Pride Goes Before the Fall!

It is no secret that as we age, our bodies are less sturdy, our gait can be less balanced. Too often, pride is the greatest obstacle to making changes to reduce the risk of falls or injury.

PRIDE: keeps us from removing throw rugs (the single greatest tripping hazard in any home).

PRIDE: keeps us from asking for help to do things we used to do with confidence. (I remember the alarm I felt when I discovered my 88 year old mother was changing her own ceiling lightbulbs – standing on a stool, reaching up over her head).

PRIDE: keeps us from using assistive devices (especially canes and walkers) when our doctor or family has asked us to.

PRIDE: leads us to believe we are unbreakable if we do fall.

PRIDE…will get you in trouble!

http://cdn.phys.org/newman/gfx/news/hires/emergencydet.jpg
Photo credit to phys.org, article on Emergency detection systems.

A fall with a fracture can be a sentinel event. 30% of people over the age of 80 who suffer a fractured hip die within the year, because it is that taxing on one’s health and stamina. Risk of injury is increased if one is taking blood thinners. A fall with a bonk to the head can be an inconvenience for some, but a deadly experience for those on anticoagulants. Blood pressure medications can cause dizziness – rise slowly, don’t walk off until you feel steady.

Clearly, the best thing to do is NOT FALL!

Look for tripping hazards in your home, and consider ways to remove them.

  • Throw rugs can be secured with double sided carpet tape, but are still a significant hazard. Can you remove them altogether? Uneven flooring can also be hazardous.
  • Mind your pets and their toys. They can be small enough to not notice, large enough to cause tripping.
  • Make sure your walkways are free from clutter, especially at the end of the day.
  • Provide good lighting to those paths you walk, especially at night.
  • Ask for help when you need it, and if you have to do something risky (changing light bulbs, getting into a high cupboard), make sure someone knows what you are up to.
  • Wear comfortable, non-slip foot wear that give you good support.
  • If you live alone, please consider a Life Alert type call system. They are well worth the cost. Find a Call Buddy – someone you agree to check in with at the same time every day.  Make a back up plan for what to do if you call and they don’t answer when you expect them to!

Balance and strength come from our core muscles. Find an exercise class or home program that gently helps strengthen muscles and improves balance. Elastic muscles are strong muscles, older adults who exercise daily are less likely to have a fall, and less likely to suffer severe injury if they do. It is never too late to begin toning and strengthening! Swimming, yoga, walking, tai chi, are good forms of exercises that are easy on the joints.

As always, if you want more information on any topic I write about, or information on something you haven’t seen here, please email me at info@artofparentcare.com

 

Church Congregations and Aging Adults

Part 1 of 4:  The Invisible Aging Person

The church needs renewed consideration of the Eldest members. People too often become invisible once they are no longer able to get out, when they are too fragile to “contribute” to the growth or life of the church. I have witnessed a sad trend played out in congregations I have participated in and the work I have done with Elders both in the community and in Assisted Living Facilities.  Once a person becomes absent – through relocation to an institution, becoming home bound due to infirmity or because the church is not set up to accommodate special needs –  they become invisible.  Deacons may send a card on special days.  A church visitor may pop in for an hour once a month, but the Older member becomes exiled, wandering alone in the spiritual desert of their last years.

I belong to a small, aging congregation in a rural community. There has been discussion of late that if we don’t bring in younger families, the church may not have sufficient members to keep the doors open.  That’s a reality shared by many small churches, and the focus of revitalization strategies taught by leaders like Thom Rainer and Ken Priddy. It makes sense: We must find ways to invite people to come in – and stay – to keep the church alive.  The Great Commission calls us to make disciples and certainly we can’t do that if the doors are closed.

Historically, churches grew from the younger demographic upwards, not unlike societal institutions. Historically speaking (pre Baby Boomer cohort) the majority of our population were in their middle years, with a large base of youth and children at the base of the population pyramid, and retirees and Elders comprising the narrowing tip. Nursery care, preschool programs and Vacation Bible School drew families by attracting  children and their parents. That was an effective paradigm for growth as the Boomer Generation was created, well into the 90’s as they then had their own children. (This format worked for me. I was “unchurched” until a program drew my children in and then I followed. Nothing softens the heart of a parent more thoroughly than seeing their children glowing with joy and a sense of purpose; the innocence of “letting their light shine”).

The times, though, they are a’changing. The Boomers will be launching the last of their babies shortly.  The Generations X and Y and the Millennials will not likely reproduce in the numbers that the Boomers and their parents did. Church nurseries, I predict, will not host the numbers that were common 30 years ago.

