An Ode to the Daughters That Must Now Mother Their Mothers (and Fathers, Aunties, and Other Kin)

August 6, 2022

Perhaps like many of us your mother was skillful at throwing daggers of shade about the neighbors across the street, she sang alto in the Church choir and let it be known in no particular terms that sister Jones can’t light a match to her tone and vibrato, she knew how to cut you down to size with a quick side eye and stupes of the teeth that was both sharp and strong. She finessed salespeople for the best bargains, she packed and sent barrels back home to her family, she managed her household with a level of efficiency and love that was unmatched, she supervised teams, worked multiple shifts, and somehow even found time to orchestrate a PTA meeting or two all whilst balancing motherhood. In no unspoken terms, she’s adept at all she touches, brilliant, and fiercely independent. Her attributes and abilities are commendable — and it’s these qualities amongst others that must be honored and preserved as she ages.

But bearing witness to our mother's age feels a bit peculiar — jarring even, particularly when our experience of her is one of strength and perseverance. We’ve unconsciously divorced her humanity from her role of parent (because superheroes rarely feel mortal) and that she too is simply comprised of blood and bone who tried her damndest to navigate the very real challenges of evolving as an adult while caring for children without an actual standard operating procedure. But there comes a sobering moment when we fully grasp that our mother no longer possesses the agility of her youth and requires far more than a weekly social phone call or a random weekend visit. Her independence starts to wane in the most nuanced of ways — eyes that peer a bit longer at the fine print (hand me my glasses), knees that are unable to bare her weight for extended periods of time (a pause and a deep breath before climbing a flight of stairs), fatigue that prevents her from staying out too long (I think I’ll head home now), customer service representative calls that deplete her patience (what the hell are they talking about?). The things that were once second nature require a bit more skill and creativity on her part to accomplish.

And in an ideal world, we can keep and pray the major things at bay — a hospitalization, a bad fall, a devastating diagnosis — but often these things amongst the subtle changes come hurtling at us and our respective lives are uprooted, roles are reversed, and several adjustments must be made to accommodate a new normal. A normal wherein our mother’s reliance on us exposes her vulnerability and we work tirelessly to strike a healthy balance that preserves her dignity. But even with our best efforts, this transition doesn’t come without hesitancy and fear from both parties. How does the woman whose composure has always been measured and adorns her independence on her breast pocket relinquish control and embrace compliance? Not easily. There are the cryptic responses around doctor’s appointments and medications prescribed, chores that continue to be done despite the taxation on her body, and general avoidance of direct lines of questioning. Yet, despite the obvious challenges, remaining steadfast in helping our mothers is non-negotiable. This is in part because we deeply love the woman who has sacrificed so much for us but also and especially because, for those of us who identify as members of the Diaspora, we have been socialized to take care of our parents in their older years. We’ve been quietly woven into the fabric of their retirement plans — for many of us, nursing homes aren’t usually culturally acceptable nor are they typically a financially viable option. Thus we proceed and assume the responsibility of caring for our mothers without a manual of our own.

What is needed to successfully care for her may feel elusive when we too have our dreams that we don’t wish to be deferred, we’re ladened with school debt, stuck in a cycle of unaffordable housing, struggling to maintain a work/ life balance, and learning how to effectively parent ourselves whilst managing our own mental health. So it bears asking, how do we reconcile our actual needs and desires with the memories of our mothers taking care of our grannies, nana’s, grandmas, and abuelas with so little and knowing inherently that we too are responsible for ensuring that our mothers receive the same level of devotion? We grit, barrel down, and do it with a sense of pride and trepidation. But if we’re being genuinely transparent — it comes at a cost that we are often frightened to openly discuss amongst our family and friends for fear that our legitimate emotions will be misconstrued as ungratefulness and an active shedding of our responsibilities. Moreover, despite the validity of our feelings we don’t want to compound our mother’s hurt, particularly when she may feel guilty for placing her child(ren) in such a precarious position as she is sifting through her emotions around aging, chronic medical conditions, and life transitions. She is likely a victim of a system that has left her and millions of other baby boomers at the mercy of others. According to PBS NewsHour, “Almost half of Americans nearing retirement have saved less than $25,000”, which places the burden of long-term financial care squarely on the shoulders of adult children and other relatives.

