Almost three months ago I wrote about the challenges inherent in being a member of the Sandwich Generation, Expat Style.
You know what I mean: being squeezed between children (of whatever age) and parents and elderly family members. Both groups may need you, albeit in very different ways.
It happens to many most of us, and we can find ourselves stretched in terms of time, attention, oversight, money, vacation, emotions and psychic energy.
As is the case with many people, my siblings and I are dealing with both ends of the proverbial generational sandwich.
At the best of times we feel like the ever popular roast beef and cheese with juicy tomato and trendy condiment in between, able to juggle various needs and demands with aplomb.
In the worst of times, we start to question whether we’re serving either piece of bread (let alone both) well.
Are we striking the correct balance?
Making the right choices?
We tend to feel much more like the limp slice of bologna with a day-old wedge of wilted lettuce on top.
It doesn’t matter that one sibling’s kids are pre-to-early teens; the other sibling’s children are in their mid twenties, one with a baby of their own and the other with another on the way, and mine are mid-to-late teens.
The truth is, your children never stop needing you, they merely need you in different ways.
The same can be said of your parents and older family members. It has really hit home recently that we’re kidding ourselves if we think that they don’t need us until they start to deal with mobility, agility or mental acuity issues.
They need us to recognize the value of staying connected, especially when our focus and attention can be turned toward the raising of our children as we navigate our own careers and life paths.
Similarly we need to see that nothing, no matter how cherished or exceptional or important, can take the place of people who know from where you come and still manage to love you. Unconditionally.
When your children are little, they need a large amount of your time and attention. Rather than lament the choices tossed your way, you’ve got to address their needs while embracing your own dreams.
Sometimes that can mean eking out the hours here and there to follow your passion, chase that promotion, enjoy a rejuvenating hobby; sometimes it means merely making it through the days, weeks, years of your life.
As they get older, children need you less for security and fulfillment of basic human needs, but all the more for guidance and helping them fulfill their sense of self-esteem. Choices at three and eight can pale in comparison to the repercussions of choices made at thirteen and eighteen.
I want to make clear that none of this is unique to expat life; it’s part of life, period.
But I will say that living overseas complicates the matter in myriad ways. Flights to relatives can cost considerably more, your support system may be scattered to the winds in their own pilgrimages home or heading off to new assignments, and you’re left scrambling to pull the pieces together to keep daily life flowing along in some semblance of sanity.
I’ve always embraced the concept of never wasting a moment of life on ‘would’ves, should’ves, could’ves.’ That rings as true for the manner in which we choose to spend our resources (e.g., time, energy, money) as it does for how we choose to recognize what’s important.
This summer was always destined to be rather challenging, with Husband and I being pulled various ways as we deal with our own generational sandwich. For us it has meant him staying back in the Netherlands for much of the summer; Son is home from university and experiencing the ins and outs of his first ‘real world’ internship (read employment other than in a summer camp setting).
Daughter and I were planning a fairly complex trip back to the US that would include visiting family and friends along with some initial university visits and a pre-college prep course for her.
Then real life started to intrude, poking its pesky nose into plans that morphed into a longer timeframe, fewer visits, more time with my parents. My book project, already slipped from intended completion in late spring, shifted to June. Then July.
Real life didn’t stop there, it just kept barreling through, full speed ahead.
The cascading news about my father’s growing health issues has raised more concerns, prompting late-night texts, Skype discussions, email conferences and phone call strategy sessions.
Thank you social media venues: damn you, the topics we are forced to cover.
We have experienced the wonderful highs of spending time together, and the crushing news that my father’s cancers are too advanced for surgical remedy. It has been a graphic kick in the gut as we all scramble to adjust plans.
We are all making changes based on desired time in the remaining months: my sister from several states away has found her vacation from a challenging job in a wobbly economy suddenly spent solo with my parents; her husband and daughter will gladly make their own exhausting trek; and my brother and his family are trying to squeeze in a couple trips in the months ahead.
As we help our mother navigate the care choices ahead, and tend to her and my father’s emotional and physical needs, lives are willingly uprooted and rearranged to make the most of remaining time.
