by Marianna Lamare

Created on: September 09, 2008   Last Updated: November 01, 2008

When my mother was growing up in Minneapolis, she lived with her mother, her aunt, and her grandmother in a two story Victorian house in an Italian neighborhood. She and her three siblings learned how to garden, play piano, and speak Italian from grandmother Rose. Extended family was the norm; no one thought anything of grandparents living alongside growing children and children living at home while attending college. In many cultures, even today, this is still the way families are.

As I sort through the maze of expectations, needs, and reality of our society, I wonder, now as I am in the midst of my 50s and have a twenty-three-year-old son living at home while attending college and a mother with dementia, how to navigate my way through these years with so much pulling at both ends. I think back to my college-years and beyond to the times when I needed to go home to reconfigure my life. Families are not what they once were; we are all spread out across fifty states. How do we take care of our growing up children, our growing old parents, and our, well, let's just say, growing selves?

My induction into the not-so-empty nest hall of fame is in full swing. Our twenty- year old son moved out while attending San Jose State nearby. I must admit although I missed him, pausing at his empty room and remembering all those precious years at home, there was a delightful feeling of freedom I had not quite expected but welcomed nonetheless. This was how I imagined it would be, the bulk of our responsibilities in raising him finally transforming into blissful retirement in the years ahead.

That is, until he moved back.

Not only did my son have to move back due to the high price of rent in the area, but also, at the same time, my mother's health began to plummet. My father died seven years ago and she has been in steady decline ever since. The problem is that my mother lives in South Dakota, over a thousand miles away. Mother is in a nursing home due to severe dementia and while my brothers who live in the same city do their best in terms of managing her care, I am filled with sadness and guilt that I cannot be there for her. I used to be able to fly out several times a year and now, I am lucky to make it twice a year. My siblings and I (there are ten of us!) conference over email and by phone about mother's care.
Everyone has their opinion about what is best for mom and, though being well intentioned, often those opinions clash. I try to stay out of the fray, just sending my

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