I will close this installment with a story I was privy to. I began reflecting on this situation as our church discusses revitalization efforts and how we become more welcoming. It occurred to me to think through “to whom do we need to be welcoming?”  We need to not overlook our aged church members, who once disconnected from their Spiritual fellowship, can suffer in isolation.

Mae was a resident at an assisted living where I was employed as a nurse. She was in her early 80’s, and suffered short term memory loss.  Mae had been moved to the assisted living apartment because she could no longer safely care for herself at home, and her family thought the socialization of the community living facility would benefit her. Mae had a church visitor – once a month a young gentleman would “round” on about a half dozen residents who had once been church members. As far as I could see, that was her only church contact.  In chatting with her eldest child one day, I heard an intense anger towards the church and it’s members, as he felt that for the 40 years Mae had participated in all aspects of the life of her church, no one “saw” her anymore.  She had become invisible to the church family, save the dedicated volunteer who provided ministry in the local facilities for “former” church members. Mae was starving for conversation, for regular prayer, Bible Study, a friend, and the ritual of church services.  In the assisted living, she was spiritually starving. Her children also felt abandoned by the church family they had grown up with, and thought would continue to be a resource for them and their mother as her needs changed.

Our seniors become “the forgotten” and often decline visits because “they don’t want to be a bother”.  I’ll let you in on a secret.  They DO want to be a bother.  They want to be seen, noticed, cared about, included, even in their changing states.  They thirst for authentic connection, visits, prayer, hymns, gossip.

Questions to consider:

How many of your aged church members seem to have become invisible once they no longer attended services regularly? 

Is anyone designated in your church to notice an absence and follow up with a call to the parishioner or their family? 

Who in your church family is tasked with making sure members, unable to get out often, are visited frequently enough to nurture still growing relationships, rituals and spiritual succor?

* * * * * * *

I challenge church leaders to take an inventory of the people that have faded from view in the last year.

Where have they gone?

Who has reached out to them?

What training is offered for your volunteer visitors, if you have such a body, so that they are equipped to have meaningful visits to those who are home bound?

Does your church regularly engage with the families of their aging membership?

Moving from “Burden” to “Participant”, a paradigm shift in the roles the 1st generation can play in the extended family.

I hear this at least once a week – someone will state they don’t want to be a burden on their family. They don’t want to live with adult children, they don’t want to ask for help if they live alone. It hurts my heart to hear this, I learn so much from the Elders I know and enjoy sharing time and stories. I don’t want to see my role in my family change from participant — from being essential to our joyous and goal-oriented function — to feeling that I have nothing of value to contribute and would only be a draw on resources. A “burden”.

 

New American Dictionary defines burden thus:
burden |ˈbərdn|noun
1 a load, esp. a heavy one.
• a duty or misfortune that causes hardship, anxiety, or grief; a nuisance
• the main responsibility for achieving a specified aim or task
• a ship’s carrying capacity; tonnage:

2 (the burden) the main theme or gist of a speech, book, or argument
• the refrain or chorus of a song. (italics mine)

How did we come to believe that as we age in our family, our role evolves from essential service to a “misfortune that causes hardship, anxiety, grief”, or that we become a “nuisance”??? I have fixed ideas about how this shift from essential, valued, integrated member of the family disintegrated in our Post WWII culture, (you can find them addressed in Chapter One of “Holding Hands: Journeys with the Aging Family” to be released in 2013). More important here is refuting the myth of the invisible, devalued, aging adult and moving from “burden” to “participant” in the co-generational family.
The “burden” concept begs the question, “What do we need to change so that Elders stop defining themselves and their needs as a burden?”  How do we help them quantify the value they bring to the family?
It would be nice if Elders in a co-generational setting were more visible in our media. Portrayals in popular culture “cameo” grandparents, aunts and uncles. They are not part of the weekly story line, and are often written out of our own storylines as well.
This invisibility comes from both sides. Our aging parents, who began their families in the neo-television/post WWII era, also have no model for integrating parents. Likely, they moved away from their own families of origin to the suburbs after the war, leaving their own parents to the care of each other, their siblings or a child who stayed geographically close. To have parents live with us after WWII was interpreted as a weakness – not cutting “apron strings” or being overly involved. “You aren’t going to let your parents tell you what to do, are you?” as though taking advice from those who have been there/done that, would be shameful. Not independent. Not trendy.

