My dad was six foot seven. As he grew older, back pain became more and more of an issue, especially when he walked very far. His balance also began to deteriorate, increasing the possibility he would fall. But the man loved to shop and went to Walmart or the grocery store every week with my mom.
In hopes of reducing his walking to and from his car, I encouraged Dad to get a handicap tag.
“I don’t need one of those,” he said. “They’re for disabled people.”
“They’re for anyone with mobility issues, Dad.”
He still resisted, so one day while I was in town, I stopped by the county administration building and picked up a Disabled Parking Application from the tax collector’s office. (In the US, they can also be obtained from the website for each state’s Department of Motor Vehicles.) The form requires that a doctor or nurse practitioner verify the applicant meets certain health criteria that limit mobility.*
“Why don’t we just apply for one?” I said the next time he visited his doctor. “You don’t have to use it if you don’t want to.”
Dad finally agreed, and we got a hang tag for his mirror. Before long, he began using not only the tag but the motorized carts provided by stores. In addition to lessening Dad’s back pain, the tag had a secondary benefit in reducing my fears of Dad falling. He saw the advantages, too. Though he never admitted it, my mother told me that every time they pulled into a handicapped spot, Dad said, “Thank you, Tracy! Thank you, Tracy!”
While we want to honor our parents and respect their wishes, sometimes a little push is needed to ensure they remain safe and receive the best care.
*Click here for an example of the Disabled Parking Application medical requirements.
Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others.
Philippians 2:4 ESV
Tracy Crump dispenses hope in her award-winning book, Health, Healing, and Wholeness: Devotions of Hope in the Midst of Illness (CrossLink Publishing, 2021). A former intensive care nurse, she cared for her parents and her mother-in-law and understands both the burdens and joys of caregiving. Her devotions have been featured in Guideposts books, The Upper Room, and many other publications, and she has contributed 22 stories to Chicken Soup for the Soul® books. She also conducts writing workshops, freelance edits, and proofreads for Farmers’ Almanac. But her most important job is Grandma to five completely unspoiled grandchildren.
Thank you for an example in how to give a little push when needed.
You’re welcome, Diana!
Thank you, Tracy, for the comparison of how a mother has to adjust her time when her children are little and how a caregiver can view her time the same way. This gives the caregiver a realistic picture of how she can function when almost all of her time is devoted to caregiving.
Blessings,
Janis
I’m just now seeing this, Janis. Thank you for your comment!
We went through this with my husband’s mother. She insisted her hearing aids were fine and we just needed to speak up. But we were shouting and she still couldn’t hear. She grew up in the Depression era, when people made do and didn’t spend money unless they absolutely had to. We gently insisted on taking her to the audiologist. When she got her new hearing aids, she was pleased. It can be a hard balance sometimes. We don’t want to run roughshod over their autonomy, but, like you said, sometimes a gentle nudge is needed.
I’m sorry I just saw your comment, Barbara. I totally understand. Both my parents were born during the depression era. Sometimes it was hard to convince them that their health and well-being were more important than money. Of course, with their Scots blood running through my veins, I sometimes have to remind myself that, too!