My family and I recently vacationed in Black Mountain with my father, my sister and her husband. Dad is an 83 year old World War II veteran and, though he's on a blood thinner and is no Jack LaLane, he's in pretty good health.
He has the ubiquitous hearing difficulties, and his eyesight isn't what it used to be, but he lives independently, volunteers regularly at a nearby hospital, is careful with his diet, walks a mile every day and, during our trip, was able to accompany us on many of our hikes, including a nearly three-mile trail off the Blue Ridge Parkway. He's quite healthy.
He's also quite intractable about many things, including accepting help. On several occasions during our vacation, typically on our hikes, he would refuse help and insist he was fine on his own. And he was, though on our three-miler he set for himself a quite unhurried pace. Yet my sister, who was worried about him and becoming increasingly concerned about his taking a fall, insisted on trying to steady him, to their mutually escalating frustration. I think her slightly patronizing tone — borne out of her frustration – didn't help. So playing on his innate desire not to be burden on anyone, ever, she finally told him that if he fell and injured himself, he would be a big inconvenience to her and the rest of us.
Now, bear in mind she was sincerely concerned about him. But, bless her heart, I just don't think manipulating someone by taking them along on a little guilt trip is a constructive way of gaining compliance. Dad is stubborn, but he is also very rational, and I think the best tool would have been an appeal to reason. Point out the unevenness of the terrain, the increasing fatigue and the delay in getting help if he did fall and injure himself. I'm confident he would have agreed with an objective assessment of the situation and accepted the help.
My sister and I both were reared to be honest. I know my sister loves and cares for my father. I know she meant well. But I can't condone her approach, and can't escape the feeling that here familiarity breeds not contempt, but a kind of familial thoughtlessness we wouldn't have with others.
How vital it is then to highlight for our children a broad definition of honesty, as well as the importance of that honesty — and respect and patience — in our relations with everyone. Parents included.
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