My mother is in her late 70s and has metastatic cancer. My father died 15 years ago, and she lives alone across the country but remains independent. Her doctor estimates she has two to three years, though she could have less or much more — some patients live 10 years with metastatic cancer. Since her diagnosis, she has leaned into the more challenging aspects of her demanding personality. She now feels entitled to make demands that my sibling and I must accept because her time is limited. She wants to spend every holiday together and take big family trips. Next summer, for example, she wants my sibling and me, along with our partners and our children, to take an expensive vacation together for a week or two.
I have a young family, and while my husband and I are comfortable, we have limited means and time off and can generally take only one big vacation a year. Traveling with my mother is difficult and often ends in quarrels or tears. In short, it’s not fun. Before her diagnosis, we began to set clearer boundaries with my family, with whom we have a strained relationship, and started spending some holidays on our own. In response, my mother and sibling have branded us the “bad guys” for abandoning her.
I love my mother and have worked hard to remain close to her, but guilt has plagued our relationship. I am devastated by her prognosis and want to spend meaningful time with her — and I do — but the prospect of saying yes to every holiday, vacation and family gathering is daunting. I could be saying yes for two years or 10, sometimes at the expense of my nuclear family’s needs. Trips we want to take will have to be put on hold, and our desire to spend holidays apart from my family ignored. I don’t want to say no to everything, but I would like that option sometimes. My sibling says I’m wrong. What can I do? Am I a terrible daughter for saying no to my dying mother? — Name Withheld
From the Ethicist:
It’s perfectly fine to say that you want to spend your major annual holiday with your husband and children, or indeed, that you’d rather see your mother on your own. You should make accommodations for her, and she should for you; your wishes and needs matter, too.
At the same time, it’s worth trying to see what may lie behind some of her demands. A prognosis measured in years can distract from another reality: Before death comes dying. The time she has left is likely to include a period of increasing frailty, discomfort, dependence and confinement. Faced with the prospect of having much less usable time with the people she loves than she once imagined, she may feel a sense of urgency about gathering them around her. Her focus on shared vacations would seem to be her way of holding on to that family and filling the time she has with shared memories. That’s a deeply understandable desire, even if she’s expressing it in ways that are difficult for her children.
The idea of a holiday with the whole family could be a good one, if it had a real chance of going well. You think it could go badly, in part because of the storm and stress in your relations with your mother, and in part because your relations with your sibling are strained, as well. It seems to me that you should talk these things through with your mother, explaining that you want to spend meaningful time with her but that you may sometimes be happier, and closer to her, when you spend time together without the rest of the family. You might also think about other ways of giving her the companionship she seeks. You should tell her, gently but firmly, how you feel, and in turn listen to how she feels. (And anticipate that she will want to discuss your relationships with your sibling.) If you hope to be on better terms with her as she enters this last phase of her life, honesty and kindness will serve you both well.
So while you have reason to make a special effort to be present for her, you’re not obliged to organize your family life around her wishes. Nor would it serve anyone very well to plan a vacation around an image of family harmony that the trip is unlikely to sustain. Given that your sibling wants to help make your mother’s remaining years as good as they can be, perhaps all of you can think together about ways of spending time with her that have a real chance of bringing pleasure rather than pressure. That would probably be a better gift to her than a vacation that risks leaving everyone bruised and further apart.
Readers Respond
The previous question was from a reader who disagreed with her kids about etiquette in the internet age. She wrote:
My (grown) children and grandchildren find it inappropriate that, before a work or social event … I do a quick internet search for info on who will be there. My position is that the millions of people who post on social media — LinkedIn or Facebook, for example — assume their posts will be read, so I am not invading their privacy. My research provides fodder for conversations and building relationships, in some cases beginning with how to pronounce names. It’s not as if I am examining F.B.I. files or classified information! Is it unethical for me to do some digging before I meet people? — Name Withheld
In his response, the Ethicist noted
There are certainly reasons to be cautious about letting an internet search condition your encounters with people. … Although a LinkedIn profile is meant to be read by people who haven’t met you yet, a Facebook page may be addressed to a circle of friends and family. … Then again, modest preparation can be useful. Learning how to pronounce someone’s name, reading a professional bio or discovering a shared interest can make conversation easier. Sometimes the information you find will also suggest topics to avoid or sensitivities to bear in mind. … You’d do well to stick to information that is plainly public and relevant and to allow people to tell their own stories. You probably don’t want to begin a conversation by saying, “I see from Facebook that you really don’t like Chihuahuas.” Your children are right to think that advance research can become creepy. You’re right to think that it doesn’t have to be.
(Reread the full question and answer here.)
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I think Googling a person before meeting is creepy. Why not let people divulge information? I met a man through an app recently. On our date, he told me he knew where I lived. I was taken aback. My female friends do this to find out someone’s income level. It feels like a job interview instead of getting to know someone. — Cari
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Years ago, I found it fascinating to look at mug shots in our local news online. That is, until I saw a photo of my boss, whom I liked and respected. I didn’t know the circumstances of the arrest, so I decided not to judge, or to mention what I had seen to my boss or anyone else. What you see online isn’t necessarily the whole truth or even something you want to know, even if it is public information. — Susan
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My first thought had to do with our contemporary world that seems to have forgotten about the mystery, wonder, surprise and the meaningfulness of spontaneous, face-to-face engagement with our fellow human beings. In our modern technological age governed by the wish for prediction and control, have we lost our capacity for simply being with one another? My second thought led me to wonder what keeps the writer so attached to such diligent preparations. What’s the feeling and motivation? Anxiety? Ambition? Something else? I would have gently invited them to engage in some kind but honest self reflection. — Erik
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Many years ago, before the internet, I knew a physician for 25 years and only in his obituary did I learn that he was a decorated World War II paratrooper. Many people are modest and you won’t know their achievements or areas of interest that you may share with them. I have searched people before and after meeting them based on that previous experience. I do, however, admit to people that I do such searches with good intent. — Murray
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Younger generations are always finding something their elders do is creepy! Your reasons for doing so are solid and are a way to help keep you connected with the world. — Kathryn
The post My Mother Is Dying. Does That Mean I Have to Do Everything She Asks? appeared first on New York Times.
