Living the expat life when your parents, at home, need you can take its toll.
ON.WSJ.COM|由 JENNIFER LANG 上傳
By JENNIFER LANGJun 29, 2016 6:53 am ET
When my family and I moved from White Plains, New York to Raanana, Israel in 2011, my then 74-year-old father had recently been diagnosed with dementia. It was a toss-up as to what weighed more—my mind or my heart. How often would I be able to hop on a plane and fly more than 7,000 miles to San Francisco when I was still raising children?
When, two years later, the diagnosis changed to early Alzheimer’s, I flew back to make sure paperwork and finances were in order and visit memory care facilities—just in case, for later. Eighteen months passed. He lost all short-term memory. I returned home to propose to my mother, one year younger but in good health and now the sole decision-maker for both of them, to move to Israel so my brother, also living here, and I could help in the years to come.
This past fall, during their most recent trip to Israel, the four of us sat around my backyard table with a Chicago-based social worker who runs a U.S. and Israel-based business called Elder Options. We hired them to help facilitate the conversation: where my parents should live and how we can help from afar. The company offered to provide anything from a la carte to full service, depending on our needs.
My brother and I have agreed to coordinate and stagger our visits; we have met and have the contact information for the caregivers; we email and call regularly. Other than that, little is in our control.
Our experience made me wonder how other expats deal with elderly parents while overseas.
Sue Flamm moved from Armonk, N.Y., to Valencia, Spain almost seven years ago. Both her parents suffer from different types of dementia: her mother, 87, with early Alzheimer’s, and her father, 92, with Lewy Body Dementia. A yoga instructor, Ms. Flamm reserves December and July to visit them. When apart, she uses Skype or FaceTime to connect with them daily between 9 p.m. and 10 p.m. her time, which is 3 p.m. and 4 p.m. theirs. She takes screen shots and keeps them on her computer so she can look at them often.
Sometimes she only speaks with one of them, other times, both; conversations are short, but even a few minutes make a difference. She might play games with her mother or ask her daughter to practice piano and sing while her parents listen. Ms. Flamm and her brother, who lives 75 minutes away in Connecticut, got them Medicaid and hired aides, who she checks in with daily, to honor their wish and keep them home.
For only child Christine Cantera, living the expat life takes its toll. Now 45, Ms. Cantera has been living abroad for 14 years. Originally from Ocean City, N.J. and now in Europe—alternating between Montpellier, France and Rome, Italy—she only sees her parents, both 72, every two to three years.
Before she left, she made sure they each wrote their wills and living wills, and all legal paperwork, knowing some issues would be impossible to decide or discuss in an emergency from thousands of miles away. She said by email: “I insist on honesty, that they tell me if and when to come home for any reason, including the deaths of my grandparents or other relatives. I can be there within 24 hours.” Ms. Cantera checks in separately with her mother, who has chronic health problems, and then her father.
Forty-six-year-old Pamela Strong, also an only child, works in international development for an American NGO in Cairo, halfway across the world from her parents in Auburn, Washington. Her father, 71, and mother, 83, have had decades to adjust. Since serving in the Peace Corps in 1992, Ms. Strong has moved around: Uzbekistan, U.S., Armenia, U.S., Indonesia, Guatemala, Egypt. Like Ms. Flamm, they get on Skype regularly, which means a lot to her parents because as they age, they’re growing more isolated, getting out less.
She has also researched caregivers for the time when, eventually, her father will need help caring for her mother, who is less well, since he makes their meals, helps her get exercise, gets her in and out of bed, administers her medications, and drives everywhere, including to doctor appointments. Ms. Strong looks for opportunities to combine work travel with getting home to reduce costs. Now that she’s more established cost is less an issue than negotiating time off work. She sees her parents once or twice a year.
Cheryl Schwarz, 55, left Cape Town, South Africa 28 years ago and now lives in Piedmont, California with her husband and three children. She only sees her parents, both turning 87 this year, once annually. Even though she has siblings, they, too, live abroad—an older sister in Los Angeles and younger brother in Israel. Every time she calls her parents, which is often, they’re happy to know she’s thinking of them.
