<p>When my Mom was in Independent an then Assisted Living/Memory Care, a four-year journey, I just continued my same pattern since marriage of visiting 2x/year for a week, plus phone calls weekly as I’ve always lived 8-10 hours drive away. The calls got distressing until I began to talk things over with my brothers who lived near her. We’d share notes and assess her degree of deterioration (question repeats, mostly but then social isolation and heavy drinking). They gave me tips on how they handled some of her more bizarre new behaviors. I’d skype into the monthly meeting that the facility held for families of residents, where social workers presented a different topic to educate us. My older bro got sick himself, so checked out emotionally of the Mom-care team. </p>
<p>When she moved into my younger brother’s home, because we felt the AL wasn’t worth the money, over those 7 months I went 3x for 2-3 week live-in periods to take his place in his home so he could go away on much needed, much deserved vacations. with his S.O., who is a saint and helps care for my Mom. The other option of sending Mom to me was impossible, because she couldn’t adjust to new routines. Fortunately I was no longer teaching so could DO that. That was like doing 3 nursing shifts, and I realized up close what my bro and his S.O. were doing all this time. Phenomenal amount of work.</p>
<p>When we put her into a fulltime skilled nursing home, I changed the visits to a half-week every 2 months. My brother was gracious to house me,. Those were valuable times because he was very skilled with establishing emotional boundaries and taught me how to do that. By then our older brother was living in a different nursing home with terminal diagnosis, so everyone is on overload now. </p>
<p>When my Mom was in her earlier stages of decline, all 3 of us sibs could work on things together. One thing we did was pledge not to war with each other over her care, or second guess each other. I did feel as though I “saw” things when I came to town that they were missing, perhaps as the only daughter. For example, I was railing about the impact of her alcoholism on her memory loss for years before my brothers would agree it a problem and intervene. As the out-of-towner they thought I couldn’t possibly know more than they who saw her week in, week out. And yet, most of the big changes in her care situation were kick-started by my visits. But I had to work hard to get my brothers to agree, as they saw it all more in a slow-motion sliding scale. I’d come in with months of no-see and the dramatic changes would be very obvious to me. I had to learn to express things by prefacing with words of support for all they were doing, because IN FACT they were doing much more than me. But, I believe I was more observant than they of big shifts. </p>
<p>The greatest gift my in-towner brothers gave me was to make me feel that I was “part of the team” and not a bossy visitor. My gift was to listen to them vent by phone conferences, go and “spell” them to take vacations, call extra on the phone for another tedious/repetitive Mom conversation when they’d simply had enough of her for that week. I had patience to listen by phone in lots of detail with her, something they never do because it makes them crazy. They were all about the 30-second convo to hear her problem which they’d go to fix (girl boy gap there, I suppose) by heading to the grocery, bank, whatever. We did very different things but respected each other for the effort.</p>
<p>Establishing boundaries is essential but it can feel brutal. There are times when my brother has to warn my Mom he’ll hang up on her if she harangues him once more on that call, and then he follows through. Do we sound like the kind who’d hang up on our Mom? And yet, I understand now why he does. When it’s been the sixth call that day about some irrational request, it has to happen or he’d just implode – and he’s doing all the time for her. Brutal on him, but he must. </p>
<p>Siblings are a great help if they can get over themselves and recognize all that the other is doing, whether in or out of town. I’m just lucky not to have a slacker-sibling and feel very sorry for any of us who do. </p>