The Sandwich Generation doesn’t mean just taking care of your parents while you raise your children.  It means taking care of your parents’ siblings and their spouses, if there aren’t children capable of stepping up.

So, after taking care of our mom, tending to our our dad (still on-going), and my taking care of a childless couple who were surely as much family as any aunt or uncle, SOB (sister of blogger) and I need to focus on Mom’s brother and his non-wife of 60+ years.

We have to tread gently.   At my grandfather’s deathbed, he made me promise that I would take care of my aunt and uncle.  I made a promise.  A solemn oath.  SOB and I knew our responsibilities before Grandpa asked.  But a deathbed oath to a 99  year-old man has a depth and complexity and a moral imperative that cannot be expressed in mere words.

We know what our parents wanted/want for the end of their lives.  They made it as clear as possible.

We need to understand our uncle’s and aunt’s wishes, as they age and grow infirm.

But our aunt and uncle lived life on their terms and we have to learn those terms.  We will also have to learn things about their lives and their unfulfilled aspirations that children and nieces needn’t ever know.  Aside from the medical and logistical realities of failing relatives are the truths of their lives — their yearnings, their losses, their unrequited dreams, their failings and, we hope, their senses of triumph.   But we don’t know where this road leads.

Our goals are simple: maximum comfort and independence, and sense of fulfillment for our aging relatives.  We can strive to provide the first prong.

It is a religious, moral and social compact that binds the generations.  It is our sacred duty, even if the day-to-day makes us crazy (ok, crazier).  I will complain about it, I will always be mindful of, and grateful for, this compact.