Explore with Parents

The Hard Questions For Adult Children And Their Aging Parents: 100 Essential Questions For Facing The Future Together, with Courage and Compassion
by Susan Piver

(Page 3 of 4)

Are your parents open to asking and answering The Hard Questions with you and your siblings? There is only one way to find out: Ask them. There's a variety of ways to broach the subject, ranging from the direct ("Mom, Dad, I'd like to talk about your health, finances, and our relationship. As we all get older, I'm realizing more and more how important it is to discuss these things") to the emotional ("I love you and want to know everything there is to know so I can be as supportive and loving as possible at this time in your life") to the pragmatic ("How would you feel about going over a couple of issues about your finances?"). Remember, you don't have to ask all The Hard Questions at one sitting, or ever. You can start with a few, see how that goes, and then decide whether to keep going. You can even use this book as an "excuse" to initiate the dialogue ("Hey, I was skimming over this interesting book on adult children and their parents. Some of the points seem useful; would it be okay if we looked at them together?").

Of course, it's easy to see why it's important for parents and children to discuss these topics; what's not so easy is to actually do it. No matter how practical and prepared or how committed you are to acting responsibly and lovingly toward yourself, your siblings, and your parents, it's still difficult to actually have this conversation. Most of us are afraid to even try. Some families have financial complexities or deficiencies that can make conversation difficult. Some may be experiencing serious health-related problems. Others have long-standing emotional issues that can add to the stress of this dialogue. It's also possible that someone in the family - a sibling or a parent - will not want to do this at all. One or both parents may be feeling enough anxiety, depression, or denial to prevent them from even considering this dialogue. This is a completely understandable but difficult obstacle to overcome. Should you encounter this situation, try to find some small question or topic you can address together. Then, if it goes well, you may be able to introduce a second, fairly nonthreatening question, and so on until you get as far as you are able.

No matter what your particular situation, there are four qualities that can help you navigate The Hard Questions with the skillfulness that is necessary for a meaningful outcome.

Courage

As I've already said, you need courage to even contemplate the death of your parents. Courage is the willingness to step into whatever may be arising within yourself and in your world, no matter what it is. It is the intention to go beyond fear, beyond your comfort level, for your own benefit and the benefit of others.

When we think about our parents' death, our first reaction, usually, is fear - of their suffering, of our own pain in the face of their suffering, of what it will be like when death actually occurs. Whether it manifests as sadness, frustration, obsessive detail management, or simply denial, fear generally lurks just below the surface. It's extremely important to step into and beyond this fear in order to be of service to our parents when they need us. We must be brave enough to step beyond our own comfort level to what will be most helpful to them and to us.

The Willingness to Feel

When you open yourself to the realities of death and dying within your own family, deep and compelling emotions may arise. At first, these feelings can be extremely, even unbearably uncomfortable, tempting you to do whatever you can to stop feeling the sadness, anger, anxiety, or whatever emotion may arise. I'm not saying you should force yourself to feel bad, but if and when these feelings do arise, allowing yourself to feel them can be powerful, beneficial, and, ultimately, can deepen your ability to tolerate whatever may arise. When you are sad, cry. When you become angry or irritated, yell and scream, go to the gym, or vent your feelings with a friend or counselor. When you become anxious, let the anxiety shake through you. Don't try to distract yourself by talking yourself out of it, sentimentalizing it, throwing yourself into work to avoid it, rationalizing it, fighting it, blaming others for it, or trying to ignore it. Simply feel what you are feeling without having to provide it with a "story line." If, for example, you feel sadness as you contemplate a parent's passing, you can feel the sadness without telling yourself that if only you had been a better daughter (or son), you wouldn't feel so sad, or that this sadness means you have to immediately become a hospice volunteer, or that when your parents die you'll feel so alone on your birthday, or anything else. These "story lines" may, indeed, be quite true, but they actually prevent the proper "metabolization" of feeling. They prolong, misconstrue, or complicate the feeling beyond its original form. When you are able to simply feel your feelings, you don't become stuck in any one of them or frozen in fear of another. And at no time will this ability be more useful - to you and to those around you - than when you are working with the aging and death of your parents. The willingness to feel is what will enable you to stay emotionally connected to them when all you want to do is withdraw, and to yourself as you begin to contemplate your own aging and death.

