Families are Full of Lies

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Families are full of lies, small and large, consequential and insignificant. In my family, we have an insignificant running joke about the cost of anything we purchase:

Q: How much was the dress? Me: $100.

Q: How much was the designer handbag? Me: $100.

Q:  How much was the trip to Morocco? Me: $100.

My mother used to do this to my grandmother, not wishing to earn the tsk of depression-era concern. In turn, I did it to my grandmother as well. Now I do it to HJ too, although (obviously) Mom knows when I’ve artfully removed a trailing zero. So, we are all complicit in perpetuating these white lies. In the end, the cost of any item was far less important than understanding we had gotten a fair price or, better, a bargain. And this was a little bit of our family tradition.

There’s another tradition we have that’s repeated in lots of families: We lie about our health. Theoretically, what they don’t know won’t keep them up at night. And I suppose that’s a form of love, albeit a strange way to show it.

Hurricane Jackie has a long and impressive history of lying about her health to her mother. They were very close and spoke every morning at 7 a.m. Many years ago, when HJ was in the hospital for a procedure, I was under strict instructions to call the hospital room at 6:55 a.m. to ensure she was awake and would call her mother from her bed. It was essential that Grandma Margie not know that HJ wasn’t calling her from the kitchen at home.

When she lived in Florida, she also lied like a rug about how she and my father were doing as he declined from dementia. As a result, I ran down to Florida every few weeks to inspect them like they were chickens. She could not be trusted. Her response: What does it matter? What would you do?

Fair is fair: I didn’t tell her I had laparoscopic surgery until after it was over, and I was home eating soup.

Parents don’t tell children what’s really going on because they don’t want to worry them.

Children don’t tell their parents what’s going on because they don’t want to worry them.

I’m not a therapist. So, studying our dysfunctions isn’t that interesting to me. But, in my family, like so many others, not knowing and being in denial can become a crisis. And we’re wired, I’m afraid, to avoid the difficult and truthful conversations about both elder decline and whether or not caregivers are able to manage their burdens.

It was like this when Dad could no longer be cared for at home. When the inflection point came, I had to re-route myself to West Palm Beach. Luckily, I was already planning to head to Tampa, so at least my bag was packed. I’ll spare you the details, but HJ had tried to help Dad off the floor and hurt her back. Dad needed almost continuous care by then; and she could not bring him home from the hospital, where they treated him. In 24 hours, we went from “We’re doing fine; muddling through” to “We need to get Dad a bed in memory care.”

What’s crazy is that this happened in our family, and we’re excellent planners! So, imagine how it plays out in other families.

There are a few big reasons this happens over and over again—that families have caregiving crises rather than smoother care transitions.

• As I indicated above, parents don’t want their children to worry, so they withhold information.

• Those closest to the elder are in denial about health changes and deterioration. And that denial can be costly. Caregivers are in denial about the toll caregiving places on them and their own health–and life–considerations.

• And it is perfectly normal that the elder in question is fearful that acknowledging their deterioration will lead to a loss of independence.

All of this is real. And we all can benefit from putting together an elder care plan, which begins with a candid conversation about how the family will approach parents’ reduced capabilities as they age. And, if it’s going to be a successful conversation, it’s going to require lots of empathy and salesmanship because in order to get your parents to do something, it will have to become their idea.

As an adult child, perhaps it’s time to think about how your parents are influenced and by whom. In order to position the benefits of making a change, you will need to address their fear, not pretend it doesn’t exist.

And you’ll probably need to make it easy on your siblings and maybe some next-generation family members to support your plan. You don’t know what trauma or personal distraction they will bring to the conversation. So, it’s critical to position how a plan will benefit them as well.

I had a conversation last week with a peer who is at his wit’s end with his parents’ intransigence and failure to plan for their incapacitation, even as they decline. I suggested that, rather than argue, he tell his parents what he sees: that they have decided they will die where they are, uncomfortable and unprepared. After all, refusing to take action is, in fact, an action. If they still do nothing, he will have to let it go and await the crisis. But this makes the next step theirs: What are they willing to do to prepare for needing assistance?

Recently, I listened to a lecture from the head of a professional caregiving consultancy, someone who makes her living advising families on elder care plans. She said almost all families come to her already in crisis.

Does it really have to be like this?

There are few brilliant answers here. We are battling human nature. But it’s productive to socialize ideas, collect documents, and have a discussion of options BEFORE picking a family fight. Children are going to worry anyway. Parents are going to worry anyway. In not wanting to be a burden to your children, are you burdening them with uncertainty?

Try to understand the fear that is holding your parents in place. Whether it’s arranging for transportation or downsizing or asking to do the bills alongside them, don’t make them wrong. Just try to make it easier.

This is a big, scary, sad topic. The best I can offer it to approach it collaboratively, rather than adversarially. Then it becomes a life passage we can manage. Your financial advisor can facilitate much of the conversation; and he or she can refer you to an elder care planner to collaborate on a plan of action before you’re in crisis. Let’s not lie to ourselves: Decline is inevitable. Family crisis is not.

Copyright © Madrina Molly, LLC 2024. All rights reserved.

The information contained herein and shared by Madrina Molly™ constitutes financial education and not investment or financial advice.

Sherry Finkel Murphy, CFP®, RICP®, ChFC®, is the Founder and CEO of Madrina Molly, LLC. 

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