Out of Town Hero Syndrome is when out of town relatives swoop in town and begin to tell YOU how to care give.

They come once or twice a year (thank goodness, not more) and rearrange everything from your medicine cabinet to your car's glove compartment while proceeding to tell you (in subtle and not so subtle back stabs) how you could, should give better care--to mom or dad.

You're there 365 days a year. They're there for 10.

You're nice at first. Keep peace, you tell yourself...but by day three you're about to blow a gasket.

If your loved one has to go to the doctor or is in the hospital or in hospice and it's near the end--then it's ten times worse. They run the show. The doctors and nurses speak to them. Especially if they're an older sibling--then you're really in for it.

By the time they leave you can barely find your own socks.

You're angry, frustrated--and worse--your confidence has been undermined.

You start to doubt yourself.

You just want to quit. Fine then--take mom--take dad.

"Do it all yourself and I'll come back this time next year and boss YOU around for ten days."

That's what you'd like to say.

On top of that--your mom or dad like them MORE.

They get the smiles, holding hands, pleasantries you haven't seen in months--they sit at the table and gab like you do this every night and you feel like such a hypocrite. They're all in the livingroom talking after dinner--and where are you?

Loading the dishwasher.

I didn't have siblings, but I experienced this with several relatives who came into see mom--twice--once each in more than two years.

I went off for the day to give them time alone and when I had come home this person (no names) had reorganized my pantry and all my kitchen cabinets. She took me in there by the hand and showed me everything she had done and explained why her system should work better. I had to stand there like a ten year old in trouble and agree, yes, her system was better and I was a piece of ...well, you know.

I was so stressed, angry and nervous by the time she left I thought I'd collapse in a heap on the floor when she pulled out of the driveway. On top of that, I knew my mother had complained her head off about me--not taking her to church, drinking wine (my mother was a fundamentalist minister), watching movies with curse words, letting my daughters wear those short shorts...you name it.

The next time this happened was with a good friend of mine. My mother ate her up like she was homemade vanilla ice cream. They chatted and laughed--my friend washed my mother's hair and did her nails.

Made me sick.

I had asked my friend to come down to help me and this felt like betrayal. I know she didn't mean to but that's how it felt.

I felt judged--and poorly lacking.

Mother hadn't said a kind word to me in weeks and now she was a geyser of compliments.

Then I heard them whispering. Mother was crying (fake crying) and saying she wished I were sweeter, kinder, more patient, that she didn't know what she had done to make me act so cold to her.

My friend came out and a very concerned voice told me I needed to make up with my mother and forgive her.

I thought my head would split open. I felt betrayed by everyone.

Mother was up to her old manipulation tricks--and I knew this full well having experienced it countless time in forty years.

I told my friend she really had no idea what was really going on here and that I needed her to respect and trust me.

Later, she apologized. Her father got Alzheimer's and she dealt with her own family issues. She really didn't have anything to apologize for. I knew how mother had played her, but I understood.

I share all this with you to say this about relatives in town or out who make you question yourself:

Know deep inside you are a good person--a good daughter, son, spouse--and let no one shake you on this

Stop worrying about what other people think about you and your caregiving.

It's none of your business what others think of you. (How freeing is that?!?)

You're care giving because you believe it's the right thing to do. You have to give care the way you can--the way you can be consistent, they way that's right for you and your loved one.

Stand firm on this and don't listen to other's opinions. 

Unless they have done this for as long as you have, they can't possibly comprehend the level of sacrifice, committment, love, tenacity, and exhaustion you've endured.

Caregiving is a marathon not a sprint.

You may feel yourself pulling away from people.

That's part of caregiving.

You'll naturally pull in--for good and not so good reasons.

You'll get tired of explaining yourself.

You'll get tired of trying to be nice to people.

You'll get tired of feeling that everything you do is up for scrutiny.

You'll get strong and stop needing others to validate you or what you're doing.

That's the bottom line.

Your relatives, friends and neighbors will intimidate you just so far and then you'll find your backbone and stand your ground.

This is one of the best lessons of caregiving that can change you and how you deal with others for the rest of your life.

The anger and hurt will dissapte. In time.

