Jimmie, my colleague, asked why I needed to yell at my father on my mother’s behalf. I explained to her that I always had to yell because my father’s hearing was so bad.
“No, that’s not what I meant. Why do you have to say anything at all? So what if he has a cookie?”
“His sugar level goes through the roof.”
“So what if his sugar level goes through the roof?”
I was honestly mystified. What was she saying?
“He’s not going to live forever, you know. So what if his sugar level goes up?”
There, she said it. It still took a while for me to understand. She told me the joke about the old guy who went to the doctor and asked what he could do to live longer. The doc said, “Well, you can give up alcohol, smoking, and women. You may not live longer, but it will SEEM longer.”
What she was pointing out was my own bias; I assumed the best thing for my father was as much quantity of life as possible, and that I needed to use my authority with him to keep him in line to do the healthier thing. It suddenly occurred to me that I should be thinking less about his sugar count and more about his quality of life. And, besides, what did I really have control over when it came to my parents’ lives? More important, what should I have control over? I started asking questions I didn’t like the answer to.
Like, what was he doing all day.
Excellent and thought-provoking piece for all of ua with aging parents. Click on the link at the bottom to access the full article. An excerpt: