When Lying is a Kindness

Have you ever had to lie to a loved one in your care?

When we are caring for someone who cannot fully care for themselves, we are placed in the position of making decisions. Decisions for our loved one. Decisions for the circumstances. Decisions for ourselves.

Fully 73% of us admit to committing what is termed “therapeutic lying”. That is, we accept or fabricate stories in order to manage the person we care for and in doing so, also reduce some of the stress of caring for that person. By nodding and agreeing to the fiction that a long dead relative called and spoke to them last night, the person is emotionally protected. As a caregiver, we no longer have the right to being right, so don’t argue. For as long as we care for this person, their reality is ours, no matter how it conflicts with what you believe real. Just go with it.

We can handle the feeding and care for our loved one but especially when the loved one is a parent, lying does not usually come easy. This person for whom we are caring for was most likely the one who helped shape our moral character from an early age. If you grew up during the 1970’s or earlier, there was not the sliding ethical scale of entitlement that we have today. We were responsible for our decisions and consequences for poor decisions were a given. So now after all of these years of building upon and refining these moral traits, we are expected to violate these rules.

And violate them you will because it is the best thing you can do to help.

You are not being dishonest, either. We bring integrity to our intent because we are responsible for providing protection from and control over what, in the eyes of our family member, is a threatening and chaotic world. Lying to them, whether by fabricating stories or by omission, serves your loved one by minimizing the disruption to their lives. Life becomes a series of fun adventures shared with their caregiver instead of a shopping list of doctor’s appointments, legal obligations, requisite stops that would otherwise confuse their world.

Keep it simple.

Keep it fun.

Most of all, be kind to yourself.

At this stage, we are doing so many things we never expected we would ever have to do. Stay open to tender moments that will happen along the way. Yes, they do happen and you will cherish each and every one.

Taking care of a debilitated and/or demented parent was never on that list of things you were going to be doing at this age but they are still your parent. It’s sort of like the crazy family members that are driving you nuts as you are trying to care for your parent. Just learn to work with what you have and find the good in each day. Trust me, it is there.

(More on crazy family members later.)

Peace