In an email, Ms. Schwarz wrote: “My siblings and I spread out our visits to give them more time with each of us; I usually go without my husband and kids to focus on and spend quality time with them. The three of us tried to convince them to move closer to one of us but finally understood they’re content where they are with their friends and community.” The result was that the family decided that “we need to respect their wishes and try not to worry too much since there’s not much we can do to change the situation”.
As much as my mother appreciated my offer to move closer to my brother and me, they opted to stay stateside. Like Ms. Schwarz, I understand they’re where they want to be, the only place they’ve ever known. When, almost 30 years ago, I first uprooted in my early twenties to work in Paris, my parents supported me unconditionally just as I need to support their decision to stay put—at home—now.
In this letter, Epicurus summarizes his ethical doctrines:
Epicurus to Menoeceus, greetings:
Let no one be slow to seek wisdom when he is young nor weary in the search of it when he has grown old. For no age is too early or too late for the health of the soul. And to say that the season for studying philosophy has not yet come, or that it is past and gone, is like saying that the season for happiness is not yet or that it is now no more. Therefore, both old and young alike ought to seek wisdom, the former in order that, as age comes over him, he may be young in good things because of the grace of what has been, and the latter in order that, while he is young, he may at the same time be old, because he has no fear of the things which are to come. So we must exercise ourselves in the things which bring happiness, since, if that be present, we have everything, and, if that be absent, all our actions are directed towards attaining it.
Those things which without ceasing I have declared unto you, do them, and exercise yourself in them, holding them to be the elements of right life. First believe that God is a living being immortal and blessed, according to the notion of a god indicated by the common sense of mankind; and so believing, you shall not affirm of him anything that is foreign to his immortality or that is repugnant to his blessedness. Believe about him whatever may uphold both his blessedness and his immortality. For there are gods, and the knowledge of them is manifest; but they are not such as the multitude believe, seeing that men do not steadfastly maintain the notions they form respecting them. Not the man who denies the gods worshipped by the multitude, but he who affirms of the gods what the multitude believes about them is truly impious. For the utterances of the multitude about the gods are not true preconceptions but false assumptions; hence it is that the greatest evils happen to the wicked and the greatest blessings happen to the good from the hand of the gods, seeing that they are always favorable to their own good qualities and take pleasure in men like themselves, but reject as alien whatever is not of their kind.
Accustom yourself to believing that death is nothing to us, for good and evil imply the capacity for sensation, and death is the privation of all sentience; therefore a correct understanding that death is nothing to us makes the mortality of life enjoyable, not by adding to life a limitless time, but by taking away the yearning after immortality. For life has no terrors for him who has thoroughly understood that there are no terrors for him in ceasing to live. Foolish, therefore, is the man who says that he fears death, not because it will pain when it comes, but because it pains in the prospect. Whatever causes no annoyance when it is present, causes only a groundless pain in the expectation. Death, therefore, the most awful of evils, is nothing to us, seeing that, when we are, death is not come, and, when death is come, we are not. It is nothing, then, either to the living or to the dead, for with the living it is not and the dead exist no longer.
But in the world, at one time men shun death as the greatest of all evils, and at another time choose it as a respite from the evils in life. The wise man does not deprecate life nor does he fear the cessation of life. The thought of life is no offense to him, nor is the cessation of life regarded as an evil. And even as men choose of food not merely and simply the larger portion, but the more pleasant, so the wise seek to enjoy the time which is most pleasant and not merely that which is longest. And he who admonishes the young to live well and the old to make a good end speaks foolishly, not merely because of the desirability of life, but because the same exercise at once teaches to live well and to die well. Much worse is he who says that it were good not to be born, but when once one is born to pass quickly through the gates of Hades. For if he truly believes this, why does he not depart from life? It would be easy for him to do so once he were firmly convinced. If he speaks only in jest, his words are foolishness as those who hear him do not believe.
We must remember that the future is neither wholly ours nor wholly not ours, so that neither must we count upon it as quite certain to come nor despair of it as quite certain not to come.
