Decades ago I bought Viet Nam war veteran Tim O’Brien’s book The Things They Carried because I was intrigued by the title. I was a teenager in the 70’s and had always been moved by what young soldiers had gone through. The title resonates with me now as I am a 52 year old psychologist with aging parents.

Having done a workshop recently on the topic of family dynamics and caring for parents, and having an increasing number of clients who are struggling with this difficult mix of emotions and logistics, I am more keenly aware of how the issues which may emerge at these crossroads are highly impacted by the relationships we had with our parents prior to the challenges that come with their aging.

Aging involves a series of conversations and decisions, losses and grief. Our parents are overwhelmed with a swirl of questions that sometimes all crash in at the same point in time:

■ Can I still drive?

■ Can we stay in this home?

■ Who do I call who lives close by when there is a sudden crisis?

■ Who will make sure we have sufficient ongoing funds to afford quality care?

■ What does that care look like?

Each of these conversations is laden with a huge pool of emotion, a lot of which may be fuelled by the sense the parent may have that their identity and self-determination is being attacked. They justifiably may be wondering but afraid to voice: ‘Am I able to be limited in some areas (e.g. driving) without being robbed of a sense of competence in all areas?’

Ultimately, even if some decisions make total sense to the adult children, the elderly parent is going through a lot of losses and ideally just wants their former life back. Issues of trust may arise: Who will tell me the truth with compassion and kindness, with my best interests at heart rather than what is most expedient? Quick and expedient fixes don’t always take into account the great sense of loss on this road for parents and adult children alike.

Some relationships may be un-muddled and uncomplicated. We can be thankful when there is not a question in either the parent’s or adult child’s mind that the best path, given all options, will be pursued. Other relationships are less clear. Unresolved struggles (pre-dating this aging season) will very likely become magnified now:

■ Was there a favored child (now adult)?

■ Is there trust between parties?

■ Is there an imbalance in responsibilities assumed by the adult children?

For some families these are real and potent issues, not wisely or easily ignored. The Things they Carried represents to me what we bring to our current relationships with our parents, our children, our siblings, even our friendships. It can be very beneficial to recognize and explore these dynamics more fully. Questions which may be helpful to ask ourselves are:

■ What is my identity in my relationship with my parents?

■ How am I able to be supportive of them in a way that is kind and has integrity regardless of past conflicts or rules or possible hurts?

■ Are the challenges presented by caring for aging parents the catalysts needed to address what has previously been left buried and unresolved but which may now need some clarity and healing?

I have sat in both chairs, as counselor and client, and can attest to the value of seeking professional counsel on unresolved issues before heading into serious conversations. At the very least it sheds light on feelings surrounding our experiences; further to that it gives clarity to what may be felt deeply but is not wise to say out loud. In fact, the wisest course might be that nothing deep-rooted is ever voiced directly with our parent. We want to act and speak and show up as if there is no cloud between us. If this is the path we choose, then it will become important for us to have an avenue to off-load any frustration or residual pain. Even a few sessions can be helpful to get a clearer sense of what is the best next step.

There is another book title that caught my attention years ago which captures a guiding principle in these times: What Remains. Am I able to get the support and input I need so that I am left with minimal regrets? Is it possible there may even be gratitude in remembering my parents likely did their best in their context? Ideally what remains is the awareness I also did my best with what I was given; I was able to honor my parents and myself.

Cathy Sakiyama, M.Ed.
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