These situations and people that threaten you will give you a gift--you'll find your own confidence.

You'll be in your own quiet center.

You will become strong, independent, and do what you need to do and you won't give a rip what others think.

~Carol D. O'Dell

Author of Mothering Mother: A Daughter's Humorous and Heartbreaking Memoir

available on Amazon

www.mothering-mother.com

Kunati Publishing, www.kunati.com/caroldodell

Family Advisor on www.Caring.com

Syndicated blog on www.OpentoHope.com

Elder suicide rates are up in the United States and it usually start with depression–also a major factor in the elderly. Contributing factors are life debilitating illnesses, loss of spouse, career, a terminal diagnosis, change in living conditions and medications that exacerbate the situation.

It’s not the family legacy most of us aspire to.

Depression affects approximately 19 million Americans per year, (National Institutes of Mental Health, 2000).

Depression is often not recognized in the elderly because the symptoms can be attributed to ”normal aging.” How sad, that we have come to believe that melancholy, lethargy and apathy are connected to older age.

Nearly 6% of the people in the United States over the age of 65 have a diagnosable form of depression, and while adults age 65 make up only 13 percent of the U.S. population, they account for 20 percent of all suicide deaths.

We should be more alarmed.

Who is most at risk? Our dads. Our husbands. Our brothers.

Male Caucasian are the over the age of 85 are the the highest suicide rate in the nation (National Institute of Mental Health, 2000). But don’t think mom is out of danger. While men tend to be more violent in their attempts, women tend to lead toward pills.

They’re also not talking. Elders are not like teenagers who threaten, make dramatic attempts in order to stopped (subconsciously). Many elders are not comfortable talking about mental illness and so they suffer intense feelings of loss, hopelessness and despair alone–never realizing there is help. They don’t have to feel this way.

Factors that Lead to Suicide:

• Recent loss of a spouse, loved one, or pet
• Debilitating or life-threatening illness
• Pain, especially if pain is severe, chronic, and/or inescapable
• Loss of independence and/or mobility
• Inability to live alone
• Loss of employment or productive activities
• Financial difficulties
• Depression
• Alcohol abuse and/or dependence
• Loss of role or stature in family and community
• Feelings of hopelessness and helplessness
• Physical, social, and emotional isolation

• Statements about death and suicide
• Reading material about death and suicide
• Statements of hopelessness or helplessness (e.g., “I don’t know if I can go on.”)
• Disruption of sleep patterns
• Increased alcohol or prescription drug use
• Failure to take care of self or follow medical orders
• Stockpiling medications
• Sudden interest in firearms
• Social withdrawal or elaborate good-byes
• Rush to complete or revise a will
• Overt suicide threats

• Be aware of your elder’s emotional state
• Be sensitive in times of a new loss, such as the loss of a beloved pet or dear friend
• Consider filtering the news–more negativity about the state of the world, wars, and the economy might not be the best thing for any of us to focus on
• Make a list of who your elder or spouse is most likely to talk to–a priest or pastor, a close friend, a nurse or doctor they’re closest to–let this person know of your concerns and ask them to listen closely for tell-tale signs.
• If you’re truly concerned, then talk openly about your concerns of depression and the risk of suicide. Don’t think you’ll cause suicide by talking about it.
• Let them know that their thoughts and feelings are normal, that despair is common, and that there are people who care who can help, that part of their feelings are triggered by life events, but also diseases and medication play into this.
• Let them know you’re not judging them. Life is hard. But this is not an option. You are there to help. There are medications, people to talk to, that their thoughts and feelings can change. Life is full of changes and this situation doesn’t have to stay the same.

I’m Afraid to Broach the Subject:

• They will get angry with me or deny it. So what if they do? This is too important and the risk is worth it. You don’t want all your love, time and caregiving to end this way. You don’t want this blow to hit you and your loved ones.
• I might put the suicidal thoughts into their heads. If your loved one is having suicidal thoughts, then they’ve probably been having them for weeks, months, or even years. For many people, depression is a lifelong battle and this may not be the first time they’ve found themselves in this debilitating emotional state. It is extremely unlikely that a caring question from another would convince a person, whether truly depressed or not, to commit suicide.