The Willingness to Relinquish Control

If you cultivate courage and an ability to tolerate your own and others' strong emotions, you will have established a strong position from which to contemplate and accept perhaps the most difficult truth of all - your inability to control outcomes. We all crave certainty. We're taught to believe that if we are prepared, conscientious, kindhearted, and intelligent, we can actually direct the events of our lives. We each have our own strategies and mantras for securing and ensuring our own happiness. We have formulas for finding a mate (Get out and socialize! Lose five pounds! Visualize him or her!), getting the perfect job (Dream big! Be aggressive! Believe!), or even raising healthy children (No TV! Religious training! Family outings!), and so on. But while all these admonitions may be helpful, none of them can guarantee the certainty we crave. Yet, time after time, in our own families, at school, at work, and in intimate relationships, we try to set up situations we can count on to make us happy. And at no time is this wish for certainty stronger than when we think about losing a loved one. Whether it's our spouse (whom we've already asked to promise never to leave us), our child (to whom we issue a continuous stream of instructions for remaining safe and happy), or our parents, we can't actually have power over the outcomes of our relationships. Although this is a very painful truth to live with, addressing the questions of aging and death is a sure way to begin accepting these realities. At first, our acceptance may be only theoretical, which is okay. Anything we can do to acclimate to this reality is good. But when a parent becomes ill or dies, there is no more theory, only the pain or shock of loss, and the recognition that, no matter what, we can't alter or prevent what is happening. Maintaining an open heart, continuing to offer and receive love, staying present with yourself, your siblings, and your parents, without becoming too enmeshed in "managing" the situation or drowning in your own emotions, is actually the most helpful gesture you can make.

Presence

How is it possible to stay present in the face of such powerful and painful feelings? What does "staying present" mean, anyway? One definition of staying present is trying to do the first three steps - have courage, be open to feeling, and be willing to relinquish control - all the time. If you have courage, are willing to feel, and relinquish the idea that you can control outcomes, you will have gone a long way toward cultivating presence. When you are present, you open yourself to what is with curiosity, gentleness, and accuracy - which enables you to be with whatever is arising in a wholehearted way. And what your parents most likely want from you, more than anything, is for you simply to be with them until the end of their lives. Ultimately, this is the only - and best - gift you can give.

* * *

While, as I've said, it's not important for you to answer every single question in this book, it will be useful to consider and answer as many as seem relevant to you. Each family will certainly have emotional, psychological, and practical issues that make some questions seem crucial while others are totally off-limits. So please use your best judgment when choosing the questions you think are most valuable.

That said, however, reviewing all the questions will give you a clear sense of how to accompany, honor, and support your parents as they navigate toward the end of their lives. And answering as many of them as seems pertinent will help you to prepare - emotionally, psychologically, spiritually, and pragmatically - to deal with what is bound to be a scary, painful, even kind of crazy time. To do that is like taking a preliminary tour of a journey you unknowingly "signed up for" some forty or fifty years ago. The more you can anticipate the climate, terrain, and customs of the place you may be visiting, the more likely it is that you will navigate with skill and care. In addition, as your parents age and after their deaths, many details of their world may fall to you for resolution. The more you know about that world in advance, the more likely it is that you, your siblings, and anyone else who is involved will be able to manage the situation peacefully together.

* * *

The questions in this book are meant to support your family in coming to terms with a parent's aging and death. They offer a way to start thinking through a host of involved and potentially painful issues but are not meant to provide comprehensive solutions to all the complex issues you will face together. Depending on your intentions, your sibling relationships, your relationship with your parents, and their current state of health, these questions can be used to create a simple, straightforward checklist of key issues, or they can be used as a means to connect with one another emotionally and spiritually. Please feel free to use them in the way that is right for you.

Note: The process of asking The Hard Questions can be initiated by either children or parents. Except for those in the first two chapters, however, for reasons of linguistic clarity and simplicity, I've written them from the point of view of the children. Parents should, nevertheless, feel free to reverse the pronouns and approach them from their own perspective.

Copyright © 2004 Susan Piver

About the Author

Susan Piver is the author of The Hard Questions: 100 Essential Questions to Ask Before You Say "I Do." She was also a writer, producer, and marketing specialist for the entertainment industry for more than a decade before launching Padma Media, which creates special book packages for bestselling authors.