Moving Aging Parent to a Higher Level of Care: Trusting What Comes Next

Moving Aging Parent to a Higher Level of Care: Trusting What Comes Next

There comes a point in the story of many families when the person who once helped us take our first steps begins to need a little help taking their own, and that can be a very difficult transition for children and their aging parents. Making the decision to find a higher level of care for an aging parent can bring an incredible mix of emotions.

There may be relief because you know your parent needs more support or guilt because part of you wonders if you should be doing more yourself. There may be sadness because you recognize that something about life is changing. And, of course, there may be fear:

  • What if they aren’t happy?
  • What if they don’t understand why they need to move?
  • What if we are making the decision too soon?
  • What if we are making the wrong decision?

 

I’ve come to understand these questions in a different way through both my work at The Highlands at Wyomissing® and my own experience as the daughter of an aging parent who recently moved to Aspire for Well-Being® Memory Support.

There is no perfect time, and no decision of this magnitude comes without emotion. There is no way to know exactly what the next chapter will look like before you turn the page, but recently in my own situation I have been able to take some comfort from the lessons my own children have already taught me.

It turns out that moving a parent is a lot like sending a child to college or off into adulthood. When we send our children to college, we don’t do it because we don’t want them to be around anymore or because we are tired of being their parents. We send them because we recognize that they are entering a different stage of life and that they need something different from what they needed before, something they can no longer attain in their current living situation.

We may cry when we drive away. We may worry and wonder if they’re ready and if we’re ready. But eventually, we discover that our children can thrive in ways we never even imagined.

Maybe a move to a higher level of care can be viewed through that same lens. It isn’t giving up or abandoning a parent. It is recognizing that their needs have changed and giving them the support that will allow them to continue living as fully and meaningfully as possible.

At The Highlands, I’ve seen how important that distinction can be. A transition to a higher level of care doesn’t have to mean giving up everything that is familiar. In a continuing care community, a resident can remain part of a community they know while receiving the additional support they need as their circumstances change. And for families, this transition can allow a son or daughter to spend less time worrying about whether Mom took her medications, whether Dad is eating properly or whether they are safe. It can allow adult children more time simply being their child: more time sitting together, talking, laughing, dining, and making memories.

Sometimes the greatest gift we can give our parents isn’t doing everything for them ourselves. It is recognizing when they need more help than we can provide and having the courage to find it.

The first step is not an easy one. I don’t want to pretend that making this kind of transition is easy. There may be tears, resistance and second-guessing. There may be days when you drive home and wonder whether you’ve done the right thing, but it is important to give it time while your parent is adjusting. And during that time, try to notice the little things:

  • The first time your parent laughs with someone new
  • The activity they unexpectedly enjoy
  • The staff member who remembers how they take their coffee
  • The familiar face they begin looking for
  • The day they seem just a little more settled
  • When they call their new apartment home

These moments may not seem like much, but they matter because sometimes, when we’re standing at the beginning of a transition, we are so focused on what we are leaving behind that we can’t see what might be waiting ahead. This is a lesson that I learned from my daughters, and now, as my siblings, mom and I enter another season of change, I am reminding myself to hold onto that lesson. We don’t always get to choose the next chapter. Sometimes circumstances choose it for us.

The four young girls we once helped move into college are now grown women building lives of their own. All those difficult moves, the ones that felt so enormous at the time, are now simply part of their stories. And perhaps that’s what I would like other sons and daughters to know when they are standing in the middle of their own difficult transition: You may not be able to see what’s waiting on the other side, but most likely it will be full of positive changes and growth.

You didn’t know what was next when you dropped your child off at college or when you helped them leave a place they loved. You couldn’t see the friendships, opportunities, relationships and experiences that were waiting for them. You simply trusted that the next chapter would come, and it did.

So if you find yourself helping your parent make a move to a higher level of care, or are considering doing so, it is important to give yourself permission to feel everything that comes with it. Be sad. Be worried. Ask questions. Take your time, and then, when you’re ready, take the next step because the move is not the end of the story. It is simply the doorway to what comes next.

And while none of us can truly know exactly what is waiting on the other side, sometimes we have to trust that there may be something good around the corner, something we simply cannot see yet. Just as we tell our children when they leave home for the first time, the message is simple: It will be okay.