Our very narrow tolerance of anything “different” bled into the way we learned to not care for our Elders. On the other end of the parenting spectrum, we were expected to cut our children loose at the earliest legal age and start planning our midlife, renewed “independent, Golden Years” with a sense of relief that all that family stuff was done, checked off the to-do list of life. I’m here to tell you, that was all a bunch of hooey.
What we gained instead were expensive and low-quality institutions to house Elders, middle-aged parents suffering from “empty nest syndrome”, new retirees suffering from a lack of purpose and sense of value. I stand firmly behind the belief, from four decades of observation and one of professional exposure, that humans are most decidedly NOT meant to be independent, autonomous islands in the stream. We hunger for connectedness, integration, participation, feeling valued and loved, and contributing to family and community. The tribal model of survival is as ancient as our earliest recorded histories, there is a reason why. This experiment of division has not promoted individual or family health as our members have aged.  It fractured family resources rather than concentrating family wealth and resources of time, and now creates a discontent in the Elder generation which too often leads to great feelings of sadness and loss. Where they may desire connection and support, they deny their own needs because somewhere along the line they bought the lie that to do so would be burdensome to the very people they gave life and love to.
This is wrong.

Recognizing how we got here is part of the solution. The other part is asking yourself how you show  you recognize the contribution your parents, aunts and uncles, Elder family friends make in your life now. Reminiscing is great, but subtly reinforces the concept that those days of value have passed.

  • Why is their presence important NOW?
  • How do they add value to your life NOW?
  • What could you not do without them for NOW?

In the early self help years, we called these “ego strokes” and they developed a reputation for being unhealthy. They aren’t. We all need to know that we matter to the people around us, and no age cohort needs that more than the one that has been rendered invisible, comical, burdensome in 40 years of televised cultural teaching.
What can your parents teach your children – essential family or cultural knowledge, survival skills, games and playfulness – that you can’t due to limited resources or time? Looking at the generations that stand on either side of you, what do they have to offer each other? Child care? Cooking lessons? Learning to budget money? Homework supervision? Being the licensed driver while a teen gets their supervised hours in? Living models of history?  Can your child learn how to express love and service to an Elder family member, just because it’s the right thing to do? (Teach them now with your parents, and they will teach your grandchildren in time).
This is how we rebuild a cultural model of family members taking care of each other across the lifespan. This model is seamless, no one gets left out. Everyone knows they are important to the quality of someone else’s life, to the security of the family and it’s members, and love and respect have ample room to grow.
Referring back to that original definition, the alternate to “nuisance” was:
2 (the burden) the main theme or gist of a speech, book, or argument
• the refrain or chorus of a song.

I choose to think this is where the descriptor as Elder family member being “a burden” first came from. As the historians of our family and culture, that is a much more tender and fitting definition of those who have come before us, shaped us, nurtured us, raised us up. May our Elder Generation come again to be revered as carrying the chorus of our family song.

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Happy Father’s Day,
Katherine

Happy Memorial Day (weekend)

Tribute to a family of participants:  The Ledford Loughead clan (my father is the baby), Oliver P. Ledford with Sea Bees on Tinian, WWII, and with support staff in Viet Nam; Eva Heineck and Katherine Heineck, USCG Spars.
Tribute to a family of participants: The Ledford Loughead clan (my father is the baby), Oliver P. Ledford with Sea Bees on Tinian, WWII, and with support staff in Viet Nam; Eva Heineck and Katherine Heineck, USCG Spars.

Holidays are a time for establishing and maintaining rituals. This last weekend in May is generally harkened as the first weekend of “summer”, play time, fun time, get-outside-in-the-sun time. We think of beaches and blankets, the smell of sunscreen and water and how there really is sand in sandwiches. The boat goes in the water, the tent gets popped up, someone gets too drunk and spoils the whole affair. Memorial Day!

Holiday rituals connect us to family gone before us. Some rituals we keep, some we let go, some adapt in collaboration with a lover or mate who brings their own with them. My father kept holidays well, though I didn’t always appreciate that. With Christmas, of course, the better kept the happier the children are, and my dad could keep Christmas very, very well! Memorial Day was harder for me as a child.  While friends would be camping or playing and enjoying the three day weekend, and he loaded us up and drove to a town I was unfamiliar with, spent time talking to people 5 decades my senior (oh how I wish I had that time back now!) and took flowers to his parents’ gravesites. I recognize now that like Christmas traditions, my father also kept Memorial Day… very well.

My father passed away 36 years ago. He’d be 99 this year (so if he’d survived the heart attack at 63, he’d still be gone by now). Memories don’t do “time” though. He is as alive for me this Memorial Sunday as he ever was, and I get to go visit him today. My 21 year old daughter will be with me to hear the stories, see the place, walk through old neighborhoods, clean the headstone, admire the cherry tree and with love and attention, place flowers and a flag. It took thinking I couldn’t go this year (and I’ve  missed 25 due to relocating far from my home town and his resting place) for me to realize how imperative it was that I go. Through all the automotive travails we have had in the last three days I thought it impractical to make the 3 hour trip “home”. I tried to console myself with setting up a small Memorial Day alter for my parents, but the thought of this man — who voluntarily served in two wars — having an empty headstone struck my heart and I realized that…. I had to go.  I had to make my love and respect for him made visible on this Memorial Day.