• I won’t know what to say. I know, this is tough. Bungle your way through it. Don’t think you’ll handle this perfect. You have no experience (I hope). Your love and emotions will come through no matter what words you are able to get out. It’s not your words that will convince them to get help–it’s your love and concern.

• Suicide greatly affects your life and other family members. Suicide ripples into the fabric of humanity. It’s a devastating blow for those nearby, so do all you can to prevent this tragedy.

• End of life and palliative care (to reduce pain during the last weeks and days of dying) is a different subject. This is a highly controversial area and one that should be handled privately with your “council of elders” (family, chaplain other faith leader, hospice, etc.).

How to Help Someone Who is Deeply Depressed and May Be Suicidal:

• Be sensitive, honest and straightforward. Come right out and ask: “Dad, I’ve been worried about you lately. You seem pretty down. I’ve noticed that you aren’t seeing your friends any more, and you’ve talked about not wanting to go on. Would you really want to die?”)
• Listen. After you’ve opened the discussion, then let them talk. Listen–listen all day long, ask questions that will encourage them to continue to talk and open up. Caregiving is more about listening than it is a to-do list.
• Seek help yourself–dealing with someone who is suicidal kicks up all kinds of emotions, particularly if they’re your spouse or parent or other close family member. Talk to your pastor or doctor or call a suicide hot line and let them know what you’re dealing with. Alzheimer’s Association and other organizations also have great hotlines with people who care, who know what it’s like to deal with depression and stress on top of a horrific disease. Reach out.

What If I Find Out They Are Contemplating Suicide:

• Do your homework. Make sure you know about the resources available in your area:
• Check the front of your telephone directory–or the Internet,as well as your local community mental health unit. They often have suicide hotlines and emergency inpatient crisis stabilization units available if the danger of suicide is high.
• Let your elder/spouse’s doctor know. Certain diseases and medications can aggravate the situation.
• A psychologist, psychiatrist or other therapist is another good option but c heck with your insurance as to what is covered.

Practical Things To Do Immediately:

• Get the guns out of the house
• Monitor all medications, including your own
• Stay close by. If you’re in a particularly dangerous time, monitor them 24/7 by granny cam/baby monitors
• Take threats serious and cause a fuss–make it unappealing to try again
• Get help immediately if there is an attempt. Don’t worry about embarrassment–this is bigger than that.

~Carol D. O’Dell

Author of Mothering Mother: A Daughter’s Humorous and Heartbreaking Memoir

available on Amazon

www.mothering-mother.com

Family Advisor at www.Caring.com

Syndicated blog at www.OpentoHope.com

It doesn’t matter who my father was; it matters who I remember he was.” — Anne Sexton

It’s my dad who taught me about caregiving–a fancy term for just being a family. I can remember that Sunday afternoons were for visiting family–we visited his sister, brothers, nieces–and if anyone were in the hospital, Daddy went every day. Every day. Faithful and tireless. As big and tough as he was, he was a teddy when it came to family.

This weekend, if you have your dad–call him, hug him, make him smile.

Even the most tangled relationships have something to be thankful for.

Find a way to celebrate. I’m all for celebrations–life has a enough tragedies and I see it all as a giant algebra problem–I need to balance the sides–move something over and prove to the universe that it all adds up.

I hope you enjoy the things I’ve gathered about Father’s Day.

Feel free to email me back and let’s add to the list!

Great Dads Throughout History:

Marcus Aurileus, was the adoptive son of Annius Verus and is known as the “Philosopher-King.” The youth’s education embraced both rhetoric and philosophy; his manner was serious, his intellectual pursuits deep and devoted, so that the emperor Hadrian took an interest in him and called him “Verissimus,” “Most truthful.” He is considered one of Rome’s and history’s most thoughtful leaders.

Jose Marti is the father of freedom in Cuba.

Muhammed Ali is one of the greatest boxers in history and a loving father. Also, George Foreman who has a new book out about fathers where his greatest advice is “spend time” with your children–that’s your legacy.

J.R.R. Tolkien was a wonderful father who wrote many letters to his sons.

Albert Einstein was the father of modern science.

