The stroke left her incapacitated to some degree. She struggled just to hold up a pen to sign her name or use a fork to pierce a vegetable on her plate and bring it to her mouth to eat.

The doctors said she may be able to regain a good portion of her mobility, but it would take time. I didn’t think twice. I took a leave of absence from work. You know, at that point in your life, you would never consider doing such a thing, knowing the kind of impact it would have on your career trajectory, but that’s precisely what we did.

I wish I could tell you that things worked out great and that Mom and I had a stronger relationship in the end because of all the time I devoted to her, but that wasn’t the case. In fact, our relationship only seemed to deteriorate in tempo with her health.

At first, things were straightforward. She needed help getting out of bed. She needed assistance going to the bathroom and taking a shower. She needed someone to prepare her meals, take her to follow doctor’s appointments, physical therapy, and all of the other appointments that seemed to pile on.

By the time it was time for me to return to work, I was so invested in helping her that I quit. I couldn’t really afford it, but with Mom’s and Dad’s savings, the pension, investments, equity in her home, and more, I knew we would manage.

I just didn’t think it was going to be as tough as it was. I didn’t approach this as though it was a job. I guess it was like a young woman stepping into the world of motherhood for the first time, not realizing just how much work it was going to be.

I wish you could take a snapshot of the future, of me I am now, and really absorb the age, the mistakes, the foolish things I thought I could do when I was your age and now realize was never part of my being.

Mostly, though, across this great divide between us, I wish I could tell you about elder care. We weren’t designed for this. We weren’t educated. We weren’t experienced enough. I wish I listened to someone else who told me about elder care, especially in-home care support.

If I had, if I had really sat down and considered what the future would hold, maybe I wouldn’t have the regrets I do now, especially those final things that Mom and I said to one another, not out of love, but out of exhaustion, doubt, anxiety, and frustration.

I wish you didn’t have to make those mistakes I made, but you will. Perhaps someone else reading this, however, won’t.

Sincerely,

Your Older Me

If you or an aging loved one are considering Elder Care in Southampton, NY, call the caring staff at Artful Home Care today at (631) 685-5001