Through the ritual my father taught me all those uncomfortable childhood Memorial Day weekends ago, I have a cellular imperative to honor him the same way, to take my own daughter, who never knew this wonderful man, and make him real to her. My mother, whose ashes remain above ground as yet, will one day rest with him, and a more complete family reunion will take place, at least this one day a year. Hopefully, there will always be a child there to hear the stories, for it is in our rituals of remembering that we share our oral histories with our offspring. Through ritual, we teach those that come after us the values we cherish.

I never knew my grandparents, both died before I was born. I understand better the love and respect my father had for them, demonstrated by honoring them, publicly, at least this one weekend a year. They made him the man he became and through him, helped craft me into the woman that I am today and the man I see my own son becoming.

We are not disconnected from our family histories. They live in us and through us, are passed to our children whether we attend to their memories or not. Similarly, while our families are living, whether we ignore their needs, put off the phone calls, imagine that everything is “alright, or they’d call me”, we are not disconnected from them and their influence upon us.

The Post War (that would be WWII) cultural shift away from extended family and to the ‘burbs has been an interesting social experiment in fracturing the family, and it hasn’t worked out so well. When denied the comfort and company of multiple generations, aging has become isolating and demeaning, where too often Elders feel they are “less than” if they require assistance from others.  By ignoring rituals and connectedness (my mother made Sunday dinner for us for years, that became “our time”), we forget to teach our own children the importance of family connection, those generational bonds that sustain us when the world shakes beneath our feet.  Cooperation and collaboration support multiple generations of family so knowledge is saved and wealth is condensed.  I hope that as a unique American culture, we will come again to defy the idea that we are all independent, autonomous islands, sustainable on our own. This Memorial Day, I call you to remember, and then to share.

Blessings to you and yours,
Katherine

Plan for some self care in 2013!

I am sitting this holiday morning in the house that I grew my children in.  Here we raised lambs and goats and chickens and colts and a couple steers; where any given Saturday or Sunday morning could find unexpected teenaged bodies flopped sound asleep across my living room, arms and legs dangling over the edge of the sofa or arms of chairs as though some explosion had thrown them there.

A lot of memories were made in this house. It was a place of activity, growth and creativity, laughter and teenaged angst.  Felt tip marker identifies where pictures were colored; a bent heater vent displays someone’s foot expressing impulsive anger.  Here is the wall I papered while my then husband took our children away for two weeks (that was what I thought a vacation was in those years – everyone gone from home except me).

My mother spent a lot of time at my house.  Often, it was spent cleaning up after us, as I was not a stay-at-home mom, I was a doing-everything-but! Mom.  Besides working full time, we had 4H, FFA and Equestrian Team and later High School Rodeo, which took us out on the road 10 weeks a year.  I was a “lets tidy the barn” mom, while the living room could rock on it’s own with co-mingled clean and dirty laundry, dogs, books and toys laying about, waiting for the Saturday morning fit of cleaning.

Less clutter of both stuff and time makes everything simpler, and in simplicity, planning is easier.  I know I brought some of my own issues to the organized chaos that was our lives – afraid to say “no” to work or activities, trying to prove I was worthy of love, trying to prove as an educated, middle income woman, I could do and have it all.  (Not!)

As a family we rarely planned our activities to include my mother – in part because she didn’t want us to arrange our lives to meet her needs – but that was exactly how life was arranged.  Without intention it was often chaotic, haphazard and crisis-oriented.  Planning things together would have enabled us to utilize her energy and outside resources better so our time together wasn’t just spent doing errands. We could have done more of what I’m remembering this morning: Skip Bo and Scrabble at this dining table, 8 years of Christmas mornings in this living room, her grandchildren in jammies tucked under her arm as presents were doled out; Sunday dinners that brought everyone together.

We had love, we had animals, we had stuff, we had fun.  We had each other.  What we lacked was a plan – a vision for serenity in the midst of the jumble of activities and overlapping needs of three generations.  A plan for abrupt change in needs.  A plan for my spouse and I to get some rest and respite from juggling all that we did.

As a New Year shines on the horizon, I pose this challenge to you:  in the midst of organizing around your family needs, make a plan for self care so that you can more ably care for those you love, more intentionally spend loving time (not just busy-ness) with them. Time misspent is time lost to us…

I will post more on planning schemes and those things that should be considered in the multi-generational family during the coming weeks.  Let’s make 2013 the year that brings organized harmony, identification of family resources and confidence to your maturing family!

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Holiday Jolly, 2007

Love to you and Blessed Family-ing!

Katherine