Chapter 1
It was an early fall morning in the Swiss Alps, and we found ourselves stranded in traffic at the entrance to Gotthard Pass. Uninfluenced by the breathtaking beauty of my surroundings, my mind attempted to navigate the uncertain path that lay ahead as my hands clutched the steering wheel. Just a few hours before, we had settled into our hotel at the serene Lake Lucerne for a vacation that had been in planning for more than a year. But life had other plans as always.
A phone call from my nephew had dropped a weight of a million thoughts on my heart. My father had passed away after a brief illness. He was ninety-four; despite his age and illness, the news came as a sudden blow because he wasn’t seriously ill. Tragically, more regretful in that moment was the realization that during the last few hours of his life, he couldn’t be with his only son. The sense of inadequacy was palpable. Was he even thinking about me? What must have been his last thoughts? As an immigrant living 6,000 miles away, I had sadly envisioned numerous versions of this moment in the post-COVID-19 world. Yet, this wasn’t one of them.
Now, stuck in traffic, with a tearless face, I sat under the umbrella of sadness, guilt, and inadequacy. The next forty-eight hours were a series of essential human interactions with the external world, involving flight cancellations, rebookings, airport transfers — trying my best to stop the inner turmoil from spilling over into the public.
During these hours of abundant sorrow and lack of personal space, I unwillingly accepted the sad reality — not only was I going to miss my dad’s last rights, which should happen within twenty-four hours of death, as per Hindu tradition, but also, I wasn’t going to be next to my mother and sisters to navigate the aftermath of immediate grief. In one the most personal moments, I was grieving intensely and silently in the public places on trains, flights, waiting areas, and cabs. In my mind, the music has finally stopped playing and the proverbial chickens of my immigrant past have finally come home to roost.
Deep down, I had always braced for this moment, but when it happened, I realized how unprepared I was. Years of unresolved emotions and feelings of inadequacy confronted me alongside the grief.
I knew I wasn’t the first or only one to bare the weight of this moment; millions of families separated by distance share the same moral quandary.
In the immediate aftermath, my mind span endlessly in a loop. Should I have done anything differently? What am I going to do next? How am I to take care of my widowed mother, who is almost ninety years old? How do other people handle this?
In my heart, I knew my questions were universal, but there wasn’t anyone I could reach out to who had answers. You know, I left India almost three decades ago but never ceased existing in two worlds at the same time. I was trying to solve an impossible metaphysical problem, to enjoy my life as an immigrant in Chicago and also be the best son there can be. Cultural upbringing, sibling pressure, and self-imposed guilt all went into my hodgepodge of confusion. With passing years, I had difficulty coming to terms with the fact that during the most crucial moments of my parents’ lives, strangers and acquaintances had been closer to them than I was. I felt powerless, anxious, and oscillated between guilt-ridden self-blame and helpless blaming others. Many times, I turned to the internet and friends,
3
only to stumble upon more unanswered questions, more collective exasperation, and anxiety. I always wished for a book that would help the millions navigating the rough waters of parental care from a long distance.
This book is my offering to all who are walking similar paths and seeking similar answers. In a minute, I will get to what this book offers and who will benefit from it, but I first want to tell you a bit more about me, before we start this journey together.
I was born in the City of Pursuit, commonly known as Mumbai, in the early seventies. Technically a millennial, I grew up in an age well before YouTube and the internet, and I always desired seeing new places and traveling far and beyond. Growing up, The Seven Voyages of Sindbad was my favorite fairy tale book. I dreamt of crossing the seven oceans and seeing what was out there. I still do. Over the past four decades, I followed my dreams and explored four continents, lived in different cultures, and enriched my life.
During the early years of the journey, sometimes my parents made the long trip and visited me in the Europe and the US, when their health permitted them to travel. We traveled together. I still hold dearly the memories of our travel together. I find great solace in the fact that we saw so much together. We sailed the breathtaking fjords, watching the Scandinavian homes dotting the shore, boated under the thundering Niagara Falls wearing the raincoats of the Maid of the Mist. We walked amid the towering redwoods of Yosemite, observing the spiritual beauty of thousand-year-old oaks, and boated along the banks of the Seine and Yamuna, absorbing the majestic beauty of the Eifel Tower and the Taj Mahal. But my parents got old, and all good things have to come to an end.
My mom didn’t mind much, being the loving Indian mom she was, but my dad always wanted to go back to India. I knew they both felt lonely without their regular social support. With their aging and minimal health insurance, it wasn’t a great idea for them to stay in the United States for long. They visited every five years, but when my dad reached his eighties, he drew the line and said he couldn’t travel anymore. In that moment, I realized the last and most critical phase of our relationship had begun.
Why am I writing this book?
As our bi-hemispheric life took a new turn, I visited India more often. With every passing visit, I felt our time together grow more precious, and the flights back to Chicago got longer and filled with self-examination and helplessness over what could happen between visits. Slowly, I made my amends with the honest realization of what I wanted to do and what I actually could do. As I navigated these years filled with ups and downs, many a times I wished I had something to compare my experiences with, a what-to-expect book like they have for new parents.
During the process of writing this book, I conducted an online survey, and my doubt was converted into certainty. My feelings were echoed by most of the respondents. Almost everyone surveyed was starving for such a guidebook. Most respondents were not prepared and had no plan, and nearly everyone was anxious and worried about how to deal with these years.
In a world where we demand more and more personal space and our communications are getting more sparce, this subject demands more space than a tweet, blog, or Facebook group. It needs all of the above and more.
I don’t claim to have all the solutions, but this book is a placeholder to start a conversation, where people can come out, share their stories and experiences, and help each other.
This is not a memoir. This is a story told by me, but it isn’t about me or my family. It will teach you how to start the conversations with you internally as well as with your parents. It will provide you insights, surveyresults, case studies, templates, and action items. It will help you plan your caregiving journey.
This book will help you create meaningful dialogue with your family member — a parent, sibling, or caregiver — without being passive aggressive or accusatory.
The idea is that if you plan this journey, you will be better prepared to absorb the shocks of tomorrow, and you can make the process more enjoyable.
Who is this book for?
Readers of this book are modern, contemporary men and women. They are parents, loving partners, and anxious sons and daughters concerned about their aging parents.
They live far from their birth town, often in a different country, willingly and unwillingly. The will to be with their aging parents is often overwhelmed by their inability to. They face their own health, familial, financial, or even immigration challenges.
They play multiple roles at the same time. They are a parent, an employer, an employee, a spouse, or all three. This book is about how to handle the role of caregiving in this multi-dimensional environment. You don’t have to give up one role to adopt another.
Although this book is written primarily for the benefit of a long- distance caregiver, readers may notice they’ve been unknowingly playing the role of a supporting caregiver in various capacities, e.g., a supportive neighbor, a considerate colleague, a compassionate airline employee.
You don’t have to be an active caregiver to make a difference, because we are all interconnected. Knowingly and unknowingly, we are all
going to play multiple roles at some time in our life. This book will serve as a handbook to do that effectively.