George Washington was the childless father of our country.

Nelson Mandela is the father of freedom in South Africa.

A.A. Milne based the character Christopher Robin in his Winnie-the-Pooh stories on his own son.

Jim Henson’smuppets and television show, Sesame Street, thrilled millions of children, including his own, who now carry on his tradition.

Martin Luther King, Jr. fathered American Civil Rights and believed that love, not violence, was the most powerful weapon.

Michael Jordan is a champion and a hero because he plays basketball with all his heart for his team, his family and his father.

Great Father Quotes:

“It no longer bothers me that I may be constantly searching for father figures; by this time, I have found several and dearly enjoyed knowing them all.” — Alice Walker

“None of you can ever be proud enough of being the child of SUCH a Father who has not his equal in this world-so great, so good, so faultless. Try, all of you, to follow in his footsteps and don’t be discouraged, for to be really in everything like him none of you, I am sure, will ever be. Try, therefore, to be like him in some points, and you will have acquired a great deal.” — Victoria, Queen of England

“That is the thankless position of the father in the family-the provider for all, and the enemy of all.” — J. August Strindberg

“It is a wise father that knows his own child.” — William Shakespeare

“One father is more than a hundred schoolmasters.” — English Proverb

“To be a successful father . . . there’s one absolute rule: when you have a kid, don’t look at it for the first two years.” — Ernest Hemingway

“A man knows when he is growing old because he begins to look like his father.” — Gabriel García Márquez

“I cannot think of any need in childhood as strong as the need for a father’s protection.” — Sigmund Freud

“I watched a small man with thick calluses on both hands work fifteen and sixteen hours a day. I saw him once literally bleed from the bottoms of his feet, a man who came here uneducated, alone, unable to speak the language, who taught me all I needed to know about faith and hard work by the simple eloquence of his example.” — Mario Cuomo

“Be kind to thy father, for when thou wert young,
Who loved thee so fondly as he?
He caught the first accents that fell from thy tongue,
And joined in thy innocent glee.”
– Margaret Courtney

“If the new American father feels bewildered and even defeated, let him take comfort from the fact that whatever he does in any fathering situation has a fifty percent chance of being right.” — Bill Cosby

“Blessed indeed is the man who hears many gentle voices call him father!” — Lydia M. Child

“When I was a boy of fourteen, my father was so ignorant I could hardly stand to have the old man around. But when I got to be twenty-one, I was astonished by how much he’d learned in seven years.” –

Mark Twain

Great Father’s Day Links:

http://wilstar.com/holidays/fathers.htm

http://www.history.com/minisite.do?

Happy Daddy’s Day~

~Carol D. O’Dell

Author of Mothering Mother: A Daughter’s Humorous and Heartbreaking Memoir

available on Amazon Kunati Publishers, www.kunati.com

www.motheirng-mother.com

Family Advisor on www.Caring.com

Syndicated blog at www.OpentoHOpe.com

Posted in Alzheimer's, Daddy, Father's Day, abc.com, affection, authors, books, boomer women, care partner, care receiver, caregiver, caregiving, daughters, elder care, faith, family, family caregiving | Tagged fathers, great fathers in history, history channel, quotes, roman emporers | 1

I have a father and a daddy. My birth father gave me life, and my adoptive daddy gave me life. Both men are important to me, and I've stopped trying to compare. But only one truly has my heart.

My Daddy died at the average age men die in the US (78 years old), from the most common disease men die from–heart disease. Yet, Daddy was anything but typical. He was a big teddy bear of a guy who made my world right again.

I was adopted at the age of four years old–and my early years weren’t easy. My birth mother suffered from schizophrenia (severely and eventually permanently hospitalized), and addiction to alcohol and gambling choked all the life out of my birth father. My sister and I lived with my father’s co-dependent/enabler grandmother and was abused by a boarder who lived in her house. Not a great beginning.

I don’t share this with you to make you uncomfortable or to get sympathy points because my life didn’t stay that way. I was adopted and received layer after layer of personal healing and insights that allow me to incorporate this experience into my being.

Healing took a long, long time.

