Why do many of us adult children feel (mostly) negative about caring for elderly parents?

Is that just the dumbest question? Is it (presumably) so painfully obvious?  Or is there more to it?  (And, if you don't have negative reaction to caring for your elderly parent, then I truly congratulate you.)

Is it fair, is it equivalent, to compare our parents' care for us when we were children with our caring for them as elderly parents?  Is it the same?  Are we merely 'giving back', tit for tat?

In the sense of familial duty, yes of course it is comparable.  They gave us life.  We owe them respect, dignity, honor.  Absolutely.  It is the right thing to do.

At the same time, we may have feelings about performing that duty that feel ... uncomfortable. I've talked about those feelings (resentful, impatient, frustrated). We are not proud of feeling this way, but it does REALLY feel quite different, my caring for my mother versus raising my daughter.

Why?

My sister's friend shared the essence of a newspaper article on the subject of caring for aging parents.  The article said the difference between caring for elderly parents versus children is that no matter how well we take care of elderly parents, they keep getting worse, unlike with children who grow up and become independent.

Maybe. Maybe that's part of it, anyway.  But I really think there's more to it.

Children bring hope, laughter, and the future.  Children allow us to dream. They touch a part of us that remembers our own youthful days.  They are innocent, clean slates. They are forever.

Parents... they bring (to most of us anyway) baggage of past failures - theirs, ours. When we walked away from home some years ago, we set aside unresolved issues - until now.  And now they are sick, needy.  Confused. They have awful smells and physical needs - needs that will only grow. They are confused and irritating when their own frustration or demands or moodiness hit us in the face when we are least prepared for it.

Children are fresh, new and hope-full.  Aged parents are damaged, pained, and used-up. 

Plus, the demands of an aging parent coincide with a time in our own adult lives when we are trying to finish some of our own accomplishments, help our own adult children, strengthen our own marriages, meet our own various needs in the last phase of our career before we retire. We're tired.

Further, as we look at elderly needy sick parents, we see ourselves in just a short 25-30 years to come. Who will bring us flowers, toilet paper, wine, toothpaste, Advil?  Who will hold our hands at the doctor's office?  Who will care if we live 'well' - or, if we live at all?  Can we afford our future? Will anyone even notice our existence?  Seeing our parents can be frightening, terribly uncomfortable.

As I'd mentioned before (and as others have secretly echoed) we adult children have horrible thoughts that we know they will die soon and that we actually hope for it to be sooner rather than later.  And the guilt and shame of that reality is just awful.

Honestly, my mother feels the same way, and says she is ready to die.  Waiting to die.  Maybe even yearning for death.  I'm aware of no particular purpose she serves except to boost Dr Phil's ratings by one viewer a day. She and I have nothing new to say to each other. There is no meaning to life that she is somehow holding back from sharing with us. She's marking time, waiting.

Of course, there are some nice moments we enjoy together, and I really work toward supporting her in a positive joyful way. But overall, there is the waiting, and secretly hoping, for the end. But still, it sounds like an awful thing to say, that I am looking forward to ending this.

So, there are some superficial comparisons that can be made between aging parents and young children.  But the real differences are complex and layered and uncomfortable and so very sad.
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