I just returned from a seven day meditation retreat. It was an experience that I whole heartedly encourage everyone to undertake. During my time, sitting in meditation and walking in meditation (and eating in meditation) I considered my Grandparents. I went to visit them in early April in Alabama. They are both in their eighties and doing fairly well, but the signs of some troubles were clear. They were a little to isolated, had a little too much pain and need just a little bit more help then they had. With some attention on a semi regular basis their quality of life would be greatly improved. However, they live in Alabama, their children live in Minnesota and Oklahoma (and I live in California). The questions about what to do in this situation are hard. It’s not clear what path to take, how to best help and what to do. It’s especially difficult on the children, who may have old wounds or painful patterns they find themselves repeating when they are around their parents. This kind of pain often clouds the children’s judgment when deciding what path to take. I don’t have any answers or sage advice, but I do want to acknowledge this issue and am writing this post as a way to invite a dialouge from the readers and as a reminder to myself to really consider what I can do. As well, I offer this comment from the Dali Lama on the subject (thanks to Integral options Cafe)

…This samsaric body keeps us running all of our lives. We have to run to fulfill its endless needs, to keep it away from things that may harm it, and to protect it from anything unpleasant. We have to give it pleasure and comfort. We become ordained, and at first this is very satisfactory; but soon our body makes it so difficult for us that we think our practice would be less disturbed if we were to live as a layperson. So we give up and return to ordinary life; but then we end up with a family to support, leaving us with no time or energy for meditation. We have the pressing tasks of feeding, clothing, and sheltering our children, and of arranging their education and so forth. Our lives are spent alternating between work and worry, with occasional short periods of pleasure, and then we have to die; but even this we cannot do in peace, for, when we lie down to die, our last thoughts are worried ones concerning the family we are leaving behind. Such is the nature of worldly existence

….To care for our old people–these ones who have given us our body, our life, and our culture–is a sacred duty of humanity. But most humans act more like animals than people, and often we see old people who have been abandoned by their families. Family units were very strong in Tibet, and old people were usually cared for directly by relatives. The national care for the old that we see in the West is something very good, a healthy sign, although perhaps here the spiritual and psychological basis is somewhat lacking.

…The suffering of old age is something we all must face, unless we die prematurely. There is nothing we can do about it. Gone will be that false sense of personal ability and strength that made us so proud when we were young. Instead, helpers or friends will bathe us, dress us, spoonfeed us, and have to take us to the toilet. Rather than live under the delusion of permanence, we should engage in spiritual training so that we can enter old age at least with the grace of wisdom.

~ From The Path to Enlightenment by H.H. the Dalai Lama, edited and translated by Glenn H. Mullin, published by Snow Lion Publications