Cami Summers

When I brought my babies home from the hospital, I knew they required a dying to self. I knew late-night feedings, dirty diapers, and temper tantrums were a part of it, but at least they were cute and when things got out of hand, you could put them in their crib for a nap.

Old people aren’t sweet little bundles of potential. And the truth is that nothing really prepares you for your parents needing you. One day, they are living the good life of retirement doing the things they love, and the next, they aren’t going to the doctor, taking care of their house, or even eating regular meals. 

You aren’t sure when things changed, and neither are they. Old age just creeps in and slowly erodes the adult life of our parents. And so we were caught unprepared. It’s not that we didn’t want to help, it’s just that middle-aged life with kids and teens was super busy. We always meant to visit more, to help clean out the barn, to do what needed to be done; but we never quite got around to it. We were too busy. (Cue “Cat’s in the Cradle”)

God got our attention, and a job search with a severance afforded us the gift of time. When we moved in with Gigi and Pop, our life slowed down to a snail’s pace. Like living with small children, there was lots of sleeping and eating. We would sit on the front porch and listen to stories of their lives beginning in World War 2, living in 3 states, and countless stories of God’s goodness. We would go shopping and make meals. We would take them to the doctor, to Bible Study, and to run errands; but for the most part, life was just simple. 

Caring for Gigi and Pop reminded me so much of caring for my littles. They were both so happy to have help, except when sometimes they wanted independence, to not be told what to do because they were grown adults. And they were, and I think that’s the biggest difference between babies and old people. 

With babies, you see them grow, gain independence, and learn new things. With old people you see them lose, forget, and often in the face of losing they fight desperately to keep their independence. 

While having babies is physically exhausting, young children are so full of hope. Even the thought of my little ones taking their first steps makes me smile.  While caring for them was not always a joy, it was gratifying. On my best days, I felt like I was investing in something important—that one day this child would be someone. 

Old people are both physically exhausting and emotionally exhausting. Caring for Gigi and Pop was so much harder. It was a similar sacrifice, but watching those you love die is hard. There’s no future to hope for.

I grieved the loss of their independence too, and it wasn’t just that I was inconvenienced by their losses, but more than that, these were the people I depended on to know more than me. It was heartbreaking to see their decline, and it also was so unsettling. What was my part? When do I step in and take control, and when do I sit by and let them struggle? So many questions, with no clear answers.

Living with Gigi and Pop taught me so much about surrender. I had to trust that God would direct us to the best answer for today—which might be a different answer than the best answer yesterday or  even tomorrow. And I have learned that I can’t control the outcome, but I can find peace in the process.