When my mom was raising me and my sister in the 1970s, she relied on a book by Dr. Spock called Baby and Child Care. Pages were folded down, text was underlined. Anytime we would get sick or reach a developmental milestone, she would pull it off the shelf.
When my friends and I were pregnant with our first child in the late 1990s and early 2000s, we were flooded with information from our OB-GYNs and pediatricians on how to be a parent. Books such as What to Expect When You’re Expecting and What to Expect the Toddler Years were staples of every baby shower I attended.
Fast forward to today…
Where is the book How to Parent Your Parent? Because my generation could really use that advice and support right about now.
In my work as a senior advocate, I hear the same stories repeatedly, often starting small and sounding harmless enough:
“My mother fell and went to the hospital, but Dad said she will be fine.”
“My father has a procedure next week, but I’m told it’s minor”.
“My mom drove to the store and got a little lost getting back, but says she is still good to drive.”
“I went to visit them and check on things. The mail is piled high. The refrigerator is full of expired food. I wonder if the bills are being paid on time. I wonder what their bills even are. They tell me they don’t want help.”
Individually, none of these moments feel like an emergency. Collectively, they are often the early signals that something is changing.
Our parents, the generation born in the late 1930s and 1940s, are fiercely independent and extremely private. To say they are stubborn is an understatement. Conversations around aging, health, finances, and estate planning are often off-limits.
There is denial that anything is wrong and a deep belief that things will work themselves out. Until they don’t.
When a crisis hits and decisions must be made quickly, options are suddenly limited. Information becomes overwhelming and, at times, misleading. Adult children are left trying to make sense of it all while emotionally exhausted and unsure where to turn.
My sister and I are extremely fortunate. Our parents planned. They worked with a financial advisor and an elder care law attorney. Their power of attorney and health care directives were shared with us long before we truly understood why they mattered.
As our mother’s memory started to decline a few years ago, she wrote out her own obituary, along with a list of Bible readings and hymns to be sung at her funeral.
Not everyone plans for their own aging process the way my parents did. And even when they do, not everyone communicates their wishes or financial realities to their family members.
Starting the conversation early can help. But when Mom and Dad are resistant to planning for the inevitable, understanding the options ahead of time is how you, as their advocate, can prepare. Preparation is not about taking control of their lives. It is about protecting their safety, dignity, and independence for as long as possible.
I still have not found a New York Times bestseller on how to parent your parent. But similar to raising children or even a puppy, you do not have to figure it out alone. Build a support system by reaching out to professionals and to people who have already walked this path.
Most of all, remember that everyone wants the same thing in the end. To stay safe. To remain independent. And to feel supported rather than managed.