Vacation plans are tossed aside as Husband and Son will come back to the US in what is an unexpected trip for the former and an accelerated one for the latter. That I only had a paltry number of weeks with Son this summer weighs heavily on me, but what is the alternative?
Daughter and I are extending our visit and making the necessary calculations: how late can we return and not overly do disservice to the start of her school year?
What of the months ahead?
What of that time?
What then?
We are not the only ones dealing with this sort of familial turbulence; absolutely far from it. Cyber friends Jack and Liam, a talented writer/composer expat duo, recently repatriated for the sake of family. Other friends have shared similar tales.
Still others will face such choices in the future.
These scenes play out in hastily arranged airplane flights, train reservations and automobile treks across the world.
‘At least we have time in which to say goodbye,’ my brother said.
And he is right. Better this than the alternative, despite the overwhelming weight that feels thrust upon us.
A high school friend who has made oncological nursing her life’s work (including a PhD) reached out recently. In our discussions she said something that remains with me.
‘This can be a time of abundant love.’
We don’t know how to do this. No one does, not really. Yet you figure it out fairly quickly.
You do what you can.
You do what you must.
You do your best, even if it doesn’t feel enough.
You are the filler between the two slices of bread, and you pray you do right by them.
[Image credit: Ambro, portfolio 1499, freedigitalphotos.net]
What a summer for you, Linda. I sincerely hope you’re okay.
It’s lovely to see the family coming together in these ways to deal with an incredibly painful scenario. The fact that you’re all as dispersed as you are complicates things, but not unfairly so. Yours has been the right path to take yet it obviously makes things tricky at times like this.
As you rightly say, your situation is less unusual than we might believe. So many families are dispersed in one way or another these days. I suppose you just have to work through it and manage things as best as you can.
I think you’re doing a great job though.
Our thoughts are with you all over the coming days, weeks and months. I hope you take some comfort in continuing to write down what you do on these pages. It’s a pleasure to read such meaningful and honest writing.
Thank you Russell. Focusing on making the most of time, helping my parents and remembering my friend’s comment about ‘a time of abundant love’ helps.
Thank you for sharing this Linda. Your day to day support network may not be right there with you but I’ll bet they are sending every thought/prayer they have for you…as am I.
Take care xx
That really means so much Kym. I’ve been having discussions with Daughter (in a questioning religion period) and explaining how we all tend to take solace and comfort in the thoughts and prayers of others helps. We all go through similar circumstances, and sending/receiving prayers and positive thoughts helps more than you can imagine.
Linda, I am so sorry to hear about your father. My thoughts are with you and your family. Big hug x
This will postpone our face-to-face catch up Carrie, but we’ll definitely do it next month. Thanks for your thoughts
Take as much time as you need, not a problem.
Linda, you and your family are doing a phenomenal job as you juggle lives, plans and jobs and cope with the the huge emotional toll a family crisis like this inevitably brings – to all of you.
You’ve acknowledged that doing your best may not feel enough, but it is all any of us can do. Spending this time with you father, supporting your mom and siblings is the most important gift we can give to each other as family.
Don’t dwell on the time not spent with your son, he and your husband are spending time together in a way they would not be doing under normal circumstances.
Both you and your husband are role models for how your children will learn to cope in the worst of family crises. They are seeing that family comes first, comes together and works together when times are tough. There is no greater lesson we can teach our children – it transcends distance, time zones and generations. It is love.
Hang on in there, prayers and positive thoughts are coming your way. Keep strong.
As always, your words are a balm that calms and uplifts; thank you so much. Perhaps we can arrange to Skype sometime next week.
Oh, my goodness. I recall a summer like this several years ago when my father went into the hospice in England. It became so complicated, with me in Jamaica and my brother all the way in Australia, and both of us with demanding jobs. So I really feel it for you. How did we get through it? As you say, you just do the best you can. But don’t try to beat yourself up and tell yourself you could be doing more. I really felt a lot of guilt after my father died – and then again 18 months later it just multiplied when my mother died very suddenly, in France. Don’t let that weigh you down. You will do your best, and that’s all you can do…
Thank you so much Emma for sharing your own situation, I really appreciate it. It must have been so difficult with both siblings away; it certainly adds to the stress and logistics. You’re absolutely right that we do the very best we can and savor the remaining time with him.