My adoptive Daddy was a big part of that. He was 54 and Mama was 50 when they adopted me. That’s taking a big chance–but it also shows what a void they had to fill.

He died when I was 23 years old. Too young for him to die–and too young for me. But he isn’t really gone.

He has become a part of me now–his songs, his stories, his gestures, his wisdom–I carry him every day.

I can see him just as clear as the first time I ever saw him. I see him just like I did when I was six and playing baseball in the backyard–he was sitting my lawn chair pitcher. I broke his garage window. Don’t know that he got too upset.

I remember the summer we had contest and ate 38 watermelons. He told me vines were going to shoot out my ears. I hoped it would.

I remember when I was 12 and just starting to like boys–Daddy drove me to the skating rink each Saturday night and picked me up at 11:00. I know he really didn’t want to get dressed and traipse out that late, but he did. I remember when he asked me if that boy kissed me. I lied and said, “No, Daddy.” He knew. I knew. But I couldn’t say the words–not to my dad.

I remember when I brought home countless boyfriends and the disgusting look he’d hide behind his newspaper. No one was ever good enough for his little sweety-pie.

Eventually, one was, and I married him. He loves my dad as much as I do. That’s why we’re still married–he reminds me of that honorable man who changed my life and he’s the daddy to our three girls. His face lights up when his daughters just walk into the room. His face lights up when I walk into the room–that’s why I keep him.

I never got to be my dad’s caregiver the way I did with my mom. But I promised him we would take care of her. That promise got me through some rough times.

I hope you enjoy a short excerpt from my forthcoming book, SAID CHILD.

It’s about our night time ritual and coming home after church. (Being raised in church means I have many, many memories of life on the pew). Perhaps this excerpt will spark one of your own favorite memories. The greatest thing we can do for our dads on Father’s Day is simply to remember.

Enjoy!

Excerpt from SAID CHILD:

Daddy slid next to us after his usher and elder duties of collecting and counting the money were complete. We’d all squeeze into the pew making room and he’d have to pull on his coat a few times to get comfortable. He’d reach in his shirt pocket and in one continuous smooth move, a gold package of Butter Rum Life Savers appeared and the fleshy underbelly of my tongue salivated. I got one, he got one and he’d wink. Mama preferred peppermint. Peppermint reminded me of the nausea of backseat card rides.

I’d roll the butter rum disk around in my mouth and hold it vertical between my teeth, my tongue reading the raised letters as if in Braille. I’d lay my head against Daddy’s arm, recognizing the texture of his different suits, and then he’d put his arm around me and poke his finger in my ear. I brush it away and he’d smile without looking at me. I snuggled up waiting for my butter rum Life Saver to dissolve so I could get another one. As the preacher’s words droned on and on, I knew we’d never make it home in time to see the Sunday night Disney movie. We never did. Missing all my favorite TV shows was the worst part to me. I’d have to run a fever or throw-up to get to stay home.

Daddy covered my legs with his jacket and patted me until the sounds and lights muffled, dimming into soft shades of gold as I watched my eyelashes fold again and again, the world now fuzzy and black. I barely remembered most of the car ride home on Sunday nights and Daddy would place me between the cool sheets long after I was too big to be carried, my lanky legs scraping the bed and the quilt slid in place.

Daddy half-whispered, half-growled, “My baby done gone to sleep, Lord bless my little sweety-pie.”

He’d sing me to sleep and I’d always ask for Mr. Moon.

Oh Mr. Moon, Moon, bright and shinin’ moon,

Oh won’t you please shine down on me.

For my life’s in danger and I’m scared to run,

There’s a man behind me with me with a big shot gun,

Oh Mr. Moon, Moon, bright and shinin’ moon, oh won’t you please shine down on me. Boom, boom, boom.

***

The power of a great dad changes a child’s life. And it keeps changing it. Even after our dads are no longer walking on this earth. Whispered wisdom, needed advice, family traditions and that sense of security never goes away.

~Carol D. O’Dell

Author of Mothering Mother: A Daughter’s Humorous and Heartbreaking Memoir

available on Amazon

www.mothering-mother.com

Family advisor at www.Caring.com

Syndicated blog at www.OpentoHope.com

www.kunati.com, publishers