Old Stories

Thoughts of age

Hello all,

We have an elder relative staying with us for a short while at the moment. It is tough, I have to admit. I thought it wouldn’t be. I was the one who suggested this stay, I thought it would be nice, I thought I was being nice. But I didn’t account for a) my autism and not liking my routine changed, b) my ME and the extra energy that would be used looking after this elder person and c) I would get a stinking head cold for the first time in years.

This relative wants to talk ALL THE TIME. I just don’t have the energy normally to listen to a lot of talk so this has floored me (and they are very loud talkers even with their hearing aids in) and then with this cold my ears have been blocked, my nose runny and stuffed all at the same time, and my head completely fogged. One sentence in and I’m struggling. And they like to talk for hours.

I feel bad because I thought I would cope and I’m not, and they are obviously wanting to chat. The chat though is mainly about memories of decades ago. Most often the same ones over and over again. I am trying to encourage them to write them down so we don’t lose them, but they are reluctant for some reason. I’ve heard the same stories so many times I tune out now, and I’m sure if I was asked to recall them I wouldn’t be able to.

It is interesting this need for the old to reconnect themselves with the past and pass on the stories of times gone by. Research at Queens university (storytelling-allows-elders-…) shows that the retelling of old stories is a way for the older generation to transfer values to the new generation. Now whether those values are correct is another matter, the world moves on, changes, and often for the better. The fact that there was no electric light once doesn’t mean that electric light is bad. We’ve had some ‘interesting’ discussions on immigration, skin colour, living up to other peoples expectations even those you don’t actually know, and I’m just waiting for the conversation on gender and sex. That will be fun.

I’ve had to reinforce boundaries; I won’t listen to trash talking about others; I won’t here talk about people’s weight and body shaming; I don’t want to know several times a day that this person might be dead tomorrow (as an excuse NOT to live for today) and that people shouldn’t be allowed to live so long; I won’t listen to judgement of others etc. I simply walk away now. I won’t be a sounding board for bigotry. I feel shit for doing it though. I’m 57 and finally finding and sticking to my boundaries.

It feels like a competition sometimes, either the times they lived in were better than ours or worse, often in same story. There is no consistency. Our memories, feelings, knowledge seem unimportant. Maybe this is how they feel when we don’t give their stories enough reverence, when we state this is the third time in a couple of hours we have heard the same thing. When I have to leave or be rude as I have no more energy left. It’s a difficult path to tread when well, when ill I’m just not capable of it, with a cold on top of the ME and autism I’m decidedly struggling. I spend a couple of hours a day with them, that’s a couple of hours a day above and beyond my normal energy limits, so I am trying and paying for it. And I feel guilty about it, a lot.

We are trying out this relative living long term with us. I don’t think we shall follow through afterwards though. And it has provoked chats between us about our end of life care. Adults of my age seem to be keen on care facilities, sheltered housing etc. One friend’s husband wants to use euthanasia options. We don’t want our children, who will be much older themselves anyway, to have to cope with our care, just to come visit. We don’t want the responsibility of running and looking after a family home, to have to struggle. We are, or were until recently (thanks Tories), an aging population, with life expectancy on average of 80 years (Office for National Statistics), by the time we need care, our children may also be not far off needing it themselves. I don’t want that time be spent feeling beholden to my kids for looking after me. Whereas, this elderly relative is point blank refusing to consider any other option than staying in their own home. And they also refuse help in the form of a cleaner, or care worker etc, because they don’t want strangers in their house and don’t feel comfortable having to tell people what to do. Although I do understand it also seems pointless. I hate having strangers around but if a job needs doing, and you are paying someone to do it, then it’s worth it.

Well, I wanted to make this more positive but alas, ear wax flavoured diatribe it is. If you have any suggestions to help me through this period, to manage the interactions more comfortably for us all I’d love to know.

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