You are most welcome. I always had the feeling that I should have spent more time with my parents in their later years; but we all accepted the physical distance between us, and there were pluses! (They fell in love with Jamaica and loved visiting us!) Just stay positive, hard as it may be…
What a lovely memory that your parents ended up falling in love with the Jamaica you know and cherish. I am blessed that my parents were able to visit the Netherlands last year, and understand our desire to live overseas. Thank you Emma, this helps more than you know.
You are more than welcome… Sometimes learning each other’s experiences does help. Yes, parents often understand more than you know. I realized that about mine, in the end…
My Dear WWW(Wonderful World-wide Warrior), no coincidence that you are SOOOO well researched in resiliency just when you need it most; but this is no immunisation to the pain you will face these coming months. I know you will face this with your special brand of wisdom, compassion and thirst to embrace life to the fullest. What a precious time for all your family as you celebrate together the joy and hope of true love, blessed with time to confirm your love for each other.
Knowing your tenacity you will finish your writing in good time! sending love across the miles and if you ever need a lie down in green pastures Brittany is a fab retreat available to you anytime!!
You don’t know how much your words mean Sarah. And perhaps someday we can take you up on your offer about your place in Brittany (or better yet, see you there). Thank you friend.
Once again, a great article on a topic that many people are dealing with. I have commented before, from both personal experience and my professional role in the field of geriatric care management. I have recently hit on some of those big challenges of being afar–dealing with some major health issues w/my Mom and struggling to get home (fight with airlines over changes/flights, etc.) while also in the midst of a new expat move (and all that comes with transition!)–though we don’t have kids so we’re slightly less “sandwiched”. We all do the best, while often feeling we’re not doing the best we could on any front. But, such is the adventure that is life (and especially the adventure that is expat land:-).
On the professional side, I just posted an article on our blog relating to the “sandwich” and some tips and resources: http://info.agingwisely.com/blog/bid/54407/Elder-Care-Management-for-the-Sandwich-Generation that I hope might be useful. I have also linked back to this post as I think it would be great for people (especially dealing with things from a distance) to read about your experiences and insight.
Thanks for another great article! Keep on doing your best–as you said, it’s what we must do, all that we can do and sometimes hard to feel it’s good enough…but having those feelings just shows how much you care and in the end, that is what matters.
Thank you so much Shannon. I really appreciate your kinds words and linking to my blogpost on your site Aging Wisely http://info.agingwisely.com/blog/bid/54407/Elder-Care-Management-for-the-Sandwich-Generation Your site offers good info for people facing aging issues and their families/friends supporting them. I’ll be sure to share the site with my siblings and others who will benefit.
Oh Linda, I’ve just read this post, working back from Covey to here in a marathon catch-up after a mad couple of weeks. I’m so sorry to hear the news about your father. There’s nothing I can tell you that hasn’t already been said by your loving and supportive friends – though there’s much that had me nodding in agreement. It’s testament to your strength and generosity that you’ve been so supportive of me in these past weeks despite shouldering your own heavy burden.
You’re an exceptional person with so much to give. Know that you make a difference in this world and trust that you’ll come through your trials without letting anyone down – quite the opposite. Your father must be so proud.
I’ll be remembering you and your family in my prayers this Ramadan.
Aw girl now you’ve gone and made me cry…thanks Aisha. Such lovely words and sentiments from great people are what help me (all of us, actually) get through the toughest times. Thank you for your prayers, that truly means a lot.
Linda,
Sorry to hear it’s worse than you thought. When going through this with my mother many years ago, I made sure that I told her everything that I thought that she needed to know, about how I felt about her. As you try so hard to get it out, remember that there will be items that you forget; it’s o.k.
What you are experiencing is a form of role reversal. You do, you organize, you comfort, and as you said, you do! In a sense, you become your parent’s parent. It’s a time of stepping up, and no doubt you will make your parents very proud of how they raised you.
I’m very sorry that you are going through this difficult time; as you take care of others, please remember to take care of yourself…. it’s necessary!
Carol – I mentioned the John Mayer lyrics in response to your first comment, before I read this one about saying everything. Believe me, we’re getting good at saying what needs to be said, and it’s cathartic and freeing.