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When concerns about “safety” become a way to control aging parents.
Reading the advice columns in the newspaper used to be relaxing. They were full of small social puzzles about holiday cards, dinner parties, or the etiquette of exchanging gifts with the neighbors. I was always reminded of the time a former first lady told the press that the White House was having a “tablecloth crisis.”
Now some of these letters make my blood run cold.
This morning, the Chrome feed included a spine-chilling Annie Lane column with the headline: “My children are trying to push me into assisted living.” (I’d never heard of Annie Lane, but apparently she’s a nationally syndicated columnnist.)
The letter writer was in her early eighties, living independently in a house she loved. She has neighbors who check in on her. A few months ago, she had a minor fall. She still drives at night. And yes, she sometimes misplaces her keys, just like countless people in their twenties and thirties.
Her children say they are concerned about her “safety.” But they also mention the time it takes to drive and see her. In other words, she has become a burden.
Worst of all, the letter says: “One of them even suggested they could step in if I refuse, which made me feel panicked and furious.”
Reading that made me very glad I do not have children.
Lane writes, “Your children are speaking the language of fear, and you are speaking the language of home.”
No. Her children are speaking the language of control.
What they are really saying is this: We are tired of worrying about you. We are tired of the time it takes to visit you. You are a burden.
She is speaking the language of independence and autonomy. In other words, she is speaking the language of living.
So many people and so many institutions prioritize “safety” over “making life worth living.”
In many hospitals and rehabilitation centers, there is such enormous concern about falls that patients are forced to remain in their beds. Instead of moving around and maintaining strength, they become weaker and less capable. I have often wondered why facilities do not simply pad the floors so that a fall would be less harmful.
Yes, if this woman moves into assisted living, she may be safer. But safe for what?
She could break a bone and need care. She could break a hip, which can lead to long hospital stays and sometimes death. But as long as she understands the risks and is willing to accept them, the decision should be hers.
Lane offers a series of platitudes about negotiating with the children, reassuring them that she will take steps to remain safe. That advice feels infantilizing. Why should she have to explain herself to her children?
What this woman really needs is a lawyer. Her lawyer, not the children’s lawyer.
She should remove her children from responsibility for her care and from her will. That would certainly get their attention.
I am not a lawyer, so I do not know exactly how this works. She may need time and energy to find the right attorney. She may even risk losing access to her beloved grandchildren.
But I suspect that once a lawyer becomes involved, the children will suddenly become more reasonable.
As for driving at night, that question remains between her and her optometrist. True, an impaired driver could injure others. But age alone is not always the deciding factor.
When I lived in Seattle, a bus driver once told me about an eighty-year-old man who was still driving a city bus. (If you know Seattle, it was the low traffic Queen Anne route, and yes, he drove at night.)
Meanwhile, YouTube contains endless videos of teenagers and people in their twenties killing someone while driving under the influence of alcohol or drugs. Perhaps we should worry about them first.
The column ends with a self-righteous statement: “Independence is not proved by refusing help. It is proven by choosing the right help at the right time.”
There is nothing in the letter to suggest that this woman refuses help. She even mentions neighbors who check on her.
And her children are not offering help. If they were, they might offer to pay for services. Maybe they could buy a gift certificate to a taxi service or Uber so she wouldn’t need to drive at night. They could bring in repair people, hire a cleaning service, or arrange grocery delivery. She may not need those services yet, but she should feel free to ask.
Instead, what the children want is control.
They want to be free of the burden of driving to see her. They want to be free of the burden of worry and guilt.
But freedom from worry is not the same thing as caring, and it certainly is not the same thing as respect.
In taking away her freedom, they are taking away her life.
Holding a gun to her head would not be much different.