We opt to do what is best even when it may cost us our livelihood in the name of familial obligation and love. One study from Genworth Financial, a company that researches long-term care options, noted that “Sixty-three percent of caregivers use their own savings and retirement funds to pay for care, and 35 percent reported repeated absences at work”. Thus there is a palpable impact on the financial well-being of individuals who assume the responsibilities of a caregiver. And even with knowing this some of us do it despite our strained, marred, and complex relationships with our mothers. We do it without tangible support from other family members, we do it at the expense of career progression, thriving romantic partnerships, and limited opportunities to participate in social gatherings and events. We do it because we don’t trust others to truly invest in the quality of her care. We take on the mantle of managing health care logistics, medication and doctor visits, transportation, grocery shopping, and meal prepping. In some instances, there is bathing, toileting, and feeding that transpire also. All of the aforementioned when done in tandem with our separate responsibilities for our own families can lead many of us down a pathway of stress, burnout, guilt, depression, anxiety, and poor sleeping habits.

The constant weight and toll of it all can create a common experience of heavy isolation. An AP-NORC poll surveyed 1,024 past or present caregivers on whether they felt isolated while providing long-term care and 74% of 18 to 39-year-olds reported feeling this way, compared to 46 percent of those 40 and older. Overall there is a growing number of individuals who are faced with similar challenges in caring for their aging loved ones. AARP’s 2018 Public Policy Institute report indicates that approximately 10 million millennials are responsible for caring for an aging relative, the majority of whom are women, and nearly a fifth of them are Black. Parsing through the data more keenly would likely reveal more specifically a community of millennial Black women who are shouldering their mother’s care as well. Many of these women are mothers themselves who are attempting to stay afloat — who have sacrificed, lost themselves, and working not to lose their mothers. For these care providers balancing everything can feel nearly impossible. They are left to sort through Medicaid options, wills, trusts, life insurance (or the lack thereof), pensions, retirement funds, and competing family needs, in a country that haphazardly discards its elderly with few lifeline options. Ultimately we too may feel guilty that we are unable to adequately support our mothers in the capacity that we envisioned we would be able to do so in our adulthood and consistently serve her with genuine joy. A quiet sadness and anxiety around our realities actively compete against what we know is the best thing to do and the limited resources available — time, money, and energy.

In no uncertain terms, the sh*t is unquestionably hard and you have permission to feel ambivalent — a sense of pride for having the opportunity to take care of the one who nurtured you and simultaneously feel stuck, overwhelmed, and perhaps even a level of resentment that you have the responsibility for taking on this significant undertaking. For some, you may feel angry that you’re left with this task for a parent who wasn’t what you needed her to be yet compelled to set a different tone in this new chapter of your lives. There is no doubt that your foremothers had similar conflicting feelings swelling and filling their chests as they did the intimate work of feeding, cleansing, and changing. Unfortunately, they didn’t necessarily have the space and latitude to express this. But you do — seek therapy and group counseling when and if possible to dissect your feelings. Join those Facebook groups and online forums that can attend to your lived experiences. Have the hard conversations with family and trusted confidants without shame. But most importantly lean into the blessing and honor it is to take care of your mother and also find comfort in knowing that your feelings of discontent are valued and far from uncommon. Regardless of how you feel about this new chapter, we are riding with you.

References:

Flinn, B. (2018, May). PDF. Millennials: The Emerging Generation of Caregivers. AARP Public Policy Institute.

Rohrich, Z. (2019, January 16). Why more millennials are becoming caregivers? PBS. Retrieved August 6, 2022, from https://www.pbs.org/newshour/amp/health/why-more-millennials-are-becoming-caregivers