A sandwich seems so polite, casually sophisticated, something you savor between breakfast and dinner, a delicious bite between morning meetings and afternoon phone calls. But being an active member of the “sandwich generation” is no walk in the park. The terminology was originally tagged to define a group of people who simultaneously raise young children and care for their elderly parents. I am certain any one of them will tell you that being a member of this sandwich is no gingham tablecloth pesky ant picnic. Instead, it is a gut wrenching, heart breaking, daily dose of mind numbing distress. I cannot speak for the people who care for parents with Alzheimers or dementia, which I am sure has it’s own unique encumbrances, but I can tell you that trying to balance two teenagers, a single mom household and an ailing 89 year old is not just a handful, it is tearfully overwhelming.
Two and a half years ago my father passed on. He and my mother were married for 44 blissful years. They cared for each other unlike any two people I’ve seen in my life. So when he died the void in her life was enormous. It was hard on my mom. And even harder for me. There was no way anyone could fill his enormously capable shoes. Even the simplest of things seemed insurmountable without my dad. Normal household activities like filling the pool with water, changing a light bulb and even turning on the alarm system became huge “jobs”. My mom couldn’t do any of them without him and I was inevitably unable to do any of them “RIGHT”. As time passed she got used to doing certain things on her own, she has a night time companion so she doesn’t have to be in the house by herself in the scary wee hours of the AM and her other widowed lady friends are a brilliant source of support.
Recently my mother’s health has faltered. A horrendous case of shingles has left, my normally non-stop mom bed ridden, frustrated and unable to do virtually anything on her own. It is devastating for her and for me. I grew up believing my parents were invincible and my mom was ALWAYS my rock. The 5′7″ powerhouse is now a tiny wisp of a woman, six inches shorter due to severe osteoporosis and 107 lbs soaking wet. It breaks my heart to see her frailty, skin and bones, sunken eyes, and her once beautiful blonde tresses matted from five weeks spent in bed. I can only cry to myself. I want to be brave for her and my two daughters.
My days flow in odd rhythms, not as I ever expected in my life. Drop off my daughter at school by 7:15, run to my moms, hours at doctor appointments that give no clear answers only more malaise and little hope. Then its a rush to the gas station, the bank, the grocery and one deep breathe before school is out and an afternoon of homework, athletic activities, dinner and bed. Only to start again the following day.
Where is that moment of salvation and peace. For me it exists in the one hour of fitness I allow myself every morning. The only solo time to think, to really feel my lungs breathing, my heart pumping and the blood coursing through my veins feeding my limbs with that much needed oxygen. It is not an effort it is a sane induced necessity. Tomorrow I will interval train. Short bursts of supercharged running, as fast as I can, balanced with a cool five minute walk. It’s my nirvana.
And what of the Crusty Sandwich Generation. Tomorrow while I’m running I will come up with a new and better name for my people. The betwixt and between people who care for everyone else but themselves.
Hi. I enjoyed reading your article. I’m so your exercising is being such a good help.
As a fellow member of the Sandwich Generation, my heart goes out to you during this difficult season of life! I went through a similar time a few years ago when my dad’s Parkinson’s Disease started to spiral down. And yes, I did a lot of fast walking around the block then (and still now, sometimes
) to help de-stress 
It was a tough few years, but there were a lot of blessings mixed in with it.
I pray you will have that as well. I’m still in the throes of it with a senior mom and helping a ton with grandkids, but it’s easier right now and I hope your load will ease up a bit soon, as well.