We must also reflect that of desires some are natural, others are groundless; and that of the natural some are necessary as well as natural, and some natural only. And of the necessary desires some are necessary if we are to be happy, some if the body is to be rid of uneasiness, some if we are even to live. He who has a clear and certain understanding of these things will direct every preference and aversion toward securing health of body and tranquillity of mind, seeing that this is the sum and end of a blessed life. For the end of all our actions is to be free from pain and fear, and, when once we have attained all this, the tempest of the soul is laid; seeing that the living creature has no need to go in search of something that is lacking, nor to look for anything else by which the good of the soul and of the body will be fulfilled. When we are pained because of the absence of pleasure, then, and then only, do we feel the need of pleasure. Wherefore we call pleasure the alpha and omega of a blessed life. Pleasure is our first and kindred good. It is the starting-point of every choice and of every aversion, and to it we come back, inasmuch as we make feeling the rule by which to judge of every good thing.
And since pleasure is our first and native good, for that reason we do not choose every pleasure whatsoever, but will often pass over many pleasures when a greater annoyance ensues from them. And often we consider pains superior to pleasures when submission to the pains for a long time brings us as a consequence a greater pleasure. While therefore all pleasure because it is naturally akin to us is good, not all pleasure is should be chosen, just as all pain is an evil and yet not all pain is to be shunned. It is, however, by measuring one against another, and by looking at the conveniences and inconveniences, that all these matters must be judged. Sometimes we treat the good as an evil, and the evil, on the contrary, as a good.
Again, we regard independence of outward things as a great good, not so as in all cases to use little, but so as to be contented with little if we have not much, being honestly persuaded that they have the sweetest enjoyment of luxury who stand least in need of it, and that whatever is natural is easily procured and only the vain and worthless hard to win. Plain fare gives as much pleasure as a costly diet, when once the pain of want has been removed, while bread and water confer the highest possible pleasure when they are brought to hungry lips. To habituate one's self, therefore, to simple and inexpensive diet supplies all that is needful for health, and enables a man to meet the necessary requirements of life without shrinking, and it places us in a better condition when we approach at intervals a costly fare and renders us fearless of fortune.
When we say, then, that pleasure is the end and aim, we do not mean the pleasures of the prodigal or the pleasures of sensuality, as we are understood to do by some through ignorance, prejudice, or willful misrepresentation. By pleasure we mean the absence of pain in the body and of trouble in the soul. It is not an unbroken succession of drinking-bouts and of revelry, not sexual lust, not the enjoyment of the fish and other delicacies of a luxurious table, which produce a pleasant life; it is sober reasoning, searching out the grounds of every choice and avoidance, and banishing those beliefs through which the greatest tumults take possession of the soul. Of all this the beginning and the greatest good is wisdom. Therefore wisdom is a more precious thing even than philosophy ; from it spring all the other virtues, for it teaches that we cannot live pleasantly without living wisely, honorably, and justly; nor live wisely, honorably, and justly without living pleasantly. For the virtues have grown into one with a pleasant life, and a pleasant life is inseparable from them.
Who, then, is superior in your judgment to such a man? He holds a holy belief concerning the gods, and is altogether free from the fear of death. He has diligently considered the end fixed by nature, and understands how easily the limit of good things can be reached and attained, and how either the duration or the intensity of evils is but slight. Fate, which some introduce as sovereign over all things, he scorns, affirming rather that some things happen of necessity, others by chance, others through our own agency. For he sees that necessity destroys responsibility and that chance is inconstant; whereas our own actions are autonomous, and it is to them that praise and blame naturally attach. It were better, indeed, to accept the legends of the gods than to bow beneath that yoke of destiny which the natural philosophers have imposed. The one holds out some faint hope that we may escape if we honor the gods, while the necessity of the naturalists is deaf to all entreaties. Nor does he hold chance to be a god, as the world in general does, for in the acts of a god there is no disorder; nor to be a cause, though an uncertain one, for he believes that no good or evil is dispensed by chance to men so as to make life blessed, though it supplies the starting-point of great good and great evil. He believes that the misfortune of the wise is better than the prosperity of the fool. It is better, in short, that what is well judged in action should not owe its successful issue to the aid of chance.
Exercise yourself in these and related precepts day and night, both by yourself and with one who is like-minded; then never, either in waking or in dream, will you be disturbed, but will live as a god among men. For man loses all semblance of mortality by living in the midst of immortal
"Lucas is an old man. He dont look it, but he's sixty-seven years old. And when a man that old takes up money-hunting, it's like when he takes up gambling or whisky or women. He aint going to have time to quit." ―from GO DOWN, MOSES