The problem with guilt is that sometimes we deserve it. And
we know it. We can't cast the first stone. We make mistakes,
we hurt people, we're lazy or arrogant or selfish and we feel
bad about that.
And rightly so.
Guilt -- that pang of conscience, that ache of remorse -- can
goad us into being better people. In the same way that a body
uses pain to signal an injury that needs attending, the
conscience can send a message of guilt that forces us to examine
our actions; guilt forces us to consider what we have done and
what we have failed to do.
All too frequently for a caregiver helping a loved one, that
guilt alarm never stops ringing. That examination of conscience
becomes perpetual. The feelings of frustration and inadequacy
and doubt never cease.
Sometimes it helps to realize that no matter what you do --
no matter how much or how little -- the guilt is likely to be
there.
--You feel guilty because you don't stop in and see Mom every
day. Or you feel guilty because you're spending too much time
helping her and think you're neglecting your spouse and kids.
--You feel guilty because you don't live closer to Dad now
that he needs extra help. Or you feel guilty because you're the
sibling who does live close by and you're resentful -- even
jealous -- that the others don't know the day-to-day hassles
you're facing.
--You feel guilty that Mom gets out of bed and walks to the
living room when your sister visits her but she refuses to do
that for you. You must be pampering her. Doing too much. Or you
feel guilty that she isn't doing well right now. You must be
pushing her too hard.
--You feel guilty that sometimes you get mad at Dad because
he won't listen to your suggestions. Or you feel guilty that
you're not more involved in helping him decide what to do and
helping him get it done.
--You feel guilty because Mom wasn't very good at being a
parent and you love her but sometimes you just don't like her.
Or you feel guilty because she was a super parent and now she
needs your help and you're not coming through for her the way
she did for you.
--You feel guilty because you've been a pretty good son or
daughter all your life but now, when Dad is really relying on
you, you're just not making it. Or you feel guilty because you
were pretty wild when you were younger and you didn't listen to
him and you know that hurt him.
--You feel guilty that you didn't go into nursing or some
other career that would really benefit Mom now. Or you feel
guilty that you can help all kinds of people at work --
strangers, really -- but Mom just drives you up the wall.
--You feel guilty about feeling guilty all the time. Or you
feel guilty for giving yourself a break and not feeling guilty.
--And maybe hardest of all, you feel guilty because sometimes
you imagine what a relief it will be when Dad has died. And then
you can't believe you feel this way.
As if your emotions aren't already stirred up, overworked and
muddled enough, your parents, siblings, spouse and kids might
not be blameless in this area either.
Mom or Dad knows what buttons to push--the phrase, the
gesture, the sigh, the stare -- to make you feel guilty, make
you feel like a little kid.
Brothers and sisters likewise haven't forgotten their
sibling's emotional weak spots, and at times, they're not above
exploiting that knowledge.
A spouse can pour on guilt.
Children -- even little ones -- can be masters at using guilt
to manipulate their parents.
And society is not shy about showing its disapproval. It
would have you believe all the elderly are poor, lonely,
forgotten people because of an adult child's selfishness. And
likewise, it claims, placing a loved one in a nursing home -- or
even considering such a move -- is always cruel and immoral.
While your head may realize these things aren't so, sometimes
your heart seems to believe them.
The truth is, even after a parent dies, the guilt can live
on.
"I should have . . . ."
"I shouldn't have . . . ."
"Why did I . . . ?"
"Why didn't I . . . ?"
Guilt can easily become a constant companion and if left
unchecked, if allowed to race freely, it continuously feeds the
twin fires of exhaustion and anger.
These, then, are some strategies to help keep guilt under
control:
--Remember that you are a human being. Like all humans, you
are not perfect. Not a perfect spouse. Not a perfect parent. Not
a perfect son or daughter. Not perfect at work or home or
anywhere else. You will never be a perfect caregiver.
Never.
--Remember you don't have to do everything for an aging
parent. It is not required that you meet all Dad's needs
yourself. Give away some of that work. If there isn't enough
time to clean his house and make all his meals or if you can't
bring yourself to give Dad a bath, there are very competent,
qualified people who can do those things. People in social
service jobs who provide home and personal care.
Instead, use your time and energy to do those things with him
that you really want to do. The things that mean the most to you
and to him. The ones that will mean the most to you after he is
gone.
Who ever heard of a grieving child say, "No, I didn't get to
talk much to Dad near the end but I'm just so thankful I kept
his kitchen floor spotless"?
You are not in this alone. Look for formal and informal
support. Ask for help from siblings, fellow parishioners,
friends, neighbors, the community, and social service
professionals.
--Remember you can set limits. As Mom's health continues to
fail, she's going to need more and more attention, but that does
not mean you will be able to continue to match that need. Permit
yourself to say, "I can't do that."
--Remember that sooner is better than later. Don't wait for a
crisis to arise before getting supplemental help. Don't wait
until you are at -- or near -- burnout.
--Remember that there are others who are facing the same
insurmountable challenges you are. There are support groups
available whose members will listen and understand.
--Finally, remember you must accept the fact that no matter
how much you do for an aging parent, no matter how well you do
it, a parent's health is going to deteriorate. A parent is going
to die. This isn't a reflection on you and the quality of care
you provide. It's a fact of human nature.
And it's not your fault.