Caregiving is a broad term. It can mean anything from a one-time grocery run to a 24/7 commitment that takes over your life.
It’s never as intense as existing between the layers of two generations that need your help. If you’re familiar with the term ‘sandwich generation,’ you’ll understand what I mean. On one end of the sandwich generation are aging loved ones (usually a parent or two, maybe also in-laws), and at the other end is a younger generation that still depends on you (kids, grandkids, and whatnot). In that whirlwind of being needed, the middle of the sandwich has to exist in their own right - working, caring for themselves, maintaining their own relationships, hobbies, jobs, pets, homes, and so on.
Caregiving is never straightforward. Needs change and people burn out. We each need support, kindness, and flexibility. If we are a singular force, taking care of everyone without expressing our own needs, we can become sick, hurt, and emotionally fried. Sometimes, all a caregiver wants is an hour to themselves where nobody asks them anything. As the parent to two elementary school-aged children, I relish moments where I can just mindlessly scroll on my phone for a few minutes, watching videos of cats without interruption. It can happen! But the burnout is real.
My father passed away decades ago, and my mom lives in Montreal. I don’t entirely identify as a sandwich generation person because of the physical distance between me and my surviving parent, but I do have a bit of spice in my generational sandwich. I have an older sister (also in Montreal) who lives with severe autism and a mood disorder that subjects her to occasional bouts of violence. She lives in a home with around-the-clock caretakers, and will never be able to live independently. I think often about what will happen once my mom can no longer be there for her in the same capacity as she always has been.
Mom visits my sister once a week for lunch, and she’s always there for birthdays and holidays. My sister has a hefty, packed schedule of appointments and medication assessments, day programs, activities, meals, and so on. My mom is there for every doctor's and emergency room visit. I don’t know what will happen when she can no longer do these things for my sister. And at that point, will my mom be needing help herself?
My parents were sandwiched between my aging grandparents, me, and my sister. My grandparents lived well into their 90s, so it was a very large sandwich - more like an overstuffed sub. In that time, I went to university, moved out, married and began a family of my own. I also moved to the other side of the country, putting four massive provinces between me and my family.
My mom has never had the opportunity to have reprieve from the sandwich. With all grandparents now gone, she’s more of an open-faced Reuben (that’s a fun Montreal reference). My sister has a well-oiled care system in Quebec, and with my work schedule and kids in Calgary, I can’t take over my mom’s tasks when she is no longer able to. My mom would never move to Calgary to stay with us, because she will not leave my sister behind, and moving my sister across the country is out of the question.
Caring for caregivers who have complicated needs, like distance and massive prior obligations, takes an emotional and mental toll. There are no easy answers. Perhaps my personal generational sandwich is more of a cosmic stew. Luckily, I work somewhere that supports situations that don’t fit neatly in a box.
One of the many things I love about Unison is the attention we give to caregivers. We host presentations and workshops on caring for the caregiver regularly throughout the year. Our Adult Day Program gives caregivers respite while our amazing staff cares for their older adult. Our Wellness Connection Centre has support groups for caregivers, and wonderful activities like laughter yoga to help shake off layers of stress. I have attended one such laughter yoga class, and the memory itself always cracks a big smile.
Caregivers give of themselves - including giving things they also need, like time, energy, love, attention, and grace. You usually get more when you give, but if you don’t also receive care that lifts your spirit, then you will probably give until your tank is empty.
This August, take a moment to reflect on the people who have cared for you, and show them gratitude. Find some way to make them smile. Maybe in a literal act of thanks, treat them to their favourite sandwich! The Reuben in the Kerby Café is one of the best I’ve ever had, and as a Montrealer, I feel I can make such a claim. It pairs well with fries and a heaping dash of gratitude!