Losing Control

There, I’ve said it: The best caregivers are often control freaks.
They do not proceed with sinister intent. They are good people with the best of intentions, with the heart and mind and patience to look after a gimp like me or their agin parents or relatives.
Two digressions before I continue.
First, I was labeled "uncontrollable" as a teenager. I never lost the label as an adult, because it was always true. I can be worked with, guided and even directed, but not controlled. Employers and bosses who wanted jobs done were always happy with me. Those who wanted hoops jumped through soon became frustrated, and more often than not, former employers sooner rather than later. I was always brazen enough to meet the statement "If I tell you to jump, you’re to ask ‘How high’?" with open contempt. I am not an extension of other people and do not exist to boost the egos of others. That has not changed since I went gimp. Nor is it likely to change.
The second reminder for this subject holds true in my case and most others, whether the person needing help is going gimp or just getting old and feeble. People like us are psychologically dealing with losses of control over ourselves and our lives. I looked at giving up driving as a responsibility to the communities through which I would be endangering. I just have a certain mix of competency and confidence And genuine humility. My convenience and self control is not worth the danger I would pose to others. I wish more elderly people would have this reason and just stop driving before they kill someone. Yet I understand why they don’t, often until they total their car or their kids take the keys away. Loss of independence to go where you want when you want is an enormous loss of self control. It is not always the beginning of the end, but is usually the turning point from which there is no recovery. Getting a driver’s licence and car is a milestone for most people, and losing that privilege is akin to picking out your gravestone.
All on our own, we see, even blind, out self control and independence dwindle.
We feel grateful for those who are willing to help us and do for us.
We understand that we are a burden to those who help us the most, and even at our most cantankerous, we truly appreciate the efforts.
Watch that sandwich generation person in the grocery and department store as he shops with both children and a frail parent. Often the sharp barked orders to the parent are as commanding to the elderly parents as to the grade schooler. The caregiver is happy to help, but the daily demands and obligations take over. Getting shoes for the kids and prune juice for the parents become equal things on the to do list, often with similar annoyances: the kid doesn’t like the trim color on the shoes and the parents thinks that bottle of prune juice is too heavy or hard to grasp.
"Normal" or mediocre caregivers get frustrated by this. Usually they make the shopping trips less often or reduce the help they give. I do find that understandable.
The best caregivers seize the reins and take over the situation. This is less pronounced with children. With adults who are already losing control of aspects of their lives, the cycle can soon escalate.
The size and shape of that prune juice bottle really doesn’t matter. But the representation that even such an insignificant decision is out of our hands becomes a small point of stress in a growing porcupine that we sleep with each night.
Conflict between the caregiver and the receiver becomes inevitable....