Old Age Ain't for Sissies

[+ WilliamM]

Even on her worst days, my mother was pleasant and grateful for the support of her immediately and extended families. She did not want to move to a nursing home, but realized arguing with my brother and me would make the situation worse. She was happy to see visitors and never complained when people visited infrequently. She was the youngest of eight children, and lived 15 longer than her siblings. But, she always made the best of each situation. I was glad when she died at age 91, because by then she had little short term memory & it was not how she wanted to live.

[+ Charlie]

I'm curious... are there any here who have found themselves being a caretaker for an ageing parent who has refused to accept them as being gay? If so, have you ever wondered, as you help them with their meds or roll them down the hall in their wheelchair, why the f*** am I doing this?

Although I told my parents I was gay when I was 19, and my mother lived with my partner and me for several years in her old age, sex and sexual orientation were subject we never discussed after that first revelation. To the end of her life, she kept framed photos of me with two of my straight female friends on her dresser, even though she barely knew them. I was an only child, and I think she could never give up the delusion that one day she would have grandchildren.

 

My partner's mother was in similar denial that her two older sons were gay, even though both of them lived in obvious domestic partnerships for many years, and one of them and his partner raised the partner's biological children together. Our mothers were of the same generation, and their sons' sexual orientation was one of those things that they just couldn't acknowledge, even to themselves.

[foxy]

When my partner died a few years ago (we had been together for 42 years) I was visiting my widowed aunt who was 97 at the time. Still in the process of grief, I found myself referring to my partner as "my husband". This was the first time I'd ever said that to my aunt. She just looked at me blankly. I said "you do know I'm gay don't you?" I'm sure there was an edge to my voice. I went on to tell her that I started going to a small local Episcopal church. The priest was openly gay and accepted by his parish that included a few gay couples with young children. I had been raised Catholic but I'd given that up a long time ago. I thought maybe it was time to give religion a try again and would be a comfort during my grief process. My aunt is a devout Catholic. I told her about my joining this Episcopal church. Several days later I was talking on the phone to my sister. She had received a phone call from my aunt who was crying. She said "your brother told me something that has upset me very much" my sister said "you mean about him telling you that he's gay?" My aunt said "no, that's fine with me. It's that he's become a Protestant".

[+ poolboy48220]

Years ago, there was a flyer on the wall in the coffee room at work for a Gay Jewish organization. This was early 90's, I wasn't out yet, and the company didn't strike me as very gay friendly. I was looking at it while getting coffee, and a friend came in. I joked something about "Wow, people might see me reading that & think I'm Jewish".

 

A couple years later, when I did start coming out, I ran into this same guy at the gay bar :-)

[+ FreshFluff]

I'm curious... are there any here who have found themselves being a caretaker for an ageing parent who has refused to accept them as being gay? If so, have you ever wondered, as you help them with their meds or roll them down the hall in their wheelchair, why the f*** am I doing this?

 

I'm really sorry to hear it, Sundayzip. Can't even imagine.

[kewtex]

My mom and dad are 85. Other than church and the grocery store, most of their outings are to the doctor or funerals. My mom told me recently she doubted they had any friends younger than 70; we laughed to ease the fear and sadness.

 

A part of me refuses to accept the fact my mom and dad will die. It is difficult to image that some day I will have to continue making my way through life without the certainty of them being there for me.

[+ Charlie]

It is equally painful for aged parents to imagine going on after losing their children.